#🥵 I’m tired after that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sim0nril3y · 4 months ago

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I have an ask for Simon and civi reader! What if he comes home from work one day and is just so sore and physically tired. Maybe he always picks reader up during a special hug or whateves. But tonight he doesn’t do it and thinks nothing of it. Then the following days he notices reader walking/ working out more and eating less? He finds out what is going on and proves to her even when he’s tired he will always be able to pick her up and just needs to prove her wrong 🥵

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was a great request, I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you so much for suggesting this! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), weight mentioned, anxiety, angst, diet talk, body talk, confidence issues, comfort, canon-typical swearing.

It was like some pavlovian response to hearing the door opening, you would sprint from wherever you were in your home to greet Simon at the door, jumping into his arms, having him hold you tight and then carry you to where he was originally heading, the kitchen, the lounge, the bedroom… it didn’t matter because he was home and you were in his strong arms, so safe, so secure.

It was the same each and every time. Like clockwork the front door would click open and off you ran, grinning whilst leaping into his arms. Simon would chuckle, holding you securely, asking you about your day, or complimenting you on some tiny little detail hadn't expected him to notice.

It was always the same, except today…

Today you heard the door click open and you rushed from downstairs to greet him at the door. Simon had been placing down his gym bag when you leapt into his arms. "Mn."

You heard it… a little grunt in the back of his throat as his arms tied around you and then… then your feet were in the floor again, his lips on your forehead and he stepped past you. “You hungry? I'll get started on tea.” Simon mentioned as he headed away on his own, arms empty and you left reeling in the hallway. What the hell just happened?

As you sat there eating dinner with Simon your mind was spirally. He’d grunted when you’d jumped into his arms. Had you put on weight? Maybe… but… Simon just seemed so strong almost nothing seemed to faze him… but maybe he was just pretending all those times and really you were too heavy for him to be carrying around… Oh god, maybe you needed to lose weight then? Maybe you’d start now…

You took a last bite of the amazing dinner that Simon had prepared for you and left half a plate of food on your plate. Simon glanced over at you with a quirk on his brow. “Don’t you like it?” He quizzed tapping his fork to your plate and then pushing it back in your direction.

“Uh, no. It’s really nice, but I had a bit of a big lunch.” Replying with a little shake of your head. You despised lying to him, mostly because you were bad at him, but Simon didn’t seem to fight you this time.

The next couple of days continued the same way, additionally you didn’t come greet him with that usual enthusiasm, you’d come to greet him at the door but you were more reserved, certainly not jumping into his arms. As the two of you sat eating dinner you stopped yourself at half the hearty portion he’d given you.

“Alright, what is going on?” Simon asked then as you pushed your plate aside again for the fourth day in a row. “I’m not accepting whatever excuse you’ve cooked up tonight about not eating dinner…”

“What?” You muttered with a little shake of your head. “I’m just not hungry-” “Bollocks.” Simon responded with a roughness to his voice. “It’s been four days… You’ve been waking up before the sun to go to the gym, thinking I haven’t been noticing… cutting back on your meals. You think I haven’t noticed but I have and I’m getting worried. So, you’re gonna tell me what is going on…” You pursed your lips. “Now.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, you suddenly blurted out your reasoning, it was a mess of words mixed with emotion that broken in your voice. “When you got home the other night I jumped into your arms and you grunted.” You informed him, rushed like you didn’t want to say these things along. “I don’t wanna get too heavy that I hurt you when I jump into your arms-”

“Hold on.” Simon held up his hand then. “I grunted when I picked you up?” He asked, thinking back… it really hadn’t been something that had registered his mind, but to think it had been torturing you so much that it had restricted your food intake haunted Simon. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I pulled a muscle in my side doing some training at base.” He explained looking at you then with honesty. “Babe, I can deadlift almost double your weight at the gym, I’m actuallya little insulted that you think I can’t carry you.”

With a huff then Simon rose up from his seat and rounded the table to take your arm and suddenly hoist you up over his shoulder with a practiced ease. “I don’t care if I have to bench press you to make you believe me, but I promise you that the problem was never with your perfect fuckin’ body.” Then he moved you to sit you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs and cupping your face as gazed lovingly into your eyes. “But I’m sorry if I ever made you think that there was something wrong with you… I love every bloody inch of you, regardless of everything you believe to be an imperfection.”

Leaning in Simon pressed a warm kiss to your lips, tugging back to lean his forehead against your own. “Now, you’re gonna sit your arse in that chair and finished your dinner than I’m carry you upstairs and have my dessert.”

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2025

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #simon riley x y/n #ghost mw3 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine

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bed-chemist · 7 months ago

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ommmmg can u write something with nicolas being a new dad x reader wife 🙏🙏🙏 maybe them visiting his family during a short trip and him being sooooooo daddyyyy 😭😭 after seeing him in those GH pic with this baby …. 🥵😮‍💨 i just need a dad imagines with him since there isn’t any

❝Juno❞

─⋆♡ summary: You’re married to Nicholas Chavez and you bring your newborn baby to meet his grandparents.

─⋆♡ warnings: pregnancy, postpartum depression, fluff, allusions to sex but no smut, Daddy!Nicholas Chavez, Y/N used a few times, 1st person POV. as always i’m always learning so correct me if i missed something!!

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask & shoutout to that person because this was super sweet to write. there’s no public info on his parents and i felt weird looking for it so here’s some Chavez grandparents content. since this may be your introduction to me, i do write in first person, just inserting Y/N. 2nd and 3rd person are absolutely insufferable to me and make me wanna die. with that being said, i’m glad there’s no shortage of those fics on this website. my masterlist is the pinned post on my profile and i hope you all enjoy this imagine! ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

The journey to Nicholas’ grandparents’ house is filled with quiet anticipation. We haven’t visited in a while, not since Colette was born. I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of introducing Colette to her great-grandparents, Nick SR and Betty. Nicholas always speaks of them with such affection, often recounting tales from his childhood spent at their cozy home. They were instrumental in raising him, and their influence is deeply ingrained in who he’s become. Now, I’m eager to see how they’ll respond to our little family, especially to me as a new mother.

The sun is high in the sky as we pull into the gravel driveway, which crunches under the tires. The house is a charming, white colonial-style home with flower boxes beneath the windows, bursting with vibrant blooms. It looks like something out of a postcard—quaint and welcoming. Nicholas squeezes my hand as he turns off the car.

“You ready for this?” he asks, his brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

I smile, though my heart races. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond unwilling to let his hand go for the last time.

I eventually gain enough strength to go a second without touching him. We both step out of the car, and I unbuckle Colette from her car seat, carefully lifting her into my arms. She’s dressed in a soft, pastel onesie with tiny flowers embroidered on the front. Her big espresso colored eyes, so much like Nicholas’, blink up at me as she squirms a little in my hold. I kiss her soft forehead, breathing in that sweet baby scent that always seems to calm my nerves.

Before we even reach the front door, it flies open, and Betty appears on the porch. Her face lights up in a radiant smile as she hurries down the steps toward us. She’s a small woman, but she moves with surprising speed and agility, her silver hair tied back in a loose bun.

“There she is! Oh, it’s about time!” Betty exclaims, ignoring Nicholas entirely as she comes straight for me and Colette. Her arms are wide open, and she pulls me into a hug, careful not to crush the baby between us. “You, my darling, look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. And this precious girl…” Her voice trails off as she gazes at Colette with shining eyes. “Oh, she’s just perfect.”

I laugh softly, returning her hug. “I’ve missed you, Mrs. Betty and thank you.”

Betty steps back, her hands still on my arms, her attention fully on Colette. “No, thank you! You brought another little angel into our family,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve made me the happiest great-grandmother.”

Nicholas, standing off to the side, grins as he watches the scene unfold. “Hey, Grandma,” he chimes in, clearly amused. “Good to see you too.”

Betty waves a hand in his direction without even glancing his way. “Yes, yes, Nicholas. We’ll get to you in a minute.” Her eyes shimmer as she reaches out to gently stroke Colette’s chubby cheek. “She’s absolutely precious,” she coos. “She looks just like Nicholas did when he was a baby.”

Just then, Nicholas’ grandfather steps out onto the porch, his tall frame casting a shadow as he approaches us. His blue eyes light up when he sees me holding Colette. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite girl,” he says with a warm grin, pulling me into a quick hug before peering down at Colette. “And look at this—another beauty in the family. You’ve done well,” he adds, giving Nicholas a nod of approval before clapping him on the shoulder.

“Well she is 50% of me so…” Nicholas’s twinge of jealousy for his favorite girls peeks out.

“Oh, hush, Nicholas,” Betty replies, waving a hand at him dismissively before turning to me again. “Come on, dear, let’s get you inside. You must be exhausted after the drive. And you must let me hold this precious girl as soon as you’re settled.”

Inside the house, the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers. The living room is cozy and welcoming, filled with family photos and knick-knacks that speak of years of love and memories. There are pictures of Nick as a little boy, his brother, and even one of us on our wedding day.

Betty leads us to the couch, offering to take Colette for a little while so I can rest. “She’s such a calm baby,” Betty remarks as she cradles Colette in her arms. “I remember Nicholas being a little firecracker at this age—always kicking and fussing. But you, my dear, are an angel, aren’t you?” she coos, her voice full of love as Colette blinks up at her.

Nick Sr. settles into an armchair nearby, watching with a contented smile. “Betty’s right,” he says, his voice warm. “Nick was a handful. Always running around and getting into trouble. I don’t know how we managed to keep up with him.”

Nicholas chuckles, settling beside me on the couch and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve heard those stories a few times.”

“I bet you have,” Betty says, her eyes twinkling. “But look at you now—such a wonderful father and husband. We’re so proud of you.”

My heart swells at their words, and I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. It’s clear how much they love Nicholas and how deeply they cherish their family. Their affection extends to me as well, making me feel welcomed in a way that eases the nervousness I had felt earlier.

Betty carefully passes Colette back to me, and I can’t help but notice how her eyes linger on us—on the way I hold my daughter, the way Colette nuzzles into me. After a moment, she glances at Nick Sr., sharing a look that seems to speak volumes.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Betty says suddenly, rising from her seat with a bright smile. “We have something to show you.”

She disappears into another room, returning moments later with a large, leather-bound photo album. She hands it to Nicholas with a wide grin. “These are pictures of you when you were about Colette’s age. I thought it’d be fun to compare.”

Nicholas takes the album and begins flipping through the pages, his eyes lighting up as he sees the photos. “Oh wow,” he says, pointing to a picture of himself as a baby, bundled in a blanket. “Look at that, she really does look like me.”

I lean over to see the photo, and sure enough, the resemblance is striking. Colette has inherited her father’s dark hair and expressive eyes, and there’s something about the way she smiles that’s undeniably Nicholas Chavez.

Betty beams. “She’s got that same spark in her eyes that you had. And those cheeks! I could pinch them all day.”

I can’t help but smile as Nicholas flips through more photos—Nicholas as a toddler, covered in mud from head to toe; Nicholas on his first day of school, looking serious and determined; Nicholas holding a toy sword, pretending to be a knight. It’s clear that his grandparents were there for all of it, capturing every moment with care.

“Look at this one,” Nicholas says, laughing as he holds up a picture of himself as a toddler, sitting in a high chair with spaghetti sauce smeared all over his face.

Betty chuckles. “You loved spaghetti. Still do, if I remember correctly.”

As we continue to flip through the album, Betty excuses herself and motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what she wants to talk about, but her kind smile reassures me.

Once we’re alone, she turns to me, her expression soft and full of understanding. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing a wonderful job, Y/N,” she says, her voice gentle. “Being a new mom is hard, and it can feel overwhelming sometimes. But from what I’ve seen, you’re handling it beautifully.”

I feel a lump form in my throat at her words, the unexpected kindness bringing a surge of emotion. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “It’s been… challenging at times. I have moments where I wonder if I’m doing it right.”

Betty reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “Those moments of doubt are normal. Every mother feels them. But you have such a natural way with Colette. She feels safe and loved with you—that’s the most important thing.”

I nod, blinking back tears. “It’s just… sometimes I feel like I should be able to do more. I get so tired, and Nick’s been amazing, but…” I trail off, stopping myself from revealing my biggest insecurities.

Betty’s eyes soften even more. “It’s okay to ask for help, dear. You don’t have to do it all on your own. If you ever need anything—advice, a break, someone to talk to—you can always come to me. I’m here for you, and so is Nicholas. We’re all family now,” she offers.

Her words wrap around me like a comforting embrace, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of relief. “Thank you,” I whisper, grateful beyond words.

Betty smiles and gives my hand another gentle squeeze. “You’re doing wonderfully. Just remember to take care of yourself too, okay?”

I nod, my heart swelling with appreciation for this woman who has welcomed me into her family with open arms. As we walk back into the living room, I feel lighter, the weight of my doubts lifting just a little.

Nicholas looks up as we enter, his eyes softening as they meet mine. “Everything okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Yeah,” I say softly. “Everything’s perfect.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, Betty leans forward with a warm smile, her hands clasped in her lap. “It’s been so wonderful having you all here today,” she says, her eyes soft as she looks between Nicholas, me, and Colette. “Why don’t you stay the night? It’s been far too long since we’ve had a full house, and we’d love the chance to spend more time with you.”

Nicholas turns to me, his voice gentle as he asks, “What do you think? We don’t have anywhere to rush off to, and it would give me a break from driving back tonight.”

I hesitate for a moment, weighing the offer. I think about Colette’s bedtime routine, the packed bags in the car, and my own exhaustion. But as I glance around at the warmth of the house, Nick’s grandparents’ eager faces, and the calmness that seems to settle over everything, I feel myself relax. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a change of scenery, and the idea of spending more time here—surrounded by family—sounds like exactly what I need.

“That sounds wonderful,” I say, smiling at Betty. “Thank you. We’d love to stay.”

Betty’s face lights up, and Nick Sr. nods with a wide grin. “Perfect,” he says. “We’ve got the guest room ready, and I can set up the bassinet in the guest room next to it. It’ll be like old times, having a little one in the house again.”

Betty stands, already making her way toward the kitchen. “I’ll put some tea on for later. You two make yourselves at home.”

Nicholas squeezes my hand, a smile spreading across his face. “See? It’s going to be a nice, quiet night—just us, Colette, and the best grandparents ever.”

The evening unfolds comfortably from there. Betty and Nick Sr. share stories about Nick’s childhood over cups of tea, their voices light with laughter and nostalgia. As the night deepens, we finally make our way to the guest room. It’s cozy and inviting, with a soft bedspread, and warm lighting.

Colette falls asleep easily after nursing, making for an easy bedtime routine. Nicholas and I kiss her on the forehead goodnight once we’ve got her situated in the bassinet. We separate briefly to prep for bed and when I’m finished, I crack open the door to the en-suite bathroom.

Nicholas looks up from a script, setting it to the side of the bedside table. My feet patter over to him and he pulls back the duvet for me to climb in. “I’m so tired,” I note as I slide between the sheets.

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. “I know, baby. Maybe my grandparents will watch her in the morning so we can sleep in,” he theorizes lowly, but I can still feel the bass of his voice rumbling from his chest into my back.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter closed. It’s been an emotional day, and I’m ready for sleep. “It’s okay if they can’t. I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he breathes out with his lips kissing my ear one last time.

My body lets me drift into sleep, hearing nothing but Nicholas’ breathing and the faint sound of crickets outside. But that peace is eventually interrupted by the familiar sound of Colette’s soft cry filling the quiet room.

I blink awake, momentarily disoriented, unsure of where I am. The dimly lit room feels unfamiliar, and for a brief, groggy moment, I can’t remember how we ended up here. But then the memories come rushing back—the visit to Nick’s grandparents, Betty’s kind words, the warmth of the evening.

With a heavy sigh, I sit up in bed, my body aching with fatigue. I haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and Colette’s cries, though soft, feel like they’re pulling me out of the little bit of rest I’ve managed. The sheets feel cold, and for the first time tonight, I realize Nick’s arms aren’t wrapped around me as they usually are.

The bed dips beneath me, and I hear the soft thud of feet padding across the floor. “Shit,” Nicholas mutters under his breath as he comes into view. I lift my head, watching him groggily fumble with the baby monitor to turn down the volume.

His chocolate tinted eyes meet mine in the dimly lit room, his face softened with a sleepy smile. “I got it, baby. Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, his voice thick and gravelly.

I don’t resist as my head falls back onto the pillow. Nicholas tucks the duvet around my shoulders, his touch warm and reassuring, and leans down to kiss my forehead before slipping out of the room.

As my eyes flutter shut once again, I can’t help but feel immense gratitude for him—for understanding, for seeing me. Nicholas has always been an amazing partner, but since Colette was born, something has deepened. Maybe it's the way he’s embraced fatherhood, those tender daddy traits emerging in him day by day.

I don’t know how long I drift in and out of sleep before the bed dips once more. This time, I turn over to face Nicholas, only to find him kneeling on top of the duvet, cradling Colette in his arms. He gently rocks her, and his brown eyes, full of apology, meet mine. “I'm sorry, babe,” he says softly. “She’s hungry, and I checked the fridge and my Grandma must’ve given her the rest. We’re out of pumped milk,” he gives his valid reason for disturbing me.

With a tired sigh, I push myself up, scooting back against the headboard. “It’s okay,” I reply, motioning for Nicholas to hand Colette to me. “It’s not your fault I don’t pump fast enough for her.”

Nicholas shifts closer, still kneeling, his eyes warm with reassurance. “It’s not your fault either, baby girl,” he says tenderly. “You’re doing everything right. She’s just got my appetite, that’s all.”

Nick’s words bring a smile to my face as I take our little girl in my arms, feeling the love and support that radiates from him. Colette’s small body relaxes the moment she’s nestled in my arms, and I adjust my position to help her latch on. Instinctively, her tiny mouth finds its way, and I feel that familiar pull as she begins to nurse. The room is quiet now, save for the soft sounds of her feeding and the gentle rustle of the duvet as Nicholas shifts beside me, sitting back in his spot where he just laid.

The weight of exhaustion still presses heavily on my body, but there's something calming about this moment—something intimate and grounding. Colette’s little hand rests against my skin, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling as she nurses. Despite the tiredness, I feel a sense of peace wash over me.

Nicholas watches us, his expression soft and filled with admiration. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his touch tender. "You’re amazing, you know that?" he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath in the dark.

I smile faintly, my heart swelling at his words, but before I can respond, he continues, his eyes never leaving mine. "I don’t tell you enough how much I love you... both of you." His gaze flickers to Colette, his eyes warm and full of adoration. "Watching you with her... seeing how strong you are, how much you give every day. You’ve made me the luckiest man in the world, Y/N."

His words sink into me, wrapping around my heart like a warm blanket. The weight of my earlier guilt begins to lift, replaced by the quiet assurance that I’m not alone in this. We’re a team, navigating the highs and lows together.

"I love you too," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion as I glance down at Colette, her soft breaths steady against me. "And I’m so grateful for you. I couldn’t do this without you."

Nicholas leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise of his words. "You’re the best mom, you know that? And she’s lucky to have you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my skin.

I close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his presence and feeling the steady rhythm of Colette’s nursing. In this moment, the exhaustion, the doubts, and the guilt of my postpartum depression fade into the background, leaving only the love we share—the love that brought Colette into our lives.

Nicholas settles back into bed beside me, his hand resting gently on my leg, a silent reminder that we’re in this together. And as Colette’s soft suckling continues, I let myself fully relax.

Once Colette finishes nursing, her tiny body grows limp in my arms, signaling she’s drifted back to sleep. I carefully adjust her, cradling her small frame against my chest. Nicholas is still sitting beside me, his hand never leaving my leg, his eyes filled with the kind of tenderness that makes my heart swell.

“Do you want me to take her?” Nicholas asks softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

I nod, and with practiced gentleness, he scoops her up and places her between us on the bed. Colette barely stirs, her little hands curling up by her face as she nestles into the space between us. The sight of her lying there, so peaceful and content, brings a soft smile to my lips. My body involuntarily slides down and I stoke her cheek with the back of my finger.

Nick lays down with his head propped up in one arm, the other sliding around me. But as I gaze at Colette sleeping peacefully between us, a small wave of anxiety creeps in. What if we roll over onto her during the night? My breath hitches slightly, and I turn my head toward him.

Nicholas immediately senses my concern and shifts closer, his hand coming to rest gently on my cheek. "Hey, don't worry," he says softly, his voice reassuring. "I’ve got her. We’ve got her. I won’t let anything happen." His thumb brushes against my skin as he speaks, his gaze steady and full of calm. "I’ve read up on this, remember? She’s safe with us. We’re light sleepers, and we’re both hyper-aware she’s here. I’ll make sure we’re careful."

I nod, though the worry still lingers. Nicholas leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You won’t roll over on her. I won’t either. Trust me, baby. And if you’re still worried, I can take her back to the bassinet,” he assures me.

I glance down at Colette, her tiny chest rising and falling, completely at ease between us. There’s something comforting about her being so close, something I don’t want to give up. "No," I say softly, shaking my head. "I want her here with us. I just... I get nervous sometimes,” I admit to him, the concerns laced with my postpartum depression symptoms.

"I know," he murmurs. "But you’re not alone in this. We’re doing it together, okay? She’s safe. We’ll keep her safe,” he promises.

His warmth and the calm assurance in his voice help to ease the anxiety a little, and I let out a slow breath. I snuggle closer to him, nestling my head in the crook of his neck. "Thank you," I whisper.

Nicholas kisses the top of my head, his hand stroking Colette’s tiny arm before returning it to my waist. “I used to dream about this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You, me, and a baby… just lying here like this, all together.” His eyes shine in the dim light, filled with a quiet wonder. “I’d imagine what it would feel like, how perfect it would be. But this... this is even better than I imagined.”

His words sink deep into my chest, filling me with warmth. I glance down at Colette, her chest rising and falling steadily between us, and I feel a wave of contentment wash over me. “I’m glad too. It’s everything I didn’t know I needed,” I whisper back.

Nick’s thumb rubs gentle circles over the exposed skin on my side, and for a while, we lie there in comfortable silence, both of us watching Colette sleep. I feel the weight of his arm around me, the warmth of his body, and I can’t help but think about our future—about the life we’re building together.

After a while, I glance up at Nick, my voice soft but curious. “Do you ever think about… having another one? Another baby, I mean.”

His reaction is immediate. His brown eyes light up, the glint of excitement undeniable. He grins, that boyish, playful smile I fell in love with, and there’s no hesitation in his voice. “Oh, absolutely. I thought one of you was cute, but two though? Didn’t think I could handle it. But now that I’ve experienced it, I want three of you as soon as possible,” he rambles.

I laugh softly, both amused and surprised by his enthusiasm. “Three of us, huh?” I ask to clarify he’s not drunk on love.

“Yeah, babe,” he says, his hand moving to stroke Colette’s tiny hand before trailing over my arm. “We could start trying as soon as possible. I mean, why wait? We make great babies together,” he jokes and I stifle a laugh to not wake up our sleeping child.

His grin turns mischievous as he leans in closer, his voice dropping a little lower. “We could even try out some freaky positions this time… you know, spice things up.”

I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head at him, though my heart flutters at his words. “That’s all you, God bless your dad’s genetics,” I tease, eyeing him with a smirk.

Nicholas chuckles, clearly enjoying my response, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes too—a real desire to keep building this life together. “I’m serious though,” he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on my waist. “I want more of this. More of us. I want a whole bunch of mini versions of you running around, driving me crazy in the best way.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I feel a flush of warmth spread through me. I lean closer, letting my fingers trace over his arm. “You’re really ready for another one, huh?”

Nick’s gaze locks with mine, intense but full of love. “Yeah, Y/N. I don’t just want another one. I want a whole football team of kids with you. As soon as you’re ready,” he says firmly.

I bite my lip, considering his words, feeling the quiet excitement bubbling up inside me. “I might just let you lock me down tonight,” I tease, my voice soft but playful.

His eyes darken slightly, that same spark of mischief flickering in them. “Oh, baby, don’t tempt me,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a lingering kiss against my lips.

I pull back slightly, laughing against his mouth. “Let’s not rush it,” I whisper, even though my hormones are raging at the thought. “But... I do love the idea of growing our little family,” I add to soften the blow of sex denial.

Nicholas grins again, his arm pulling me closer as Colette sleeps peacefully between us. “Then let’s make it happen,” he says softly. “One more baby… and then another after that, we can talk again. I just know I want it all with you. Every first word and every first day of school, my love.”

I smile, resting my head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of his words and the future he envisions wash over me. “One step at a time,” I murmur, though the idea is already taking root in my mind, the thought of more little ones filling our home with love.

As we lay there, cuddling around Colette, the future feels wide open—and incredibly full of promise. The room is quiet, the soft hum of the night surrounding us, and as we lay there, I feel the steady rise and fall of Nick’s chest beneath my palms.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. I smile softly, my body already succumbing to sleep as I whisper back,

“Goodnight, Nicholas. I love you,” I murmur, never getting tired of reminding him.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice full of warmth and certainty. “Both of my girls.”

With that, the last thing I feel is the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of Colette’s breathing between us, and the overwhelming sense of love that wraps around the three of us, pulling us into the soft cocoon of sleep.

The next time I stir awake, it’s to the feeling of the sun shining on my face. Nicholas’ familiar presence is next to me, his body relaxed as he leans back against the headboard. I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the slight rustle of pages as he quietly reads. For a moment, I let myself enjoy the comfort of having him close.

But something is wrong.

I don’t feel Colette.

The tiny body that was nestled between us is gone, and in an instant, a wave of cold panic floods my chest. My breath catches, and my heart starts to pound, my worst fear bubbling to the surface. Oh God, did I roll over her? Did we…?

My eyes snap open, and I sit up abruptly, frantically scanning the bed. My hands reach out, patting the mattress in blind desperation as my breath quickens. Where is she? My mind spirals into worst-case scenarios, and my pulse races faster with each second I can’t find her.

Nicholas looks up from his script, his brow furrowing as he notices my panic. “Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is calm, but I can hear the concern lacing his words.

“Colette,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper as the fear clutches at me. “She’s not here, Nick. I—where is she?”

Nicholas immediately places his script aside and sits up, reaching for me. His hands find my shoulders, grounding me. “Babe, she’s fine,” he says gently, his voice steady, though I can see the alarm in his eyes as he realizes why I’m panicking. “Grandma has her. She came in earlier to take her so you could rest. She’s with her now, probably showing her off to her knitting group. Everything’s okay.”

I stare at Nicholas, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through me, but the words slowly sink in. Colette isn’t in danger. She’s not here because Betty took her.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my chest as the fear begins to ebb away. “I thought… I woke up and she wasn’t there. I thought we—” My voice falters, not even wanting to finish the thought.

Nicholas pulls me into his arms, holding me close. “I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you to tell you, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” he apologizes profusely.

I nod against Nick’s chest, the tension finally loosening from my body as I cling to him. “I just… that’s what I’ve been afraid of, rolling over her in our sleep,” I admit.

“I know,” Nicholas murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But I would never let that happen. I swear that to you,” he adds.

I take a deep breath, letting the warmth of his embrace steady me. My pulse slows down, and the overwhelming panic that had gripped me starts to dissipate, leaving me feeling drained. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N,” Nicholas says, his hand gently stroking my back. “You’re a mom. It’s normal to worry, but I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.”

I pull back slightly, meeting his eyes that are full of understanding. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice still shaky but filled with gratitude.

Nicholas smiles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Get some more rest, okay? Grandma’s got Colette covered.”

I nod, feeling the last remnants of panic finally fade. I glance at his script beside him and give a tired smile. “You’re memorizing lines this early?” I pry.

He chuckles. “Just passing the time until you woke up. But you come first,” he vows.

I sink back into the pillows, the warmth of Nicholas beside me a comforting presence now that the fear has passed. As I close my eyes, the world feels right again. Colette is safe, Nicholas is here, and I let myself relax fully for the first time since waking up. The panic has faded into the background, leaving only the steady hum of reassurance from my husband beside me.

#nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez one shot #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #Nicholas Chavez fluff #nicholas chavez imagine #daddy!nicholas chavez #dad!nicholas chavez #husband!nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez one shot

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soobnny · 11 months ago

Text

dating him | seo changbin

❝ everyone pay attention…. i love my girlfriend ❞

okay hear me out

hear me out …..

seo changbin biggest kisser 🙁🙁🙁

i can just imagine him kissing u all the time

every chance he gets

forehead, chin, neck, cheeks, forehead, lips, WHEREVER.

nowhere is safe

he just thinks u are so beautiful

also just a hunch but he probably is a big thigh kisser i feel like he loves thighs !!!!!

have fun thinking about that

changbin is giving me best friends to lovers type beat

either that or strangers to lovers with a miscommunication twist

picture him accidentally getting ur food order cos u got the exact same thing

and the waiter’s like .. “are u (name)?”

he’s confused at first bc huh no i’m changbin

and then u come over

AND NOW HE IS SO EMBARRASSED

this is embarrassing

this had to happen to him in front of a pretty girl … you … why

that’s the beginning of ur love story

wait i just suddenly thought of something

OK SO here’s an alternative meet cute

you

well…

you can’t park for the life of u

and he’s next in line to u

so he helps u 😭😭😭

like gets out of his car and parks it for u

u offer coffee as thank you

who was he to say no

ANYWAYS fast forward to the present

i feel like ur dates are either dinner cruises or dollar dates

like either extremely expensive

or cute, fun, and cheap

it depends on his mood or the event

he loves spoiling u tho

mention one thing u want and he probably already bought it for u

he just knows u that well

either that or he’s rushing to buy it immediately

OKAY NOW

here are some of the things he does for u

changbin special #1 —> opens all ur jars for u

having a hard time opening ur bottle of water? no worries

changbin to the rescue

want a pickle out of that jar? he’s already grabbing it and opening it for u

u will never touch a jar in ur life anymore

changbin special #2 —> shares his food w u

i feel like food can be one of his love languages

he just wants to be sure u’re eating well and good when you’re with him

PLUS i just watched their interview where the members say he doesn’t share

but with you he does ok !!!!! with u he does

he’d share anything with u 🥹🥹🥹🥹

changbin special #3 —> “saw this and thought of u” text messages

and it’s the cutest things ever

or the most random things

no in between

it’s a coin on the floor or a little squirrel

speaking of texts

he’s the type to spam u with cute messages and emojis

i miss you baby 🥰🥰🥰💗💓💝💘💖💕💕🩷❤️❤️💞💓💞💗💕💘💝💝💖😍😘😘😘🥰😍🥰🥵

changbin special #4 —> piggyback rides

u will never ever have to worry about being tired bc changbin is there to the rescue

he loves it too bc he gets to have u close and he can also hold ur thighs

changbin thigh obsession agenda

he loves running with u behind him

honestly i can def see him as playful at times

but not too fast

he couldn’t risk making u fall

one time it happened and he doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself after seeing the TINIEST scar on ur knee

cleans it up for you and everything

moving on

now here are some of his favorite things to do WITH you

he loves when u guys r just chilling and he has u on his lap

if he could, he would keep u there 24/7

would be the type to pull u on his lap during movie night with the boys

EVEN THO THE COUCH ISN’T EVEN FULL

cue playful vomit noises by the boys

he couldn’t care less

at the end of the day, it’s HIM who has YOU on his LAP

so who’s rly winning

he also loves doing chores to ur favorite songs

mini dance breaks in between

he’d use the broom as his mic

now you have a personal concert from the boy

loves doing girly pop songs

yes he’s singing that boy is mine by ariana grande

yes he’s also doing the tiktok choreography

and YES HE’S ABSOLUTELY EATING IT UP

yes btw, he would film tiktoks with u

you’d send him a like and he’s just down every single time

you’d even catch him trying to memorize the choreo on his free time

u know that yeah glo tiktok .. yup he’s rapping

just ANYTHING with u

and ofc how could i ever leave out gym dates

the first time u accepted to go to the gym with him, he was convinced he could die right there

he would die a happy man

he’s happy u’re sharing his passion w him

(even more if u aren’t rly a gym person before him so he appreciates it even more)

HEART EYES when he sees u in ur gym fit

buys u everything

all the outfits and whatever u need

becomes protective at the gym

but he does everything for u

cleans the equipment before u use it

spots for u and things like that

anything for u

princess treatment fr

side eye at the guys looking at u

u would suddenly feel a figure behind u

don’t worry, it’s just changbin trying to show everyone that he’s the lucky guy that got u

he’s quite ltrly ur watermark

he also loves that cliche push up thing where u’re underneath him and he kisses u everytime he goes down

oh did i tell u he has one of those ‘i ❤️ my gf” shirts

and he LOVES wearing them in public

he’s so cheeky with it

hmmmmm what else

OH he rly enjoys making silly faces at each other from across the room

he always makes u laugh

and smthn i see happening is him trying to do legos with u but he rage quits

changbin also gives me healthy communicator

but like

u have to give him a bit of space first

he can get angry so the moment he does, he asks u for a moment

cos i feel that he’s easy to upset

when he’s sure he won’t take it out on u

and when he’s sure he’s a bit more level headed

he’ll ask if u two can finally talk abt it

good job changbin

anyways

at the end of the day

the boys are sick of u two

they know everything about u

PLUS he always has a stupid smile on his face whenever he talks about u

I LOVE LOVE !!!!!

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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kdogreads · 2 years ago

Note

i just want richie to rail me h a r d in missionary whilst holding me hands is that too much for a girl to ask for :(

Not too much at all, nonny 🤭😍🥵

This derailed into a breeding/daddy kink…. Sorry 😳🥵

FILTHY SMUT BELOW THE CUT (minors DNI)

“Sh, sh, shh, baby girl, I know,” Richie rasps almost mockingly, “I know you can take it, baby.”

All you can muster is a whimper of a whiny “yes” nodding frantically as your eyes threaten to roll back into your head.

Richie has you pinned on your back, hands pressed up above your head with his own. The way his long, slender fingers intertwined with yours keeps you grounded as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“Good fucking girl takin’ my cock like that,” Richie growls above you, his rough pace making your drooling pussy ache, “Who makes you feel this good, baby, huh?”

You barely register the words coming out of his mouth as Richie drills his cock into you over and over again, filling your walls with the most delicious stretch.

“Richie,” You whine, your hips bucking up into his with every grinding thrust, “Please.”

The pressure builds in your core, threatening to implode and spill out all over Richie’s throbbing cock. He grinds into you impossibly deeper — His thick head reaching that spongey spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Your veins run white hot as the blinding pleasure overtakes your senses, every nerve in your body suddenly on fire in the most mind-numbing way. A high pitched moan falls from your lips as your walls pulse erratically around Richie’s aching cock.

“Jesus, baby, fuck! Keep squeezin’ me like that baby girl, come on,” Richie growls as his punishing pace wavers for the first time. He tries desperately to keep his own orgasm at bay while he fucked you through yours and into oblivion.

As you slowly drift back to reality, you wrap your legs tightly around Richie’s hips to keep him deeply stuffed inside your drooling pussy. He groans as he realizes what you’re doing, knuckles turning white as he squeezes your hands.

“Cum in me, baby,” You whine, surprising yourself at your boldness, “Please, daddy, fill me up.”

Richie hisses something akin to “holy fuck” and explodes inside you, shooting rope after rope of his hot seed deep into your aching core.

Both of you are a sweaty, panting mess as Richie slowly pulls out of you and grants you another pleasant aftershock as his swollen tip brushes your clit.

Your sudden jump causes him to finally release your hands after what feels like forever and lean down to cradle your face. His lips can’t help but curl into a smile as he kisses you softly, pecking your lips a few times before drifting onto his side and pulling you along with him in a tight embrace.

You lay there tangled up in each other for a while, letting your heart rates slowly return to normal. Richie’s strong arms keep you snuggly pressed to his chest while he presses soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, nose; anything he can reach.

After a few minutes, you squeeze him gently and try to sit up, but Richie pulls you back to him.

“Stay just a minute, baby, s’all,” He practically begs of you, “Stay right here mama.”

You let out a soft giggle as you realize what he really wants. Happy to oblige, you roll onto your back and guide one of his hands to your tired, drooling pussy. Both of you groan as he pushes some of his hot load back inside you with two fingers.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart, you oughtta be more careful,” He props himself up on his elbow to meet your face with his, “One of these times I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

You smiled and shook your head at Richie’s silly act, knowing full well he wanted nothing more than you get you pregnant.

“Well,” You leaned up to kiss his lips sweetly, “I sure hope that’s a promise, Daddy.”

#richie the bear #richie x reader #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #shut up richie #kdogreads #the bear #the bear imagine #the bear smut #kinktober 2023

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elysianightsss · 1 year ago

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More Price thots🥵 because who wouldn’t want this😭

You stir the milk into your tea while you wipe the sleep from your eyes, big heavy knitted sweater hanging from your tired frame. It was his and though it had been in the wash, the sweater reeked of him. His fucking delicious smell that you wanted to roll around in. All his clothes fucking reeked of it.

You loved the strong musky spiced stench that came with him, it was everything. Especially while you were waiting for him to return home from his mission. Every day had been so long and so exhausting without him at home. You couldn’t sleep properly at night without your big warm pillow, his strong arms wrapping around your frame and easily coaxing you to sleep.

Any house work felt pointless without him there, why did the house need to look spotless? Why did the dishes need to be washed straight away? What was the point if he wasn’t there to give you a big kiss as your reward, after complaining that he could have done it instead.

Because of this Price isn’t at all surprised when he comes home to find the house a total mess, and his sweet little wife nowhere in sight. “Darlin?” He listens hoping to hear you reply but there’s nothing but silence in reply, he sighs dropping his black gear bag.

Pulling off his dark brown leather jacket and placing it on one of the coat hooks next to the front door, he enters the house shuffling out of his heavy boots incase you might be asleep. Creeping through the messy home quietly, he makes it up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Your shared bedroom to find you finally passed out from exhaustion, he smiled softly at you. Thin lips curving up, his bushy moustache moving with them. He truly loved coming home to you.

Price showered away any last specs of dirt or blood on him so he was clean for his woman. He dried his burly, muscular body not bothering to put anything on before slipping into bed with you. Instantly you flinched waking up only to find your husband staring at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“It’s okay darlin’ I’m home,” he soothed pulling you into his big arms, you happily allowed him to manhandle you nuzzling against him as he turned you, your ass slotting against his hips perfectly. Like you were made for him. “Sleep now love.”

“Sorry the house is a mess.” You slurred gripping onto the hairy thick arm that had wound itself around you.

He half chuckled half scoffed before replying in his accented voice, nose dragging up the side of your neck, inhaling deeply,“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll sort everything tomorrow. Now go to sleep.”

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starshipsofstarlord · 1 year ago

Text

lap girl (3)

summary. there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵

warnings. smut, unprotected sex, handjob, cursing, fluff

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

prison

Her hips jolted in adjustment atop of his own, driving his cock deeper within the depths of her arousal glazed cervix, pulling a long drawn moan out from Daryl’s parted lips, as his eyelids fluttered in an abyss of euphoric peace. It was all he needed, to be within her, to feel her perfectly close, and he hadn’t needed to drive a hard bargain to have her crawling wantonly on his lap. Y/n’s fingers wove in his hair that had grown since the survivors of Woodbury had amounted to the numbers of the prison, relieving the stress that Daryl felt to provide for the increased population.

She was stressed too, working her ass off as she watched Rick potter about in his little farm, almost oblivious to the subsequent efforts the rest of them strived through to salvage supplies - he needed a rest though after everything, and this was y/n and Daryl’s own substitute of that. Their lips messily moulded together, drinking up the others escaping sounds, neither of them wanted to attract any peepers to their intimacy which was hard to come by with the afflicting chores that had to be completed.

“Ya feel so good girl.” At the sound of his gruff voice, y/n mewled lightly, burying her rolling-eyed face in his shoulder, as she wiggled insistingly against his lazy thrusts. It was midday, however despite that they were fuelled with the weakness of exhaustion, using the last of the energy that they had reserved for one another. “Thatta girl.” Daryl placed his large and rough hands on her hips, moving her in unison with his sloppy thrusts that somehow managed to hit the perfect spot even with his tired exterior.

“Dar-“ a yelp stifled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth to block it from reaching any passing ears, as she chose to bite lightly on his still clothed shoulder, scratching lightly at his leather vest in sexual distress; her peak was coming closer and closer with each passing second, and so Daryl leaned back against the wall in their cell that was their escape from everything outside, and brushed his tingling fingertips against her angelic face. “I love you.” Her confession that had been spoken many times before came out as a whisper, as his heavy lidded eyes met her watery orbs.

“Love ya more sunshine.” Daryl muttered, his breath hitting her lips as he raised his hips so that it was easier to increase the pace in which his cock was moving inside of her, his head resting against the grey bricks that supported his position. “Gonna have ta pull outta ya soon.” He reminded her, watching y/n screw her face up at the concept, however it was the safest option considering Glenn and Maggie had used up the supply in the stores that were nearby to their location. “Ya gonna cum first girl, don’ ya worry.”

To emphasise his point, he reached his hand down so that the pad of his thumb was swirling disoriented circles around her clit, and y/n all but launched herself at him as she passionately joined their lips again, muffled moans spilling out occasionally for their lack of required air. “Fuck- I’m, I’m gonna-“ She had no time to finish her sentence as she threw her head back as a reaction from the rush that flowed intensely throughout her body, and Daryl leaned tentatively forward, chasing her lips, as he lifted her a little so he could pull out from her sweet cunt.

As soon as he did so, y/n in her fucked out haze grabbed his erection that was covered in her essence in her hand, stroking him at a desperate pace, biting his lip to catch the tracker off guard. “Shit.” Daryl closed his lustful blue eyes as his face became slack, all of the sensations that he was experiencing driving him wild. It wasn’t long before he came, spilling his seed across the expanse of y/n’s naked thigh, and he could finally catch his breath. “Ya jus’ can’t get ‘nough, I swear.” There was a dopey smile on his face, one that he reserved solely for his girl, and he caressed the back of her neck, before pulling her closer, until she was once again on his lap.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fic #twd smut #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus smut #twd x reader #twd x you #twd imagine

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 year ago

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Missed Me? Pt 1

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife

Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit

This gif 🥵 fuck me please

“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.

“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”

“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.

“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.

“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.

He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.

Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.

“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.

“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”

“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”

“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.

Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.

You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.

He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.

"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.

“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.

The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.

Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.

The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.

’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’

“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”

“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.

“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”

“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.

“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”

“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.

“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”

“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.

“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.

“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.

Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.

A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.

“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.

There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.

The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.

“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.

“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.

“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.

“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.

“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.

“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.

“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.

“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.

You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.

You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.

Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.

Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.

He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.

Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.

He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.

“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.

“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.

Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.

“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.

You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.

“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.

His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.

He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.

This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.

“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”

His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.

“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.

“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.

You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.

You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.

He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.

Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.

“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”

You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.

“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.

“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.

“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.

“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”

“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.

“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.

His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.

He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.

You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.

“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”

Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.

“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”

“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.

“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.

“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.

“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.

You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.

He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”

He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.

You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.

That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list

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concreteangel92 · 27 days ago

Note

Can I please, please request a one shot from your post below, I need it biblically😂

https://www.tumblr.com/concreteangel92/778950918927433728/this-is-mean-dom-im-sick-of-you-acting-up-noah

Thank you, you’re amazing! 💕

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: mean dom!Noah, dom/sub relationship, degradation, PiV, recording someone during sex (consensual), brat taming, edging, spanking, slapping, slight spitting but not much

Thank you 🖤

This kind of request is always right up my street, mean dom Noah is my absolute favourite 🥵

Permanent Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bloody-spades @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @chey-h @xxkittenkissesxx @lyschko666 @rumoured-whispers @renegadebirch @floodflameschosen @ami--gami

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

You had been warned. More than once but you didn’t listen.

You’d gone to the studio to meet Noah as you were going out for lunch together.

But Noah being the perfectionist that he is, just had to get a few of the tweaks sorted on one of their recordings, he said it would be hour tops.

That had now turned into nearly 3 and you were annoyed and hungry.

As you were bored, you started to wind Noah up, it was small at first. Asking questions when he was trying to focus, pulling on the back of his hoodie playfully while he was talking to his friends, watching videos on your phone with the volume fairly high.

He warned you once with a low growl under his breath. “Enough”

And again with a sharp look over his shoulder, his own hands gripping onto his thighs in annoyance. You only smiled sweetly at him.

The rest of the band and crew appeared oblivious to what was brewing between you both, something you took full advantage of.

The final warning came after you sat on his lap to listen to the recording with him, grinding yourself subtly on his half hard erection in his joggers, you felt his hands digging almost painfully into your hips to halt your movements as he tried to hide a low groan that slipped from his throat causing Jolly to ask if he was ok.

That was it, you knew you’d gone too far.

Noah made a comment about being tired and that they should finally take a break.

Everyone cleared from the studio to go and grab some food apart from you, you went to walk out and you felt Noah’s hand gripping onto the back of your neck and bringing your body into his chest.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just stood holding you in place and reached forward and locked the studio door. The silence was heavier than any yell.

You felt yourself being turned around to stare up at him, his gaze intense and fierce.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“I…I thought we were going for lunch?”

Noah let out a small chuckle.

“Did you now? We would have been going for lunch but then, you decided you wanted to be a brat and act up in front of my friends. And what’s my number one rule baby?”

He was being so condescending, so arrogant.

“Don’t play up in front of them?”

He nodded. “That’s right. And what did you do?”

You shrugged casually, not being able to stop the bratty attitude.

“It wasn’t my fault that you didn’t keep to your word and kept me waiting like a dick”

*Smack*

Noah slapped you across your cheek, not enough to hurt but enough to put you back into submission as he threaded his fingers into your hair and pulled your head backwards so you stare up at his tall frame more.

“This attitude of yours is becoming very tiresome, seems I’m going to have to teach you a lesson in respect”

Noah turned you both around and pushed you face down into the mixing desk.

You gasped as your body hit the surface, the cool edge of the equipment digging into your skin. He kicked your legs apart with his foot, one hand holding you down by the back of your neck, the other sliding up under your top, nails scraping.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Bent over like a fucking toy in my studio. That what you wanted? Attention like a needy little slut?”

He pressed his hips against you, just to feel you squirm. “You make one sound without permission and I’ll drag this out for hours.”

You bit back a moan as you felt him moving around slightly behind you.

He slid your leggings down slowly, deliberately, knuckles brushing your thighs like he had all the time in the world. But you knew better, he was playing with you. Cruel and calculated.

“No panties?” he murmured, amused. “Of course not. Couldn’t even behave for one fucking hour, why would I think that you could dress yourself properly?”

His fingers slipped between your legs, teasing, barely touching, never giving you enough. You whined, hips twitching, but his palm slammed down on your ass, sharp and unforgiving and no doubt leaving a red mark in its place.

“You don’t move unless I say. Now I’m going to record this little punishment my angel, is that ok with you?”

Your brows frowned. “Why?”

“You wanted to be such a disobedient brat and a distraction today that I figured you’d like to help me now, I want to record every sound you make so I can use it in the next recording”

You felt your core clench at the idea, Noah was no stranger to mixing random every day sounds into his music, but he’d never once asked you for this. The thought was intoxicating.

“Yes I’m ok with that Noah”

You felt his hand rub the skin on your hip lovingly, a far contrast to what was coming.

“Thank you baby, I knew you’d want to be a good girl and make it up to me”

You heard his phone being put down on the table not far from you and then heard him pushing his trousers down his legs.

His fingers came up once more to tease your folds as he leaned more over you.

“You’re already dripping for me” he whispered, dragging his tongue along the shell of your ear. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He shoved your face down against the cold metal, your cheek pressing into the control sliders, the edge of a knob digging into your skin but he didn’t care. Neither did you.

Noah pulled back and you heard and felt as he spat directly onto your core and used his fingers to rub it in, causing a moan to fall from your lips.

*smack*

The slap to your ass cheek burned beautifully.

“Did I say you could make any sound yet?”

You shook your head.

*smack*

You bit back another yelp as he spanked you again even harder.

“Where are your manners princess?”

“No sir”

“Much better”

Noah then slipped himself inside your warm walls with no warning, stretching you out sinfully as he groaned low.

“Fuck…you’re so wet, you really are my needy little slut aren’t you?”

You pushed your hips back slightly.

“Yes, all for you”

Noah kept one hand in your hair and the other on your hip as he started a fast and brutal pace, his hips smacking into yours with each thrust, causing the controls to dig into you more as you tried to hold back your moans.

“Let me hear you now baby, I want to hear every sound”

Noah’s movements were relentless, each thrust harder and faster than the last, his hands gripping your hips as if he were holding you in place just to break you further. The heat of him filling you, the way his body slapped against yours, was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body trembled, the pressure in your core building to an unbearable point and you couldn’t stop the noises you were making even if you tried.

“Please…” you gasped, hands desperately gripping the edge of the mixing desk as your body rocked against it. “Noah…fuck…I’m so close…I’m going to…”

Noah suddenly pulled out and pushed away from you leaving you feeling cold and empty.

A sharp cry of frustration left your lips, your body aching, aching for release. “No!” you whimpered, turning your head to look back at him, eyes wide with desperation.

He stood there, his chest heaving, watching you with a dark grin.

“You think you deserve to cum after everything you’ve done today?”

He was teasing you, enjoying the power he had over your body, savoring the frustration as he tucked himself away and made himself look presentable again.

You felt tears in your eyes with how frustrated you felt but you knew better than to push him further when he was in this mood so you nodded submissively to him.

Noah came over to you and leant down to give you a tender kiss and stroked your cheek.

“You know I hate being so mean to you angel, but you have to be taught don’t you?”

You nodded.

“That’s my good girl, if you behave for the rest of the afternoon then I promise I’ll reward you later”

You felt a smile tug on your lips at his words and you nodded again and pulled your leggings up and tried to straighten out your hair that was no doubt a tangled mess.

Noah picked up his phone and you suddenly heard your own cries echoing around the room, your cheeks flushed red.

“That’s my girl, so cock drunk for me always aren’t you baby? I can’t wait to use this for the next record”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #dom noah #noahsebastian #noah bad omens #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian drabble #concreteangel92 #concreteangelasks

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projectionistwrites · 2 years ago

Note

Literally would read any moon knight smut from you 🥵 can I request something with the boys having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it is most in Marc’s character but tbh I’m not particular heh

sorry this took so long hehe i hope you like it <3

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

Marc Spector x afab!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x reader) (2.2k)

Marc Spector didn’t fancy himself a jealous man—but you knew exactly how to push his buttons.

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ mdni) WARNINGS: arguing, jealousy, SMUT (oral (f! and m! receiving), degradation, a bit of choking, facefucking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mean!dom!marc)

It was an accident, really—you hadn’t meant for it to slip out. And yet, there wasn’t a single part of you that felt bad about it.

Marc had already been in a bad mood when he’d woken up that morning, sulking and brooding and generally unpleasant to be around. When you’d asked him what was wrong, he’d brushed you off, insisting he was just tired and had a headache. You knew better than to believe him.

Truthfully, you had a suspicion that Marc had been feeling neglected. After he’d introduced you to Steven several weeks ago, the two of you had been inseparable—you and Marc had been dating for a year and half, so getting to know Steven was like the honeymoon phase all over again. He was sweet, and gentle, and shy, and many other things that Marc simply wasn’t. The contrast excited you, but you could tell that the puppy love between you and Steven had begun to take a toll on Marc.

When you’d gotten home from work today, you had planned on offering to cook a nice meal for you and Marc in an attempt to smooth things over and ease his worried mind, but he clearly was in no mood for reconciliation.

“Honey, I’m hooome.”

You sing-songed jokingly as you walked in the door, keys jingling in the lock. When you received no response, your joviality quickly dissipated and a deep frown etched itself into your face.

“Hello?”

You called again, brows furrowed in confusion. You took a few steps into the apartment, hanging your bag on the coatrack and slipping your shoes from your feet. Again, silence.

You went to turn the corner towards where the bedroom side of the studio apartment was, but quickly collided with a warm body as you rounded the bookshelf.

“Jesus fuck!”

You yelped as a hand came out to steady your shoulder, saving you from stumbling backwards on impact.

“You scared me....”

You hesitated, looking up at the man before you cautiously. The scrunch between his brows and hardness in his brown eyes quickly confirmed your suspicions.

“...Marc.”

Marc mistook your brief moment of pause as disappointment, and he sneered, releasing your arm with a small shove and sidestepping you.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”

You blinked a few times in disbelief, frozen in place as his words took a moment to sink in. When they finally did, you were left reeling, whirling around to face his retreating figure with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Marc huffed angrily, nostrils flaring as he threw himself onto the couch, a hand reaching up to run through his dark hair.

“I said, sorry to disappoint. I’m sure you’d much rather have Steven greeting you when you get home.”

“I never said that.”

You scoffed, approaching him slowly with your arms crossed over your chest. His brown eyes darted up to your face, his lips curled into a scowl.

“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Where is this coming from, Marc?”

It was a stupid question—both of you knew the answer already. Marc’s nostrils flared as he averted his gaze from you, sulking silently and staring off at some point in the distance.

A pang of guilt accompanied the sigh that fell from your lips as you noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and you made your way to the empty spot next to him.

“Hey.”

You started gently, letting your hand trace across the veins of his forearm before your slid your fingers between his own.

“I’m sorry, Marc. I know—I know things have been moving pretty fast between me and Steven, and I know I haven’t made as much time for you as I should have. I’m sorry.”

You leaned into him, head ducking slightly in an attempt to catch his gaze with your own. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he drew in a long, deep inhalation, before he finally opened them again and fixed them on you.

“No, it’s—it’s okay, baby. I’m glad you and Steven are getting along, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen. And I’m sorry I—I freaked out. Just—miss you, s’all.”

He confessed, a slight blush creeping up his neck and ruddying his cheeks. Marc wasn’t often open about his feelings, so the brief moment of vulnerability was significant. You smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush your fingers through his soft curls.

“Why didn’t you just say so, huh, handsome?”

A smirk quickly made its way across his lips at the insinuation in your tone, his arms swiftly wrapping around your body to haul you up onto his lap and into a searing kiss.

It wasn’t until you were seconds away from an orgasm, Marc’s face buried between your thighs, that you’d fucked up.

“Shit, shit—”

You cried, fisting at the sheets on either side of you as Marc’s tongue swirled over your clit, two of his thick fingers buried in your weeping cunt.

“Oh, God, yes, m’gonna cum, gonna—ahh, fuck, don’t stop, yes, Steven, fuu—”

Your hips lurched off the bed when the stimulation abruptly ceased, your eyes shooting open in alarm only to come face-to-face with Marc’s hardened expression, his lips still shining with your slick.

“Fuck, why’d you—?”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He interrupted your whiny plea with his threatening words, growled lowly as his eyes narrowed at you. Your rapid heartrate only sped up when you thought back on your pleasured cries, quickly realizing your mistake. You bolted upright in an instant, your eyes wide and panicked, reaching to grip Marc’s bare shoulders.

“Oh, Marc, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He pulled away from you, rising to his knees on the bed so he loomed over you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your breath stuttered.

“What?”

You yelped when Marc lunged forward, his hand coming to twist in your hair to yank you harshly forward so you were face to face.

“I said,”

he growled, his breath hot on your face and fingers taut in your hair,

“get on your fucking knees.”

He released you with a rough shove and you scrambled off the bed onto your knees, quickly obeying his order. You watched as he slipped off his last remaining layer of clothing before he slowly made his way over to you, his figure towering over you with intimidation and malice. Excitement was beginning to swirl in the pit of your stomach—you’d never seen Marc so angry before, so domineering and unhinged. Still, a small pang of guilt shot through you at your earlier mistake.

“Marc, really, I’m so sorry—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He snapped, and you immediately obliged, eyes blowing wide at the sternness in his tone. His chest was heaving with labored breaths and his nostrils were flared, eyes alight with fury.

“You just don’t know when to stop fucking talking.”

He was right in front of you, now, languidly stroking his hardened length inches away from your face, precum beading at the slit. He reached forward and roughly grabbed your jaw in his other hand, fingers curling to squeeze your cheeks.

“You wanna keep moaning his name? Guess I’ll have to make you shut up.”

His hand migrated up and wrapped in your hair before yanking your neck back. When your lips parted with a surprised gasp, he immediately plunged his thick length into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat without warning. The sudden and abrupt intrusion caused you to gag harshly, and he pulled out only long enough for you to draw in a gasping breath before he thrusted forward again, sinking his cock all the way back into your throat and beginning a steady rhythm of fucking your face.

“Only way you’ll be quiet is if you’ve got a mouth full of dick, huh?”

He grunted, hips snapping forward. There was drool foaming at the sides of your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you forced yourself to sit back and let him use you, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat and his balls slapping noisily against your chin.

“Bet you miss him now, don’t you? Steven doesn’t treat you like this—doesn’t know how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at his words, reaching up to brace your hands on his muscular thighs in order to prevent them from reaching between your legs to touch yourself. You felt his arm reach down until his fingers curled around your neck, allowing him to feel each stroke of his cock down your throat.

“Fuck, baby—such a pretty little whore.”

Finally, finally, he pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva still connecting the tip of his ruddy cock to your swollen lips. You gasped harshly, letting the mixture of tears and drool drip from your chin as you gazed up and him with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Marc, thank you, I love you, I—”

Marc growled, his grip on your throat tightening and briefly cutting off your airflow.

“Shut. Up.”

He hissed, pulling you upwards with his hand on your neck and tossing you towards the bed. You fell backwards, immediately pliant beneath him as he reached to lift both of your ankles above your head before abruptly plunging his spit-soaked cock into your dripping folds.

A pornographic mewl escaped you at the feeling of him penetrating you, your hole still tight and unprepared for the thickness of his cock. The burn of the stretch was intoxicating, but you were quickly pulled away from the feeling when Marc’s fingers found your jaw again, squeezing your cheeks so your lips involuntarily parted.

“Open.”

He growled, and you obliged, allowing him to spit straight into your awaiting mouth. You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he kept railing into you, your mouth closing as his taste overwhelmed you.

“You don’t swallow until I tell you—you hear me?”

You nodded vigorously, eyes silently pleading as tears continued to stream down your face, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as Marc bared his teeth.

“Yeah, that outta wash his name outta your filthy fuckin’ mouth, huh?”

You could barely hear him over the static humming in your ears, an orgasm creeping up and washing over you without warning. You choked on your sob, desperately following Marc’s orders and keeping your mouth full of his saliva despite your desperation to cry out.

Marc felt you clench down on him, and his pace quickened.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby—you cum all over this cock.”

He leaned forward and sank his teeth into the flesh of your collarbone, licking and sucking bruises into your neck and up your throat. You lay helpless beneath him, body melting into the mattress as he continued to pound into you relentlessly, the sting of his lips hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

“Gonna keep you covered in these, baby—he’s never gonna forget who you fuckin’ belong to.”

He grunted in your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth briefly before sitting back up, shifting up onto his knees and wrapping your legs around his waist before jackhammering into you once again.

He reached forward a final time to wrap his hand around your throat, now covered with red and purple bruises in the shape of his mouth.

“Swallow.”

He panted, his eyes wild and pace faltering.

"Swallow, and tell me who you belong to.”

You swallowed the fluid the had gathered across your tongue and finally let out a salacious moan, back arching off the bed as a second orgasm began building in your abdomen. You could hardly even remember what had started this thing in the first place, and you definitely didn’t care—your entire existence was overwhelmed with Marc, Marc, Marc.

"You, Marc—belong to you."

You cried, and you felt his fingers curl into your neck as he leaned over you, the heat of his body absolutely smothering you as his free hand reached between you to circle your clit. You keened.

“Again. Louder. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Marc—fuck, fuck, Marc, I belong to you, fuck—"

Your climax peaked fiercely, white hot and blinding as your toes curled and your entire body trembled beneath him. The rhythmic clenching of your tight cunt around him had Marc following close behind, his release punctuated by a sharp yelp before he buried himself to the hilt, allowing his seed to fill you completely, offering a few more deep thrusts before stilling.

Marc’s tension-laden body immediately collapsed on top of you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as his cock stayed nestled inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his clammy torso, one hand stroking a soothing line down his spine and the other brushing through his hair, your lips planting a soft kiss to his forehead. His frantic exhales were hot against your neck.

“I mean it, Marc. I’m yours.”

You assured in a whisper, and Marc tilted his head up to look at you, his once cold eyes now softened with a familiar gentleness.

“I know, baby.”

He leaned up and pecked you on the lips.

“And now you’ll never forget it.”

You let out an airy giggle, sinking back into the comfortable and familiar weight of his body on yours. After a few moments, you bit your lip and gave him a mischievous smile.

“So...when do I get to meet Jake?”

#jake lockley #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marc spector imagine #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #projectionistwrites

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thebrothel · 3 months ago

Note

Heyyyy❤️ I’m here for the sleepover and I hope I’m not late😅 I don’t know what I’m asking for, anything honestly, but I’ve been thinking a lot about my man Nightwalks and his friendship with baby Vamp. I love their bromance so much and I’m definitely not opposed to be in that sandwich. So what if my car breaks down and it’s raining and I happen to walk to the brothel to ask for help and Nws and Vamp take me to their room to warm me up and Vamp is sweet and a little shy and Nws is 🥵🫠😵‍💫 asdfghjkl ya know, does his thing (this scenario brought me comfort when I was sick the last time🥹) I’m not even asking for smut. Just anything about these two will make me happy❤️😍

Love y’all and love you, Toxy💖💖💖

men of the night

After blowing out your tire, you pull into a sprawling, wooded estate. It's a foggy evening, and you get quite a scare. But your luck turns around when a mysterious man carries you to safety.

STARRING: vampire!Joel x f!reader x night walks!joel

LENGTH: 3.6k words

CONTENT: 18+ comfort, smut, minor injury, blood

NOTES: Love you, kate! I'm so happy these two bring you comfort. Ty ALL for your patience and support. Hope y'all enjoy this one. I do. 🩷

Your phone has been dead for a while by the time your tire pops. As your car hobbles along, you have no choice but to turn into the first driveway you see. Two big, steel gates are sitting open enough for you to pull in. Just after dusk, a dense fog has settled over the area.

What is this place?

You drive slowly, looking for signs of life. Someone you can ask for help, or at least to use their phone.

The road is winding. There are woods, lots of woods. When the tread falls off your tire completely, you’re still in a remote part of the complex, but you have no choice but to pull over.

It starts raining.

You get out your tire-changing supplies and you’re taking the spare tire out of your trunk when an imposing figure appears in your peripheral vision. You stare at the tire and freeze. Your heart races. You’d know that figure anywhere. That stance. But it must be your imagination. Michael Myers isn’t stalking around some remote old estate waiting for a victim to blow out their tire. It’s probably the property owner. . . or groundskeeper. Huge groundskeeper. By the time you find the courage to look in the hulking figure’s direction, he’s gone. You exhale in relief, but then–are you hearing things, or are there footsteps receding into the forest?

You need a minute. Deep breaths.

Several deep breaths. Eyes closed.

Then, back to the task at hand.

You start using the tire jack and a sharp corner slices a hot line across the heel of your palm. “Shit,” you whisper.

You’re staring at your hand when a gentle voice some distance behind you calls, “Hey, You okay?” You jump and gasp, and he says, “Didn’t mean to scare ya, sorry.”

You look over to see the silhouette of a man in a cape approaching. As his form pushes through the fog, you can see it’s not a cape, it’s a cardigan. He has the face of a kind professor. “Lost?” he asks, and his nose twitches. You stand up to face him, and his eyes fall on your bleeding hand. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters then yanks his eyes back to your face. He swallows and takes a handkerchief out of his cardigan then steps forward and hands it to you. “Here,” he whispers, then backs up and turns away to offer you a private moment, putting his hands back in his pockets.

You thank him.

His adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, then he inhales through his nose and tilts his head up to the sky and mutters “Jesus.” He takes a deep breath through his mouth and composes himself, then forces a chuckle as he looks at you again. “All good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Sorry, I’m Vahh....” his voice trails off as he realizes how strange this situation must be for you already, without knowing his condition. “Vam. You can call me Vam,” he decides.

"Vam," you repeat, then share your name in return.

Your face is overcome with horror, but not at him. You're looking just over his shoulder, toward the woods. He turns to see what you’re looking at–who you’re looking at–Michael Myers, towering in a faded navy jumpsuit, mask and all.

“Mike,” Vamp acknowledges the enormous slasher, then turns back to you to explain, “He prob’ly just wants to help.”

You swallow and your eyes gaze over. You’re still staring over Vamp’s shoulder when Michael lifts up a big wrench. Your eyelashes flutter and your knees buckle under you.

“Oh, sweetheart-” Vamp lunges forward and catches you in his arms as you lose consciousness. “Oh boy,” he mutters to himself.

Michael is still standing there.

Vamp tells him, “Yeah–I’ll uh–you take care’a that, I’ll take care’a her.”

Michael gives a single slow nod, then goes to the stripped tire, tools in tow. Vamp holds you securely with one muscular arm, then the other, as he takes his cardigan off and wraps it around you. “There ya go,” he whispers to you in your sleep, then scoops you up. “I’ve got ya, sweetheart.”

It's not a short walk, and vamp does his best to ignore the beautiful scent wafting from your hand. He passes the front of the mansion and no one notices, they're all watching tv together. Something exciting. A couple of them are bickering. Others are glued to the screen. For a moment, vamp wonders if he's missing a watch party, but he's far more intrigued by you.

As the road winds around back and vamp nears the joel mansion’s basement, you wake up in his arms.

He feels your body tense as you lift your head up and ask, “Where am I?”

“My buddy's place, he’s a real good guy, we’ll get ya dry, and warm, get ya back to your car….”

He seems to carry you effortlessly. You can hardly take your eyes away from his face. He’s handsome and familiar. His eyes nearly glow. Is he real? Is any of this? You wrap your hands around his neck to get a better look. He presses his lips together and gives you a shy look, holding you, a stranger, in a bridal carry with his handkerchief wrapped around your sliced hand and his cardigan wrapped around your body. Your hair has gotten misty in the fog and drizzle, and so has his.

“Who are you?” you ask.

He exhales through pursed lips before answering, "I'm Vam, remember?”

Your eyelashes flutter heavily again.

“Hey, you’re okay, sweetheart” he reassures you. “You’re okay.”

In lieu of knocking at the basement door, Joel taps it with his boot a few times. “N-dub,” he whispers, not wanting to disturb you.

As the door opens, a man is saying, “No more edibles, man. You gotta…” but his voice trails off when he sees you in Vamp’s arms, wrapped up in the cardigan. He’s speechless. He steps out of the way.

He’s handsome, too. You’re in a daze, but god, he's good looking, and he's got this vibe, you can tell that much. He has a joint behind his ear and his eyes are slightly glassy. The place smells of weed with a hint of patchouli and shaving cream.

“Shit, man. Where’d you take her from?” the basement owner asks.

“SHH!” Vamp responds. “I didn’t take her. She was stranded in the rain.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer for yourself.

“Michael scared her,” Vamp explains.

“Well shit, guess we’ve all been there,” the man with the vibe says and closes the door behind you.

You feel strangely at ease in the basement. It feels familiar, like a place you’ve been in your dreams or fantasies, but hadn’t fully visualized. At the same time, it feels foreign, like it’s a familiar place in a strange location. A little darker, maybe. A little off. But still, the strong sense that you belong somehow.

Vamp sets you down in an easy chair and they both stand there looking at you, then each other.

The pothead steps forward and squats next to the chair to have a better look. He gently nudges your chin to look toward him, and keeps his hand there. His eyes soften and he bites half his bottom lip as he admires your features, then says, “Well, god damn. . .” Then, as his hand leaves your face, his forearm brushes the cardigan and he feels the light misting of rain on it. “Let’s get you dry,” he offers, and nudges the cardigan open.

Hunger overtakes his face as he catches a glimpse of your body in your rain-soaked clothes. He doesn’t bother averting his eyes from your tits until you accidentally cough.

Vamp reacts, “we gotta hurry, she's getting sick,” and goes to check the closet. “Where are all your clothes?” he asks his best friend.

“Laundry day,” the basement dweller answers. “Shit.”

You ask, “You got a robe or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” he retreats to his bathroom.

Vamp takes the opportunity to discreetly tell you, “Hey, I think he’s kinda into you. So if he makes you uncomfortable at all…”

“I can handle it,” you smile, and you get butterflies at the thought. “What’d you call him? Indub?” you ask.

Vamp chuckles. “That's just his initials. It's Night walks,” vamp answers.

“First name ‘knight’?”

“No you say it like one word, nightwalks.”

“Nightwalks and Vam, huh?”

Vamp nods, then asks, “You want a bath to warm up?”

“Uhhh… I am kinda chilly, yeah”

He calls over to the bathroom, “Hey nightwalks? Draw her a bath while you’re in there.”

“Do what to the bath?” night walks laughs at the old fashioned term.

“Run a bath, man. C’mon.”

The water starts, and night walks emerges holding a silk, leopard print robe. He lets it hang over his muscular shoulder as he kneels to take your shoes and socks off.

Vamp leaves to attend to the bath.

You giggle and flinch as your second sock is pulled off.

“Ticklish?” Night walks smiles, eyebrows up.

You shrug demurely.

He prowls up the lazy chair hovering over you, then kinda hugs you, hooking one strong arm under your back. “Let’s get you outta this,” he murmurs.

You stand, and he helps for balance to make sure you’re not too dizzy.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, and he lets you stand on your own two feet.

He nudges the cardigan off your shoulders and it falls behind you. His eyes scan your body then meet your eyes again. You rub your lips together trying not to flirt with him, but there’s a cheeky sparkle behind your eyes. There’s something darker but equally charming behind his.

And there’s a calming energy that seems to waft from him to you. Comfort and desire is thick in the air.

He begins to take your clothes off, slow and intimate as if he doesn’t know how to do it any other way. His warm hands glide over your hips and up your sides as he lifts your thin, wet shirt.

He lets you keep on the undershirt for now. Not that it makes much of a difference.

He stares at your tits, nipples blazing through the damp, thin undershirt. No bra.

“Freeballin’,” he nods in approval. “My kinda’ girl.”

You can’t help but giggle at that.

He adjusts himself, making your loins buzz, then he kneels to unbutton your jeans. As he takes down the zipper, your face heats up as you remember the panties you’re wearing - they’re printed with a she-devil whose tail points down to your cunt.

“Oohh,” He coos nearly under his breath, “We got a bad girl here.”

You cringe at yourself and mutter, “oh, god,”

He looks up and doesn’t laugh. “My kinda girl,” he repeats, locking eyes with yours.

As he takes your pants down, his hands glide down and around your hips and linger on your ass for a squeeze. “God damn,” he whispers.

Once your pants are off, for the first time, he notices the bloody handkerchief in your hand. It had been tighter in the clutches of your fist before.

“Oh, shit,” he comments. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little cut,” you answer and glance at it to check. “It's fine, it stopped bleeding.”

He takes the handkerchief from you and discards it on the chair. He inspects your palm. “I dunno if I got any first aid shit,” he mutters to himself.

“It’s fine, really,” you reassure him. He holds your hand, inspecting your palm, then looks at your face again. His eyes fall on your mouth and he seems to forget what he was thinking about. He wets his lips. “God damn, you’re hot,” he murmurs.

“Thanks,” you whisper, thinking the same about him.

He laces his fingers with yours as he steps even closer, then he brings his hands to your waist.

Your head tilts upward, watching him look back and forth between your eyes.

He leans in and your lips meet.

There’s a spark, more of a spark than you’ve ever felt, and he must feel it, too. He slips his tongue into your mouth as his hand meanders and grabs your ass. “Mm,” he hums into your mouth. You put your arms around his neck and he pulls you against him. A warm bulge throbs against you, making you moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to murmur, “There’s my bad girl,” then he kisses you again and crosses his hands behind your back to take off your undershirt.

He takes a long, deep breath as he looks at your tits, then urgently pulls you up against him again, one hand cradling your head as he feeds you his tongue

He grinds against you as you kiss, and your fingers lift the back of his shirt. He takes it off, breathing heavily, then says, “c’mere, baby.” His lips attack your neck as his thumbs hook into your panties and pull them down below your ass cheeks. He gives you a little spank then groans into your neck.

Fuck, he's hot.

His palm slides down your crack and between your legs until his middle finger can feel your dripping hole. “Hell yeah,” he breathes against your neck as he reaches further. Then he breaks away from your neck and wedges his other hand in between the two of you to finger you from the front. The hand in the back palms a cheek, fingers spanning quite a distance on your skin.

He rubs you from the front and you moan. “Yeah, that's right, sugar.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly upward as he touches you, letting himself get absorbed entirely by the feeling of you in his hands.

You're hypnotized by the veins on his neck and the rhythm of his fingers through your slick.

The way he touches you, it’s like he knows exactly what you like. And his hands, they feel so…

“Oh, daddy,” the word slips from your lips and he replies, “Mmm,” and looks down to observe your face of pleasure. He grinds himself against your hip as he fingers you just the way you like. Like he'd done it dozens of times before - to you.

“Yeah, cum for daddy,” he breathes then nudges your forehead with his nose, prompting you to lift your chin for his lips to take yours again.

He moans into your mouth, the shape of his cock stiff against your hip through his PJs, his hand between your legs, and one on your ass.

As his fingers push you over the edge, you break away to moan, then stifle it in his bare shoulder, gently biting.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “fuck yeah.”

You cum in the palm of his hand, and he moans.

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “fuck.”

He shudders and groans, then his hard-on throbs against you and a warm, wet spot spreads through his PJ pants.

“Damn,” he mutters.

A short sigh comes from behind you.

“Hey “ Night walks greets vamp matter of factly as he catches his breath. He looks vamp up and down and vamp casually covers his crotch, prompting a smirk from night walks.

Vamp clears his throat, “Bath’s ready.”

“Thanks,” night walks says. “Now I need one too,” he chuckles, then turns his attention back to you. “You’re real damn hot, you know that?”

He kisses you gently on the mouth then says, “finish this later,” with a wink. He pulls your soaked panties from your thighs down to your feet and helps you into the silk robe.

You make your way into the bathroom and Vamp lingers in the living room with night walks. Never judging, he’s simply raising his eyebrows in a question - how did that happen?

“Just happened, man,” night walks says, then squints. “She familiar to you?”

“Uh, YEAH,” vamp agrees. “Smells familiar.”

Night walks sucks his slick fingers and says, "Tastes familiar."

“Nice bathroom,” you announce, and both men file into the room to see if you need anything. “Never seen a bathtub this big,” you add, stretching out your arms, tits on display.

Night walks takes the opportunity to ask, “Want some company?”

“Sure,” you smile, and he takes down his pj pants.

“Room for three?” night walks asks on behalf of his buddy.

“Yeah,” you agree.

Night walks asks, “You wanna be sandwiched or wanna look at his pretty face?” He can’t let vamp sit behind you. Too much neck access.

“I’ll take the extra body heat,” you answer with a flash of your eyebrows.

Night walks gets in the bath behind you and settles his legs outside yours. You can feel all of him against your back. He sneaks in a squeeze of both tits as vamp prepares to get in front of you.

Vamp is a solidly built man. Not in a distinctly muscular way. A little softer than night walks, but he’s just so broad. His back flexes as he gets into the tub and rests back on you. His hair smells nice. And your tits feel amazing against his back.

Sandwiched between them, you feel their breathing. You just sit and feel it for you don’t know how long. Your breathing synchronizes. All three of you.

You’re almost lulled asleep--maybe you even are asleep-- until vamp gasps softly.

You look down to see a faint red plume coming from your hand.

“Oh, crap,” you react.

“He can take care’a it,” Night walks murmurs, sounding half asleep. “He’s got ya.”

“How?” you ask.

“Kiss it better, man,” night walks encourages, then sighs with how comfortable he is with you nestled between his legs, laid back on his chest. He gets a waft of your hair and sighs, “Mm.”

“You gonna kiss it better?” you ask vamp with a giggle.

“Sure, I can if ya want,” he offers and holds your wrist. He plants a kiss on the lower end of your wound, letting his lips linger long enough to inhale as much of your scent his nostrils can get.

It’s not just a kiss. To the naked eye, it’s just a kiss, but it feels like more. It feels like healing. It feels almost like...pleasure. He takes his lips away and the part he kissed is no longer bleeding.

“Whoa,” you whisper.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Night walks mutters over your ear.

“You want more?” vamp asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. No brainer.

Night walks takes your un-injured hand around to vamp’s abdomen and rests it on vamp’s thick, semi-hard, uncut cock. The shape under your hand sends a pang of desire down your spine and between your legs.

“might lose a little blood,” vamp warns. “But not much.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses your wound again, starting at the top and sliding his lips all the way down it. Then he shifts his lips a bit, and something smooth begins to slowly trace the cut as his lips slide back up the wound. You feel a suction along the cut, and at the same time, his cock stiffens under your palm. You reflexively palm his shaft, holding it against his stomach.

The suction in your palm feels good. Your nipples harden and a rush of pleasure shoots down your chest, then lower.

“Oh, god,” you whisper.

When he reaches the top of the cut, his lips break away with a moan, as you continue to massage him. “More?” he asks breathily.

You nod, “please.”

He repeats the process, ever so slowly, twice. . .and you go from massaging his cock to pumping it, until he’s coming against his stomach underwater, moaning into your hand.

When night walks slips his hand between you and vamp, you realize your hips have been moving, seeking pressure. Night walks finishes you off, and God, you cum hard.

Night walks’s dick is hard against your back, and you’d love to do something for him, but you’re utterly spent. Your palm looks good as new, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Vamp twists his torso to look back and check in on you. He idly tongues his sharp incisor.

You look at him, eyelashes fluttering and say, “You’re….” He closes his lips and swallows, and he looks away, expecting you to say that word he doesn’t like. But you don’t. . . “Special,” you say, making his heart swell.

“You too,” he whispers as your eyelids fall shut.

Your head lulls back against night walks and he asks vamp, “she okay?”

“Yeah,” vamp answers. “Most people can’t process that kind of pleasure their first time.”

“That’s why she’s passed out? God damn,” night walks says. “We’re the dream team, buddy.”

“Let’s get her to bed,” Vamp says.

—-

“This is all good, right?” vamp asks night walks as they get you situated nude in the bed. All three of you are dried off.

“Yeah, bud,” night walks reassures vamp in a whisper. “We’ve got a duty to act.”

“That’s doctors,” vamp replies, then lowers his whisper more. “Not….men of the night.”

“Shhh,” night walks replies. "we gotta keep her warm."

You stir and let out a sigh. Vamp is wearing silky shorts and night walks is in fresh boxer briefs.

They settle in on either side of you. After a minute, vamp whispers, “hey, n-dub?”

“Yeah?”

“Is she really familiar to you?”

“Yeah,” night walks answers unequivocally.

“Me too,” vamp agrees. “I think she–”

“Let’s talk about it later,” night walks whispers.

“Yeah,” vamp agrees.

“Get some sleep, man,” night walks encourages.

Vamp starts to respond, “I…” then doesn’t bother. “Yeah.”

“Oh. Sorry, bud.”

“It’s okay,” vamp says, then asks, “but hey, if I go in my restful state, will you rouse me if you're gonna fuck her?”

“I think you'll be ‘roused,” night walks chuckles. “But sure, buddy.”

Vamp gets up on his elbow, then hovers over your face. strokes your cheek and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams,” he whispers.

---

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I sincerely hope y'all enjoyed this as much as I did 💕. Ty kate for the prompt that kinda led me to write a comfort fic for myself too lol.

Note: in English, "woman of the night" is a tame or old fashioned way of saying female sex worker

#brothel sleepover 💕#vampire!joel #night walks!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#cw daddy kink #nightvamp

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darlingsaturn · 2 years ago

Text

Sidekick / tour guide ! Reader in Star Rail

You know how Paimon is traveller’s guide/emergency food/sidekick/spokesperson/just their bestie? imagine if HST has their own Paimon too!

Reader is their Paimon without her appearance but they still float and behave like Paimon. They make snarky comments, dissing people that is rude to mc, making nicknames for their close friends, and so on.

Reader that follow after mc and is overly friendly to them only. And the other characters just watch in utter envy as the two talk for hours while trash diving.

Reader has weakness when it comes to food. So many characters use it to lure them away into their arms or just bribe them to spend time with them without mc around.

Jing Yuan ‘accidentally’ dropping snack while he walks away. Lmao like anyone would believe him when he made a trail from tasty snacks so reader would follow him.

Reader is a bit an airhead when they’re hungry, okay? Cut them some slack.

Gepard always having little candy on his pocket just incase he runs into the trio+his crush. Him always having to fight the attention of his beloved with his own sister because big sis is 🥵 and he’s worried about his future love life if reader chose big sis.

Blade getting the nickname something along the line of ‘mean jerk guy’ because reader can’t swear for the life of them.

But he secretly likes the stupid nickname, only because it’s from reader and he would always hide his smile with a smirk every time reader called him a nickname.

Okay married couple. Get a room🙄

Dan Heng is tired of reader. But only because they support the trash diving behavior of mc instead of stopping them. Like??? Stop the trailblazer pls???🤨

You know that one scene where Dan Heng was about to kiss— ehem, give MC CPR? Yeah?

Dang Heng and March 8th kiss reader atleast once each before they decide to help mc and reader to wake up fr.

Reader maybe getting hit on and suddenly mc has personal problem with this person.

Mc being the self proclaimed designated bodyguard for their own guide. Like what?? Such a lame excuse to get close to reader. But sure. Whatever you say, simp.

Sampo being absolute menace and reader dissing him under their breath and only the trio could hear them.

Welt being absolute softy and weak when it comes to reader pouty faces whenever they ask for allowance. The trio doesn’t even get daily allowance from him??? The favoritism😪

I love Paimon, pls write about this🥺 i’am on my knees and i’m begging.

#darlingssaturn ‘s writing #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #sorry for the Sampo hate. i’m just bitter about him. sorry #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #dang heng x reader #march 8th x reader #trailblazer #paimon

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johnwickb1tsch · 10 months ago

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Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way. Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem.

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN.

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot! It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline for the first 9 chapters and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣 After that, I'm afraid we can only blame our own unhinged brains for what's here, it got too raunchy for the bot to handle, and this fic never would have become what it is without the help of our little community here, the comments and head canons and brain rot, I love you guys!

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet.

His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music.

“You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well.

Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance.

“And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again.

“Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey.

“I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet.

He would see how long it takes to change that.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items.

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least.

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.”

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger.

The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark.

“Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats.

His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head.

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet.

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that.

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it.

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid.

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch.

He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid.

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything.

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you.

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out.

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub. Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun.

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?"

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before.

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again.

He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard.

"That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?”

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.”

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?”

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well.

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you.

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work.

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why.

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him.

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.”

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately.

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh.

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you.

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea.

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.”

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable.

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun.

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work.

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.”

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house.

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

all chapters

#donaka mark #donaka mark x reader #donaka mark x you #donaka mark x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #julias deranged donaka x housekeeper fic

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kathlare · 5 months ago

Text

echoes of the past

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie is at the Mexican Grand Prix, a race that has always been a source of excitement for her. However, today, the energy is mixed with dread as she knows she’ll have to face Lando again after their unresolved past.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

October 29th, 2023 - Mexico City, Mexico

liked by amelieupdate, ln4nation, and others

ameliedaymanupdates: Day ✌️ at the Mexican GP! Amelie arrived at the paddock this morning looking stunning as always 🏁✨ Race day energy is unmatched—let’s see if she brings some extra good luck to Checo! 👀🔥

View all 697 comments

f1fanatic: Amelie really said paddock queen two days in a row 😭✨ → amelielover22: @f1fanatic as she should, the paddock missed her energy 💅

mclarenstans: Not Lando avoiding her like it’s 2020 vibes all over again 💀 → paddock_gossip: @mclarenstans LMFAO stop, he probably panicked when he saw her 😭

gpqueen23: The fact that she’s effortlessly slaying every look while I’d be melting in that Mexico heat 🥵

teamlando: Imagine if she and Lando crossed paths today 😳 The internet would literally collapse. → gpdrama_: @teamlando Twitter would implode, I’m ready with my popcorn 👀 → dayman4life: @gpdrama_ pls someone make it happen, the drama we deserve!

ameliefanpage: Okay but imagine if she and Lando actually interacted today 👀 → landostan16: @ameliefanpage pls we’ve been starving since like… 2021 😭 let them be friends again, universe!! 🙏 → alexlover44: @landostan16 fr, they were literally the chaotic duo we didn’t deserve.

daymandelight: Everyone talking about Lando but can we focus on how much of a SERVE Amelie’s outfit is?! She didn’t come to play 🔥

landoismylife: Not me still crying over her and Lando’s “friendship breakup.” Like, y’all are ADULTS, make up already pls 🙃 → amelieandlando: @landoismylife they probably got tired of us shipping them too hard lmao 😭 our bad

--------------

The paddock was alive with the hum of excitement. Amelie had always felt the energy of the Mexican Grand Prix—after all, it was her home race, a celebration that brought the entire family together. But today, there was a twist to that familiar excitement, a sense of dread that sat in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to be here, not really. It wasn’t the race, nor the excitement of the weekend, but the inevitable.

She would have to see him. Lando.

The thought made her stomach turn, her palms feel clammy despite the heat of the midday sun. She hadn’t been able to escape the images of him on the screens throughout the paddock—his face, those eyes, the wild mop of curls—but seeing him in person again after almost a year... that was something entirely different.

She and Lando had been close once. Too close. She could still feel the lingering warmth of his touch, his breath on her neck, and the way he had always made her feel like she was the only person in the room. Their messy situation, a relationship that never quite was and yet had never been truly over, had been the backdrop of her life for so long. The late-night texts, the whispers of things unspoken, and the undeniable chemistry that had made everything more complicated.

And then it ended—quietly, unexpectedly, without closure. One day, it was just... gone.

The memories from their time together felt like a haze. In the years since they stopped talking, Amelie had tried to convince herself that it didn’t matter, that it wasn’t a big deal. But deep down, she knew it had been. Lando had been the one person who truly understood her during one of the most chaotic periods of her life. When everything else was spinning out of control, they had shared something that felt real. But like everything else in her life, it was fleeting. Just like the fading glow of a shooting star.

Her eyes scanned the paddock, trying to find a distraction, a way to get through the day without encountering him. But no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept returning to the same thoughts.

Amelie pushed the thoughts of Lando out of her mind as best as she could. She had been doing this for months now, pretending that she didn’t care, that she hadn’t been a mess when they stopped talking. But she couldn’t fool herself anymore, especially not now, standing in the middle of the paddock, surrounded by the excitement of the weekend.

—Amelie!— Charles called, his voice cutting through her tangled thoughts. He waved enthusiastically, drawing her attention.

She smiled, trying to appear relaxed, despite the storm of emotions brewing inside her. —Hey, Charles,— she said, walking over to him.

He grinned, clearly happy to see her. —I see you’re surviving the madness,— he teased.

—Just about,— she replied, forcing herself to sound casual. —It’s hard to avoid the chaos with everyone and their cameras here.—

Charles chuckled, then gestured toward a woman standing next to him. —I’d like you to meet Alexandra. She’s from Mexico too, actually.—

Amelie turned her attention to the woman beside him. Alexandra had a soft, radiant smile that made her feel instantly at ease. She was beautiful, but in a way that wasn’t intimidating. Her long black hair flowed effortlessly, and she wore a warm, elegant smile that reminded Amelie of home.

—Hi, it’s so nice to meet you!— Alexandra said, her accent hinting at her upbringing in Monaco, though she clearly had Mexican roots.

Amelie returned the smile, feeling an unexpected surge of familiarity. —It’s great to meet you too,— she replied, her voice a little softer than she intended. —I’m sure Charles has already told you how crazy this weekend is.—

The two women shared a laugh, and the conversation flowed easily. For a moment, it felt like everything might be fine. Amelie pushed the thought of Lando further back in her mind, trying to enjoy the rare sense of calm that came with talking to someone new. But then, something shifted in the air. She felt it before she even saw him. That familiar weight.

Amelie’s heart stuttered in her chest.

Lando.

She didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. She could feel his presence as clearly as if he’d just walked into the room. The energy in the paddock had shifted, and Amelie’s gaze was immediately drawn to the spot where he stood.

He was standing by one of the team garages, his hands resting casually in the pockets of his McLaren jacket. He looked... different, somehow. The last time she had seen him, he had been more carefree, his eyes always scanning for a laugh. Now, his posture seemed a little more guarded, as if he was bracing himself for something. His gaze swept across the crowd, briefly catching her eyes.

Amelie froze.

Time seemed to stretch as their gazes locked. She couldn’t breathe. It was like everything had stopped, the world around them blurring into the background.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, he looked away.

Amelie’s pulse pounded in her ears, and she fought to steady her breathing. Her chest felt tight, her throat constricting as the years of unresolved tension came crashing back. That moment—those few seconds, had unlocked everything she had been trying so hard to suppress.

A flood of memories rushed in those late-night conversations, the laughter, the way he had looked at her in those fleeting moments when they both pretended they were just friends. The moments they shared when neither of them was brave enough to admit how they felt.

But the past wasn’t a comforting place. It was messy. Hurtful.

And she had spent so long telling herself she was over it. That it didn’t matter anymore.

But here he was again, right in front of her. And it felt like a betrayal.

Why the hell did I even come here?

Her mind raced as she quickly turned to Alexandra, her heart hammering in her chest.

—Hey, uh... I’ll be right back,— she blurted, her words feeling foreign on her tongue. —I need to... find my sister.—

Charles and Alexandra exchanged curious glances, but Amelie was already walking away, her footsteps quick and shaky. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she needed to get away from him, away from all the feelings that had come rushing back.

Her eyes scanned the paddock frantically, her heart sinking as she saw the faces of people she knew—George, Alex, Carlos, and others, all talking and laughing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her. But none of them were Stella.

Stella.

The thought of her sister grounded Amelie, and she pushed through the crowd, searching desperately. She needed Stella’s calm, her steadiness, her ability to make everything feel just a little bit less chaotic.

Finally, she spotted her sister and Checo near the Red Bull hospitality. Amelie’s steps faltered as she approached, her body trembling with anxiety.

—Stella!— she called, her voice a little too loud, a little too sharp.

Stella looked up, her expression immediately softening as she saw the panic in Amelie’s eyes. —Amelie, hey, are you okay?—

Amelie felt a rush of relief wash over her. She didn’t care that they were in the middle of the paddock with people all around them. She just needed her sister right now.

—I... I saw him,— she whispered, her voice tight. —I saw Lando. And it was... it was like I couldn’t breathe. I can’t... I don’t know what to do, Stella.—

Stella’s face softened with understanding. She reached out, pulling Amelie into a tight hug.

—Take a deep breath,— Stella murmured. —You don’t have to face this alone. We’re here for you, always.—

Amelie squeezed her eyes shut, letting her sister’s embrace steady her. She was here. She was safe.

But as she pulled back, her gaze flickered across the paddock once again.

And for just a moment, she swore she saw Lando watching her from across the way, his eyes full of something she couldn’t quite place.

Her heart skipped again. And just like that, the past was back, haunting her every step.

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