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cheapshrimpysheep · 4 months ago

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Yuutsum 2

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other? Ortho's part is platonic as always.

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tsumsitters (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 2 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

Azul's part is different from the one I wrote for the request. At the time the event had not yet reached the English server, if I'm not mistaken.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 3 (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 2 event, this takes place after the events of the first Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it's the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

You were with your Tsum in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm, and it wouldn't leave the window as if it was waiting for something. You ask if it wants to go somewhere, but it shakes its head and continues looking out the window.

A short time later you heard a loud bang at the front door as if something had been thrown at it, and your Tsum finally leaves the window and hops towards the door. Even before you open the door, you can hear Ace laughing and Deuce complaining.

When you open it, you find Deuce struggling to contain his Tsum who is trying to break free from his arms.

“Sorry (Y/N).” Deuce apologizes “I can't contain this guy. It started running... or hopping, like crazy when it realized we were going to pass by here.”

Your Tsum makes that cute tsum noise to get the attention of Deuce and his tsum. The two look down and their eyes light up as they see your Tsum. Deuce’s tsum breaks free from Deuce's arms and lands right next to your Tsum. And the two tsums begin to rub their little faces and noses against each other. Deuce blushes automatically.

Ace, who watched the whole scene, stopped laughing and was now looking at the tsums with a sulky face. “Oi? What's up now with this guy?” he questions.

“I-I-I don't know.” It's the only thing Deuce can say in response.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ace continues. “Your Tsum came back? Why? Our housewarden's didn't. Neither did Cater's.”

You say you don't know.

“Maybe your tsum is dragged into everyone's messes too.” Deuce says, smiling. “Not even it has a break with us, hum?”

Your Tsum headbutts Deuce's Tsum to get its attention, taps one of its little hands on the ground 5 times and Deuce's Tsum realizes the urgency of something. The two tsums start hopping towards the gate.

“OI! WHERE ARE YOU GOING NOW?” Deuce shouted.

The three of you run after the Tsums, but they reach the Hall of Mirrors first and go through the mirror to Heartslabyul.

“Well, on the one hand they saved us work.” Ace says.

“Yes, but they are on the loose!” Deuce replies.

You go through the mirror, run a little further and stop abruptly when you come across Riddle and Trey. Your tsums were close to their feet and were still very close to each other.

“See? They arrived on time.” Trey says. “They must have just had a little mishap with the tsums. Right?”

Ace and Deuce confirm. Riddle welcomes you and invites you to the Unbirthday Party that will be happening soon. He also tells Ace and Deuce to go do their party preparation duties. After he and Trey leave, Deuce realizes what happened.

“I get it now. Your tsum was telling mine the time, and warning it that we were going to be late.”

“Damn, even your Tsum needs two Tsumsitters.” Ace laughs. And Deuce-tsum hits him.

When it was preparing to hit him a second time, your Tsum got in the way and started rubbing its face against Deuce-tsum’s, calming it down.

“See my point?” Ace adds, and this time it's your Tsum that hits him.

You were walking through the school hallways, with your Tsum in your arms, when you crossed paths with Floyd. He automatically smiled when he saw your Tsum.

You ask each other what the other is doing there and Floyd tells you that he was playing a board game with Azul and his Tsum. He says that he left them playing with each other in the classroom. You feel your Tsum move excitedly in your arms.

After saying goodbye to each other you go to the classroom where Floyd said they were. You knock on the door and pop your head inside. You see both Azul and his Tsum immersed in the game, but not enough to not notice your presence.

“Oh, good afternoon (Y/N).” Azul greets you with a smile. His Tsum quickly looks towards the door when it hears him say your name. “Please come in.” You do so. “Is there anything you need or-” He sees your Tsum and widens his eyes with a sparkle in them.

Azul-tsum makes that happy tsum sound, jumps to the floor, stops for a second, jumps back onto the table to make its move on the board game, and then gets off the table again to hop happily towards you. Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands on the ground. And when Azul-tsum finally reaches yours the two begin to cuddle with each other.

Azul was focused on the game and only after making his play “Okay tsum, your tu-” did he look at the two tsums, and blushes slightly. He clears his throat loudly causing his tsum to look at him.

Azul’s tsum turns to yours and makes another cute sound, then the two of them hop back to the table. Azul's tsum returns to its place on the other side of the board, but yours jumps into Azul's arms to his surprise. He managed to catch it, then it looked at him and smiled with its eyes, making Azul stare at it in wonder.

“I'll concede that you are indeed charmingly cute.” He then whispers to himself: “As much as the person you resemble.”

You approach to sit with them and Azul suggests that you sit next to his tsum. The two Azuls exchange a suspicious look with each other.

They keep playing. When it's not Azul's turn, your tsum makes little sounds or something that makes him look at it. And when it's not Azul-tsum's turn, it seems to be undecided between paying attention to the board or looking at you so you can pet it. In the end, the two were practically tied, but Azul-tsum makes a play that makes it win the game. Both his tsum and your tsum celebrate, coming back to cuddle with each other.

“Ah, so that was your real move.” Azul said with a smirk. “You used (Y/N)'s tsum to distract me. Actually no, worse than that, you two are partners in crime.”

The two tsums looked smugly at Azul. But he didn't seem upset despite having lost. In fact, he seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the tsums. You ask what's wrong or if he's okay.

“Oh, don't worry, it's nothing. I was just thinking...” He looks back at the tsums who look back at him with an encouraging look. Both of them. “From what I've been able to observe, tsums have a lot in common with the person they resemble, especially their personality. After seeing how these two work together I was just wondering...” He looks at you and smiles confidently. “Wouldn't you happen to have the same interest as your tsum in being my partner too? Hum... partner in crime, I mean.”

You were walking through the Main street with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a little thing hopping towards you. It stops right in front of you, at your feet, and smiles at you with its eyes, making that cute tsum sound, as if it were greeting you politely. From the side where the dark grey strand is facing and from the calm demeanor, you can tell it's Jade's tsum.

Your tsum makes the cute tsum sound back to Jade-tsum and you let your tsum jump to the ground for the two to rub their faces against each other.

After that, you hear footsteps approaching you. Looking ahead you see Jade. His tsum looks at him and then jumps into your arms smiling at you with its cute little eyes. When Jade gets close to you he laughs.

“He he. You are quite cunning indeed, tsum. Or should I just say coward at this point?” He was still smiling, but with that look that was worryingly difficult to decode. Then he looks at you. “Forgive me for not greeting you first, (Y/N). I got... worried about the tsum when I lost sight of it. I'm genuinely relieved that you were the one to find it safe and sound.” He looks down at your tsum. “Aw, what a lovely sight, your sweet tsum is back.”

You feel Jade-tsum tense up in your arms, but it barely moves. Jade bends down and holds out his cupped hands for your tsum to jump into them. You feel Jade-tsum once again tense slightly, but without moving. Jade raises your tsum in front of his face. It smiles at him innocently.

“Undoubtedly adorable.” Jade says. “But you shouldn't just jump into anyone's hands like that.” He lowers his hands to chest height, holds the tsum with one hand while, with the other, he makes a claw-like movement as if he were going to imprison it. “It could be dangerous.” He looks at his own tsum in your arms, who still doesn't move.

“But it didn't just jump into anyone's hands.” You say. He looks at you meeting your eyes. “However you're right, it can be very dangerous. But you should have told that to YOUR tsum.”

Both Jade and his Tsum are surprised by what you said. And suddenly you tighten your hug around Jade-tsum as if you were Floyd squeezing someone. But in this case, you are squeezing the tsum with love and affection. It waves its little arms and legs as if it were asking for help, but not trying very hard to escape.

Jade laughs delightedly, and frees your tsum from his clutches, taking it to his chest just to pet it affectionately. He looks at that little angel face face that knew he wouldn't hurt you or your tsum and smiles.

“In fact, you are a danger on the loose.” He jokes. “Tell me, would the both of you like to accompany me and my little lookalike to Mostro Lounge? We came here for a stroll around campus because I thought it would be a nice bonding exercise. But I’m sure that something like sharing a smoothie, for example, could also be great for bonding.”

You look happy with the idea of going with them to Mostro Lounge. But in the meantime you realize that tsums don't have mouths. How could they share a drink?

“Oh, well, perhaps I wasn't referring to the tsums.” He smiles at you with that bold confidence.

Kalim, his tsum and Jamil took a magic carpet tour of campus. Kalim-tsum’s eyes were sparkling the whole time during it, but something must have piqued its interest because after that it disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were with your tsum in the Ramshackle Dorm lounge when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it to find... no one. Until you hear that happy tsum sound near your feet. You look down and see a Kalim-tsum smiling at you with its eyes.

As soon as you say hello, it wastes no time in jumping on your shoulder and brushing its face against your cheek. You hear another tsum sound behind you. You turn around and Kalim-tsum sees your tsum. Kalim-tsum makes another happy sound and jumps off your shoulder to hug your tsum. Or at least that's what it looked like despite its short arms.

If that tsum was there without Kalim, most likely he was looking for it. And consequently Jamil too. Therefore, you decide to take the two tsums in your arms and go find Kalim.

Just as you predicted, you found Kalim and Jamil together on Main Street. When Kalim sees you from afar, he happily waves his arms in the air to call you to join them.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you. “I'm so glad I found you! I really wanted you to meet-” He looks at the two little creatures you carry in your arms when you get close to him. “AH! You found it! You're amazing!”

Jamil sighs with relief. And then they both realize what, or rather, who, the other little creature is. Kalim's eyes shine and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“It can't be! There's one like you too! It's so cute! Aw, I want to hug it so much! Can I? Can I? Pretty pleeease~?”

If you’re more outgoing, your tsum will smile with its eyes at him. If you are more shy, your tsum will be too flattered and hide its face in your arms. Which will make Kalim find it even cuter.

“I know they may look like plushies,” Jamil says “but I don’t think you should treat them like one.”

“Don't worry, I won't hurt it.” Kalim says both to Jamil and to you.

“I'm also worried about the other way around. If that is even possible.”

“What? No way!” Kalim stretches out his arms welcomingly for your tsum to jump into them. And it does. He turns to Jamil. “You don't really think this adorable little thing would hurt anyone, do you?”

Jamil looks at your tsum, who smiles at him with its eyes and he blushes slightly to the point of having to look away. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“And I am a great judge of character.” Kalim completed confidently. He brings your tsum close to his face to see it better. “Oh, if you were bigger I could hug you for real.”

This gives your tsum an idea and suddenly it starts to grow, which takes everyone by surprise, until it stops at the size of a pillow. Kalim has no other way to hold it other than hugging it and that's what he does. He hugs it tight like it's the most adorable thing on earth and he never wants to let it go.

And apparently, Kalim's tsum wants the same treatment, but from you, so it also grows to the size of a pillow for you to hug it.

Jamil looks at you all slightly uncomfortably and can only say: “If you ever do that to each other, at least get a room first.”

It was already late in the afternoon. You were walking across campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard a "CUT!". You have heard that a few other times before, it was Vil's voice and he must have been filming something for the film club.

Your tsum moves in your arms as if it was also curious to see what he was doing. You follow the sound and walk until you reach the Main Street.

“Rehearsal is over.” You hear Vil say and you stop. “Now we must capture this scene before the sun sets. Focus!”

That sounded like your cue not to interrupt him. You weren't at a place where you could appear in the frame, so you just wait there, watching, just like your tsum. However, someone else was watching the scene as well, hidden in the bushes.

“Now the real fun begins.” Rook says, both to his tsum and to Epel, that he dragged it with him. “Let us watch Vil and the rest of the club shine!”

Rook's tsum hops eagerly and the two observe Vil, until something else catches the tsum's attention and it looks to the side. Rook notices this.

“You changed the target of your attention, monsieur tsum. What could have possible divert your gaze from Vil?” He follows the tsum's gaze and finds you, standing there watching Vil. “Bien sûr, there could only be one reason.” He sees your Tsum in your arms. “Oh, marvelous! Tricster's tsum is back! Even more beauty to behold.”

Everything goes smoothly until the end of the recordings. And it is only when Vil sees you and greets you that you approach him. His attention (and everyone's actually) goes to your tsum.

“I see you've also been assigned as a tsumsitter.” Vil says. “I heard it had shown up the first time this happened, but I ended up not having the pleasure of meeting it. I'm glad I got this chance.” He smiles at your tsum who looks at him in wonder. “One also appeared in Pomefiore. A Rook lookalike.”

You feel your tsum spasm in your arms, and then you hear something jumping towards you. You turn around and a wild Rook-tsum appears and greets you with that happy tsum sound.

Your tsum jumps to the ground and lets Rook-tsum approach it first. It jumps to get closer to your tsum but, to everyone's surprise, your tsum dodges and runs away.

You panic a little, your tsum had never done that until now, and Rook-tsum goes jumping after your tsum, even though it has already lost sight of it. You are about to start running to look for them when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are startled by Rook's sudden appearance.

“Worry not, trickster. I have been following monsieur tsum and it has been an enriching experience. You could accompany me and we can observe them together. There is no place they can go that I won't find them.” he winks.

You go with Rook following your tsums. You notice that every now and then your tsum stops as if provoking Rook-tsum and when it is about to catch your tsum, it dodges again and continues running away.

“How fascinating.” Rook laughs “Tell me, doesn't it look like they're playing with each other?”

You continue following the tsums to the botanical garden, already in the early evening. Where they finally stop. Or rather, where your tsum finally lets itself be caught, in the subtropical zone. You see Rook-tsum clinging to your tsum and making a movement with its head as if were kissing your tsum passionately.

“I wonder...” Rook says “If this is all some kind of mating ritual for the tsums.” he laughs seeing your reaction. “What's wrong, trickster? That look is not from someone who dislikes the idea~ Is there anything your heart would like to share? Because any question you have about mine can be answered by looking at monsieur tsum.”

You were walking through campus with your Tsum in your arms when you heard something above you.

“PREFECT!” You hear Ortho's voice shout from somewhere. “LOOK OUT!”

You see an unidentified flying object coming towards you at high speed. Your instinct is to cower and duck. But the object stopped before it hit you and landed on the ground in front of you. You look and see an Ortho-tsum. Ortho approaches you.

“He he he. Did we scare you? Sorry. Are you OK?” He asks. You answer that you are. “I’m glad. We just wanted to surprise you. Have you already heard of these little creatures called tsums, (Y/N)?”

You stand up, revealing your tsum that had been hidden in your arms when you ducked. Both Ortho and his tsum are happy to see your tsum.

“OH! One like you also appeared! So cool!”

Ortho-tsum uses its new device to fly towards your tsum, who got surprised by it. Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and gestures for Ortho-tsum to come closer to it.

Ortho-tsum lands near your tsum again and it starts walking around ortho-tsum as if it is examining the new device suspiciously. The tsum make sounds as if they were chatting.

“I don't know what they're saying...” Ortho laughs. “But from the tone and what they're doing, it seems like your tsum is worried about my tsum's new antigravity device. The audio of the noises I'm capturing sounds similar to a scene from a movie I have stored in my memory, where an older sister is saying things like 'Where did you get that?', ‘Are you sure it's safe?’, ‘You could get hurt.’ Ha ha ha.”

After this conversation between the tsums, Ortho's tsum flies for a second, lands again and makes an inviting sound for your tsum. It jumps on Ortho-tsum's back and the two slowly and carefully take flight.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum. Will you play with us too (Y/N)? Pretty Please?”

If you feel safe with Ortho, he will take you flying on his back. If you're scared he'll say: “It's okay, I understand. We can play close to the ground. We don't need to go up to the clouds to have fun together."

After walking around campus you decided to stop to rest on one of the benches in the Courtyard. You sit down and your tsum stays on your lap. A few seconds later, when you thought you could rest a little, something falls into your lap and on top of your tsum, startling you both.

After enjoying your reactions, the new tsum jumps next to you on the bench and turns to face you. It's a Lilia's tsum.

“Yay! Your tsum is back!” A voice behind you startles you and your tsum again, making it jump from your lap to Lilia-tsum's side.

Your tsum starts making sounds like it's complaining, but Lilia-tsum starts rubbing its face against your tsum to calm it down.

“Khee hee hee. Sorry.” Lilia says upside down, floating next to you. “You were trying to rest, weren't you?” He gestured for the tsums to move away so he could sit next to you.

They jump into your lap, where they get so close that it looks more like they're snuggling in a nest.

“I know it may not seem like it, but my tsum was getting tired too. But neither it nor I could resist surprising you and your tsum. Isn't it as charming and cute as me?”

You look at the tsums in your lap who seemed to be cuddled up sleeping. You joke that Tsum can be cuter.

“Ow, you're just saying that because of the plush shape it has. But looking at you and your tsum, I understand what you mean. Your tsum is also cuter than you.” He sees you pout slightly, and smiles mischievously. “Khee hee hee. Looks like someone didn't like being hit with their own spell.”

Lilia-tsum wakes up from its short nap and jumps to the ground, waking up your tsum as well. Lilia-tsum makes an inviting happy sound to your tsum, who also jumps off your lap to join it.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum now.”

You and Lilia follow your tsums to see what they will do. They prank a student. He was distracted reading a magazine when Lilia-tsum makes a sound that catches his attention. He looks, sees Lilia's tsum, rubs his eyes, looks again, and sees Lilia's and yours tsums. He rubs his eyes again, looks again and only sees your tsum. He gets up startled, looks the other way, looks back to where the tsum were and there is nothing there anymore. You hear him walking away wondering if he's going crazy or hallucinating.

You and Lilia laugh. And then Lilia has another idea for a prank.

The four of you go to the library and find two students chatting at a table. One of them is telling the other that he had seen Lilia transform into a small, round creature in front of him. The other wondered if it was some shapeshifting spell or some prank of Lilia's. Lilia-tsum hopped over to them.

“SEE?! HERE! This was the creature I saw Lilia transform into!”

You appear and greet the students. Lilia-tsum jumps into your arms in front of them and Lilia casts a light spell that temporarily blinds them, long enough for your tsum to take your place. When the students look again, they find two tsums.

“AHH! It's not a spell, it's some curse!” the other student says. “If any of them touch us, we become one of them too!”

Your two tsums walk slowly but menacingly towards them, and the students run away. Lilia bursts out laughing.

“This must have been the best one yet. Don't you also think it's funny when two big boys run away in fear from a cute little thing?”

The two tsums return to you. Lilia-tsum looks tired.

“We don't have that much stamina at this age, do we?” Lilia says smiling. He holds out his arms for his tsum to jump into them, but it doesn't. “Um? You don't want me to carry you?”

Lilia-tsum walks up to your tsum and cuddles with it.

“Oho, I see. In that case...” Lilia takes his blazer off his shoulders and ties the ends together as if making a hammock. “Okay you little lovebirds, here's a nest for you.” The two tsums jump in and snuggle together. “In fact, there is one thing cuter than our separate tsums: them together.” He looks at you, but the cute smile turns into a mischievous one when he sees your face. “What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't think they would make a pretty couple. That would break my heart.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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talaok · 7 months ago

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Win Again

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x sex worker f!reader

Summary: Marcus has won yet another match, so to reward him, his master has granted him another hour with you.

warning: smut| unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), a whole lot of manhandling, he like uses your body idk how to explain it, multiple orgasms, and once again unnecessary feelings cause im not able to write something where they just fuck for some reason

a/n: i know im two days late but PLEASE read this still. (also) basic things for this guy that i've decided are canon: 1)he has a monster cock, like actually scarily big, 2) he's real fucking strong (hulk typa shit), 3) he's not a big talker (but he is a grunter). I need this man to fuck me more than i need my next breath (real), also i did so much research for this fic and you cant even fucking tell

It wasn't often that you didn't dread going to the barracks.

These were strong, ferocious, and dangerous men, and you were but a meek lamb in comparison.

But today was different, today you were seeing him, him who fit the previous description to a tee, and yet was so different from any man you had ever offered your services to.

And perhaps it was because it never felt like you were ever offering anything, ever since that first night, you had never given anything you hadn't wanted to.

The guards stopped as you arrived at his room and you felt a wave of excitement crawl up your spine the moment they opened the door, waiting for you to enter.

The armored men stepped aside to let you pass, the cobblestones on the ground sounding against your sandals as you made your way inside, looking back at the door just in time to see it being shut close.

It was his breathing you heard first, his heavy breathing coming from where you knew his bed sat on the room's left, and seconds after, the creaks of the wood as he stood up, his feet stalking your way.

You turned to him then, a smile almost making it to your lips as you saw him alive before you once again, granting yourself a second to relish in the fact he still breathed, he was still here.

"You've won again" you spoke softly, your hands slowly finding the string holding your dress together.

He didn't respond. The window behind him caused the moon's soft glow to fall on the stone floor, but not on his beautiful face, that, you had to watch closely to inspect.

A newer cut right above his left eyebrow had appeared, and his right arm was bandaged almost completely, but otherwise, he looked fine.

His eyes remained on yours until you'd undone the dress, until it fell at your feet- then, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he took you in, and took his turn inspecting every inch of your bare figure.

"How do you want m-"

You didn't have time to finish your sentence that he'd picked you up, effortlessly pulling your body up until your legs slung over his shoulders and his face was buried in your cunt.

He hadn't even given you a second to realize what was happening that his tongue was already lapping between your folds, desperately drinking everything your body gave him.

"Oh my g-" you threw your head back, your skull finding the wall behind you being the only reason you realized he'd moved, and you were now caged between him and stone as you forgot how to speak.

The moans you had faked so many times for so many clients were nothing like the ones your mouth was spilling now, these were higher, coarser, feral, and the way you were gripping his hair... there was no way that didn't hurt.

"Y-You only" a whine interrupted your words when you felt his tongue plunge into your hole, when he started fucking you with it just like he would with his cock "You only h-have me for an hour" you breathed, your thighs squeezing tighter around him contradicting the words you were about to speak "d-don't you want me to p-please you?"

His grip on your ass only tightened and his mouth halfheartedly parted from your core to answer you.

"You are"

And just like that, he'd gone back to work. The moment his mouth closed around your clit you knew you were done for, you knew there was no point in fighting what was inevitably going to come, and so you shut your eyes, as he brought you to heaven.

Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nouse, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.

"F-fuck- general I-" The fist you had wrapped around his hair tightened as every muscle in your belly did the same "Oh!"

Somehow, through all the chaos, while you were coming all over his face, while your moans reached levels never reached before, the only thing you could feel or hear, besides pure ecstasy of course, were his groans, his groans as he drank up every drop of your juices, as if your orgasm was bringing his as much pleasure as it was to you.

You barely had time to open your eyes that his strong, big hands and even stronger, bigger arms had pulled you down until your legs hugged his waist instead.

You really did weigh nothing for him, and if that wasn't enough to prove it, the next minutes definitely would.

Your heavy breathing was fanning over his mouth as he freed his cock from his pants, but while you were expecting him to kiss you, having been blatantly staring at your mouth since he had any way of seeing it, every thought in your brain turned to dust when with one hard fucking thrust, he drove his cock into you- or the first few inches at least.

You couldn't talk, you could do nothing but throw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of it, and let him take whatever he wanted to take.

"I'm not a general anymore," he said with another thrust, stretching you out even further, even deeper.

You wanted to laugh at his words. Now? Now he was feeling the need to correct you? When you could barely breathe, let alone think?

But he didn't look interested in hearing a response from you, not when he grabbed your waist, and definitely not when he started moving you up and down on his shaft with just the sheer force of his muscles.

The moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.

"Oh my god" you whimpered, feeling tears prick your eyes as your toes curled at the feeling.

You could feel him everywhere, everywhere.

But he didn't pause, he wasn't one to take his time, and perhaps that was because he didn't have much; he resumed his movements again, retracting his hips while he pulled you up his cock, and slamming into you while pushing you down on it, leaving you breathless, a simple doll at his mercy.

His groans and growls were deep and filled with lust, just like the way he bent down to take your left tit into his mouth, just like the way he was fucking you, deep and hard, and God- God it was happening again.

"s-shit" you squeaked, your walls squeezing around him as you bit your lip, so fucked out you could barely remember your name or anything at all that wasn't how good he was making you feel.

"O-Oh my fuck-"

The arms you had intertwined behind his neck tightened with every spasm of your hole, with every flutter of your belly, until you'd come once more.

You opened your eyes, letting them trail downwards, to where his lips parted to suck in ragged breaths, begging him for a kiss.

"again" he said instead, and your eyes widened as you felt him starting to move anew

"I-I can't"

He looked at you now, really looked at you, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and then- then he kissed you. Marcus Acacius kissed you the same way he'd been fucking you for the last hour: like an animal.

It was a mess of teeth and tongues and yet it felt like the best thing on earth, better than wine, better than life, even better than the sex- it was perfect.

"again" he ordered once more, and what could you do, if not comply?

So he started again, he started fucking you again, even more ferociously than the previous time, even if you didn't think it possible.

The way his skin slapped with yours was drowned by both your desperate sounds, your legs started to tremble, beginning to fall from his hips as he moved you up and down his cock like it were nothing, and you- you didn't even know where you were anymore.

"please" you begged, a single tear of pleasure, of overstimulation falling to your cheek as he kissed you again, muting all your cries as he drove himself into you like a madman, like he was possessed.

"Time's up"

Two knocks sounded from the other side of the wall together with the warning, and you thanked Marcus for having rendered you such a mess because otherwise, that would have reminded you of how little time you two ever had, and how miserable everything really was.

His movements sped up at the notice, his dick plunging into you over and over and over until finally, it was happening again.

"give it to me" he said, and you did exactly as he asked- you gave it all to him, screaming and crying you let him have all you had to offer, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

He came loudly just after you, groaning deeply as he filled you up to the very brim.

Out of all the words you could have said to him then, all the things you wanted to tell him at that moment, you chose none, because none would have said anything he didn't already know from the look in your eyes, from the same exact spark in your irises that ignited his own.

So he helped you to the ground until you stood on shaky legs, walked to where your dress lay on the floor, and dressed yourself again, his eyes never leaving you.

The door opened just as you were done, and you turned to him one last time again, a smile pulling at your lips.

"Win again for me, general"

He looked at you too for one last time again, as he thought about how you didn't know, you didn't know how big of a role you played in his victories, how many times he could only think of the taste of you, smell of you, feel and voice of you as he took his opponent's life, as he fought for another hour with you, another second.

"I will" he promised

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ipushhimback · 20 days ago

Text

we were drunk, it happens part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: none? words: 2.2k

summary: lando and Y/N meet at a dinner with other drivers. they were drunk and landed in bed but what happens when her brother max finds out

there will probably be a part 2 bc i have many ideas!

this is my first f1 x reader fanfic i have ever written so please be kind

Y/N has never really liked Formula 1 which surprised everyone she told that as she was no one other than Max Verstappen’s little sister. She of course knew the basics and has watched some of the Grands Prix, but she has never enjoyed being there.

But one Friday evening that changed. Her brother had told her that he had been invited to a dinner with some other drivers, and they were allowed to bring a +1 and because Kelly wasn’t in Monaco that week, he asked Y/N to come with him.

At first, she was reluctant but eventually she agreed. But now she was standing in front of her mirror and wasn’t sure what to wear. What clothes do people wear when they are at a dinner with literal multimillionaires? An hour (and a long call with Kelly) later she was dressed in a simple black dress with a split on the right side, her curled hair falling over her shoulders perfectly.

She felt a bit weird as she stepped down the stairs to her kitchen where she drank a glass of water while waiting for her brother to pick her up, as she had a feeling that she would be absolutely underdressed at the dinner.

Only a few minutes later she heard the doorbell and opened the door to find Max standing in front of her in dark blue jeans and a white button-up shirt.

“Hey, are you ready?”, he asked as he pulled her in a quick hug.

“No. Not really but let’s go. How many people are gonna be at the dinner?” Y/N was a bit worried as she hated to be around too many people – rich and arrogant people in particular as she had experienced that enough when she was still a kid, and her dad had always invited other rich people to their home.

“I only know that Charles will be there, and he will probably bring his girlfriend, Alex. I am sure you’ll like her. Also, Lando is probably going to be there as well as Carlos and his girlfriend Rebecca. George is also going to be there and that means his girlfriend will be there as well, Carmen. And probably the other drivers will be there as well, but I am not sure because George has planned it all.” Max paused to look at his little sister. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point we can just go. But I am sure you will get along just fine with everyone.”

Y/N just nodded as she sat down in the passenger seat of Max’ car. An Audi RS Q3 he always said was perfect for everyday tasks but Y/N knew he mostly had that car so he could easily drive around with his whole family. Kelly, Penelope and their future baby. Even though nobody knew about the pregnancy yet, not even their parents as Max and Kelly wanted to keep that to themselves for as long as possible.

Only a few minutes later they arrived at a nice and expensive looking restaurant where they stopped in the parking lot.

They stepped in the building where they were greeted by a waitress almost immediately. He brought them to a separated room where some people were already sitting around a big table.

“Hi guys. This is Y/N, my sister. She was kind enough to join me today. Y/N, you already know Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar? And there is the back we have Lewis, Checo, Yuki, Pierre, Fernando and Franco”, Max introduced her while his sister tried to continue smiling even though she just wants to be at home and watch on of her favorite tv shows.

“Yes, I do. It is really nice to meet y’all. Where can I sit?”, she asked as she didn’t want to be standing there being stared at by everyone.

A young woman pointed to the chair right next to hers and opposite three other women, who looked just as good. “You can sit here. I am Lily by the way. Oscar’s girlfriend. And that’s Alex, Charles’ girlfriend and Rebecca. She is Carlos’ girlfriend. And there we have Carmen who is here with George. So, you are Max’ sister?”

Y/N was a bit taken aback by the kindness of Lily. She didn’t think that anyone of the WAGs would be like that. She thought they would be more arrogant. More… reserved. Like she used to know them. But Lily and also the others seemed different.

“Uhm… Yeah, I am. He brought me here because Kelly’s abroad.” Y/N took a sip of the glass of water that was placed in front of her by one of the waitresses.

“Oh, that’s sad I was looking forward to finally meeting her, but it is nice that you are here! Max talks about you a lot. It feels like he loves you more than he loves Kelly”, Alex said laughing.

“That’s because he does,” Y/N said and was scared that the others wouldn’t get her little joke when they didn’t react but sighed relived when they started laughing.

They continued chatting a bit, but Y/N just had eyes for one person in the room. Lando. She had seen him before. Of course. But now that she saw him up closer, she couldn’t help but admire his looks. His curls were a nice brown color and couldn’t curl more. His eyes were a pretty blue that looked even better with him wearing this blue hoodie right now.

When Lando looked in her direction, she immediately looked away and grabbed her wine glass. No feelings for arrogant multimillionaires. She didn’t want, nor did she need that in her life.

***

The next morning Y/N woke up with the worst headache existing.

She opened her eyes and regretted it right away when the bright sunlight blended her.

She definitely made a big mistake drinking so much alcohol the day before.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed something warm next to her. A body. Not anyone’s body, she realized when she looked to the right. Lando.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This can’t be real.

But no. This wasn’t a dream, she quickly noticed when she wanted to get up and couldn’t find her clothes from the day before.

She got up and went to her closet in the exact moment she heard the doorbell ring. Now she remembered why she even woke up in the first place.

Y/N took a hoodie and sweatpants which she put on quickly before going downstairs to open the door.

“Hey! Wow, you look even worse than yesterday when you left”, Max said, only a second after Y/N had opened the door.

“Thanks”, she groaned. “What are you even doing here so early?”

“It is 1 pm. And I wanted to give you your purse. You forgot it in the car yesterday. Now, are you gonna offer your big brother a coffee as a thank you?”, Max asked and before Y/N could stop him he pushed her to the side and went straight to her kitchen.

“That’s not a good idea. I wanted to take a shower and then I have an appointment at- “, she couldn’t even finish the sentence when she heard her bedroom door open and heard footsteps on the stairs.

Only seconds later, Lando stepped in the kitchen, his hair tousled and only wearing his boxer briefs.

“Hey, Y/N do you- “, he immediately stopped when he spotted Max leaning on the counter. “Oh fuck.”

He immediately turned around and ran upstairs, figuring out that the following conversation shouldn’t happen with him just in his underwear.

“Lando! You fucking bastard. You slept with my sister?!” Max pushed himself off the counter to run after the Brit while Y/N just stood there, unable to react. And honestly, she didn’t even want to react. If she had the choice she would just go outside and hide somewhere to not be involved in the situation, but she knew that wouldn’t really work longer than a couple hours, so she could also just get it over with now.

“Max! Stop! Let Lando at least get dressed so he doesn’t have to talk to you about all that in just his underwear.”

“He fucking slept with you! I don’t care if he is wearing anything! Lando let me in you can’t lock yourself in the bedroom forever!”

Knowing she can’t convince Max to go downstairs she made her way upstairs.

“Max. Go downstairs and calm down. We were drunk. I also made the decision yesterday to sleep with him. So go downstairs, while Lando gets dressed, make a cup of coffee and wait.” Y/N glared at her brother, and it finally seemed to convince him.

“Fine. But you will both come to me immediately after he got dressed.” Reluctantly, the Dutch made his way to do what Y/N told him to do.

When Max was gone Y/N knocked at the wooden door.

“Lando. It’s me. Let me in.” Only a moment later, the Brit opened the door and peeked outside.

“Is he gone?”, he practically whispered.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how scared he looked. “Yes, he is. Now let me in because we have to talk about what we say to make sure Max doesn’t insult you even more.”

“How about we don’t say anything and just hide in here? I am scared of him, Y/N. I can’t go out there again. He will kill me because I slept with you! His little sister!”

“Lando. You know we can’t do that. We will go out there and tell him that we were drunk, and it won’t happen again. It was a one-time thing, and that’s- “, Y/N wanted to say more but was interrupted by Lando.

“What if it wasn’t.” The woman just stared at Lando for a couple seconds, suddenly frozen in place.

“Sorry?”

“What if- what if I want to do it again? Listen. We had fun together, didn’t we? So why don’t we continue with it? No feelings, of course. Max would kill us. Just fun.”

Y/N took her time to proceed what Lando had just said. They did, in fact, have fun. But it didn’t change the fact that it was stupid. But she couldn’t help it. She did like last night. It was one of the best nights of her life.

Lando had known exactly what to do. He touched her in all the right places, he was demanding yet gentle. Rough but soft. It was everything. It was almost intoxicating how he touched her – made her feel seen. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right. But then, what do we tell my brother?”

“Either the truth or we lie and say it won’t happen again. He doesn’t necessarily have to find out, does he? I am for the second option. Less of a risk to be killed, you know? But I think we should just see where the conversation takes us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Ok”, she nodded. “Then let’s do that.”

Together they went downstairs. Max’ face was as red as a tomato since he was still mad at Lando. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that Lando wasn’t the only guilty one. His sister also decided to sleep with Lando, but it was easier to be mad at a colleague – even – than his little, innocent (or so he had thought) sister.

“So. Anyone here who wants to explain what happened yesterday?”, Max asked with an annoyed, maybe even hurt, look on his face.

“Max. I promise nothing bad has happened. Lando and I, we were drunk. It happens. I am 22 years old. I am pretty sure you know that what happened yesterday, has happened before. Just with other people. So, please. Don’t be mad at Lando for what happened. It was my decision as much as it was his.”

Y/N felt Lando standing next to her. He looked at Max calmly, trying to deescalate a potential argument, by just not saying anything. The Brit knew it was the smartest thing he could do in the moment.

“I know that it is normal what happened. But, Y/N, you also have to understand my point of view. He is a colleague. A rival of mine. And to be honest, he is not known for being the guy for long term relationships. I simply don’t want you to get hurt. And definitely not that you will have a broken heart because of him.” Max looked seriously concerned, protective.

“I won’t, Max. I promise. And even if he did break my heart, I would tell you right away so you can kill him on your own as soon as possible.”

The blonde man laughs while nodding. He stepped forward and wrapped Y/N up in his arms.

“Ok. I just want you to be happy. Do whatever you want just don’t tell me about it”, he mumbles in his sister’s hair before releasing her from his hug and turning around.

“I will go now. See you. Bye!”

Lando and Y/N flopped on the couch after saying their goodbyes and just a single minute later, Lando’s phone made a sound that signaled an incoming message.

If you hurt her, you are dead, just so you know. – Max

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n

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hemmingsleclerc · 8 months ago

Text

Scandal! pt2┃CL16-MV1

part 2!!! is all yours, thank u sm for the love and support for this work

instagram

ynln has posted a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 3,593,639 others

caption: Day at the beach with my favourite people

charles_leclerc has respond to your story!

can we talk? send 1 hour ago

maxverstappen1

Liked by victoriaverstappen, ynln and others

maxverstappen1 fun day

username yn and him being on the beach....on the same day..

username ugh stfu they're not dating

username max with his sister and mom 🥺

username so cute!

f1_gossip

Liked by 592,285 others

f1_gossip This afternoon Y/N uploaded a story to her Instagram account in which only she appeared on the beach, but her mother uploaded a video to her stories this afternoon where you could see Y/N, Max and Y/N's little sister, relaxing in the water. But Max uploaded a post where his family was seen right there, letting us understand that both families went out for a little getaway! Could it be that both drivers are in some type of relationship? What do you think?

username let them enjoy in peace!!

username omg they're so cute

username wait what?! omg

twitter

instagram

Liked by 863,672 others

f1 Our favourite paddock couples in today's race!

username well, charles is jumping of joy

username leclerc's a little happy there isn’t he

username all couples happy and together and then there's charles and aurora walking one meter away from each other

redbullracing

Liked by 749,193 others

redbullracing Imo 👉LAAAAAAAA 🎶 yn and max have arrived!

username yn and lewis=best dressed of the grid

username someone looks happy after spending a whole day on the beach 👀

cha_yn

Liked by 829,573 others

cha_yn the fact that I thought these two were gonna get married kills me

username does anyone know why they broke up?

username They never clarified anything but it was all very sudden tbh, but some say that there were rumors of infidelity on his part.

username wait, I thought it was bc things weren't working out but they never stopped loving each other, but I really don't know why just a month later he was seen with Aurora

username I smell a PR relationship from the ferrari team

username holy shit I never thought about that! It really doesn't seem like Charles is happy to be around his ''girlfriend''....

username I'm a child of a divorce

username I will never forget when Y/N won a race and Charles ran out of his car to go congratulate her and it was the first time we saw them kiss in public.

Liked by 1,384,694 others

f1 Red Flag 🚩

Charles Leclerc crashes into Max Verstappen on lap 15 ending the race for both drivers

username 💀💀

username It was clearly seen how leclerc threw the car at max

username THE BEEF BETWEEN THESE TWO TF

f1_gossip

Liked by 946,284 others

f1_gossip OH MY GOD! After the accident between the Ferrari and the Red Bull, a completely angry Max went to look for Leclerc and fans captured the moment when Max started pushing and yelling at Charles. Was all this simply because of the race or something else?

The FIA is still investigating the accident but in the meantime, who do you think was at fault?

username charles for sure

username idk man but I think verstappen

username LECLERC IT WAS SO OBVIOUS

username Max always ruins a driver's race, it's nothing new tbh

username Call me crazy but could it be that Charles was angry to see that Max and Yn were together on the beach yesterday? Now I'm gonna shut up

username WAIT

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,355,124 others

f1 YN LN WINS THE GRAND PRIX!! THIS IS HER FIFTH CONSECUTIVE VICTORY AND THE FIRST TIME IN HISTORY THAT A FEMALE DRIVER ACHIEVED THIS

username She shut up all those men who said she was going to last two races at most.

username I love women being successful

maxverstappen1 👏👏

ynupdates

Liked by ynln and 284,483 others

ynupdates Max congratulating yn for her win today!! They're so cute

username the fact she liked the post 🥺🫶🏻

username he's so green flag

username He didn't walk, he ran to congratulate her

twitter

instagram

f1_gossip

Liked by 947,538 others

f1_gossip oh, my. It's official, charles and aurora both unfollowed each other, please let's make a toast

charles_leclerc has posted a story!

seen by maxverstappen1, ynln, and 5,483,694 others

Messages

ynln

Liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,895,548 others

ynln yeah my bf's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me

jk he's cool asf, he’s a 3 times wc 🤭

maxverstappen1 hell yes I am

maxverstappen1 I love u my love😍

username I FUCKING KNEW IT

username damn that's a hot ass couple I see

username MAX CAN YOU FIGHT!??!!?

maxverstappen1 yes I can, and I already have for that woman

username: oh yeah right, with leclerc, I forgot, my bad💀

comments have been limited for this post

okey so I did my best, I'm sorry if u don't like it :( but! I'm happy if u did. As you voted Max was the endgame for this so yeah!

taglist

@ilivbullyingjeongin @piceous21 @humongouscatfest

@callsignwidow @barcelonaloverf1life @happyyaay

@leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @raizelchrysanderoctavius

@toldyouitwasamelodrama @jaydaaasworld @love-simon

@annesunlight @forevercaffeinated-lee @gabys-gabs

@spookystitchery @marvelfangirl04 @acutely-autistic @under-seasoned-pasta

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edwardslvrr · 8 months ago

Text

ADOPTION AND LEGOS 𐙚 oscar piastri

౨ৎ oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar is dating the ferrari driver's younger sister and they have been soft launching for a while until they decide to hard launch when the adoption joke enters f1

taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо

main masterlist 𐙚 oscar masterlist

౨ৎ yourinstagram paris, france

liked by arthur_leclerc and 308.893 others

yourinstagram lovely day out in my favourite city with my favourite person 💘💐

view all 1.893 comments

username everyday i sigh when i see this is not a hard launch

username just so y’all know when she hard launches i’ve been here since the beginning

username atp never expecting her to hard launch

username don’t you dare manifest that!

yourbestfriend hey dan, i mean bonjour!

yourinstagram you mean au revoir. goodbye humphrey we’re leaving!

username when he takes you to paris >

username hope dude knows he’s the luckiest man ever living

username wish this was my life fr

౨ৎ oscarpiastri twitter

౨ৎ messages oscar/yn

౨ৎ f1 no location

liked by formula2 and 1.482.891 others

f1 A suprise at the top in first practice! 🇲🇨

view all 6.183 comments

oscarpiastri that happened quickly, charles_leclerc

username i just wanna know if you’ve met your brother leo

username u gotta change your name now, what’s done is done

username help the leclerc name on oscar 😭

username “piastri-leclerc” adoption rumours confirmed!!

username this is too funny

username “f1 is a serious sport” than what’s this?

username they’re the definition of unserious

username dude really got adopted

౨ৎ oscarbbg twitter

౨ৎ oscarpiastri monte-carlo, monaco

liked by yourinstagram and 838.793 others

oscarpiastri P2, adoption and legos. I’s say this was a pretty good weekend

view all 4.189 comments

username leclerc 1-2

username still wondering who man’s gf is

username huge day for the leclerc family

username homerace podium 🇲🇨

username oscar jack piastri-leclerc has arrived

౨ৎ oscahnorris twitter

౨ৎ messages charles/yn

౨ৎ yourinstagram no location

liked by oscarpiastri and 398.893 others

yourinstagram just so yk he’s been a leclerc now for 3 years

view all 2.891 comments

username omg- no this is crazy what

landonorris oscyn hard launch before gta6🙏

yourinstagram as we should

username TWO years???

username should’ve known during the prema interview w arthur & oscar ohmygod “who in the room would you kiss” MF WAS SMIRKING😭

username omg yes i forgot abt that!!

arthur_leclerc i’m just great at secret keeping ;)

username arthur whattt

username she’s defo been stressing after the adoption thing😭

username my parents

username I SAID IT AND NO ONE BELIEVED ME

oscarpiastri 3 years down and forever to go😍

landonorris what a simp

yourinstagram landonorris ur just lonely oscarpiastri ily!!

charles_leclerc since when is he lightning mcqueen???

yourinstagram 🙄🙄

౨ৎ oscarpiastri no location

liked by charles_leclerc and 972.781 others

oscarpiastri 3 years of lego dates with you ❤️

view all 4.792 comments

username the hard launch we all have been waiting for

yourinstagram another lego date tonight?

oscarpiastri on my way home immediately

username you two are adorable oml

username this might’ve just been the news of the century

charles_leclerc does that mean i have to officially rip the adoption papers

oscarpiastri yeah sorry mate, it was nice while it lasted

taglist - @louvrepool @italyrryx @buendiabebeta @lightdragonrayne @namgification @sammyam @americanbluebirdrb @poppyflower-22 @c-losur3 @nxrrislando @haikyuen @evie-119 @raevyng @urfavsgf @nikfigueiredo

#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #mclaren #oscar piastri #oscar piastri masterlist #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri 81 #oscar piastri x reader #charles leclerc #ferrari

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lanf1an · 18 days ago

Text

SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt.1 - january 5 2025 The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.

hope people will find this, made a sideblog for this, havent used tumblr in a while, feel free to send any suggestions to improve the lay-out/blog etc. Also let me know if you think this chapter is too long. I've already written many parts so will update regularly if people like it.

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8

wordcount: 2322

The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.

You hadn’t seen your twin brother and Pietra in weeks, since they had decided to spent the holidays in Brazil, and you were itching to catch up. You also hadn’t seen the whole Norris family since Abu Dhabi, which had been an absolute blast. You’d meet up with Flo and Cisca regularly in London, having spent Christmas and New Years together, but the whole family being together was a rarity. This year felt extra special, though—it was the first time Dylan was coming along.

Your boyfriend of nearly a year had fit seamlessly into your life back home, and now he was finally meeting the entire crew. Max already got along with him like a house on fire, and you couldn’t wait for him to meet everyone else.

“Stil the same old place. Can’t wait to hit the slopes” Max said looking around with a grin. “You better teach me some sick board tricks this trip Dyl” he continued. “Only if you’re ready to fall on your ass,” Dylan shot back with a laugh. “Careful, Max is competitive,” you teased, they all laughed, Dylan was actually a professional snowboarder, making it that much funnier.

The Fewtrells had arrived at the lodge first, giving you a chance to show Dylan around before everyone else got there. The house was as you remembered—wood-paneled walls, mismatched furniture, and warm fires crackling in every hearth.

“This is where you grew up skiing?” Dylan asked as you led him upstairs, his snowboard bag slung casually over his shoulder.

“Pretty much. Max and I used to share this room—” you pushed open a door, looking at him slyly, excited to share the room with him this time. The room smelled faintly of cedar, its twin beds still adorned with the same plaid comforters you’d had as kids.

“It’s nice,” Dylan said, setting his bag down and pulling you into his arms. “Cozy. Definitely feels like you.”

Before you could reply, his lips brushed yours, a warm and familiar kiss that made your heart flutter as his hands brushed through your hair, leading you towards the bed. Before things could go further, a loud voice broke the moment. “Fewtrell!” Cisca called from downstairs, followed by Flo’s laughter.

You turned, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Let’s go. You’ll love this chaos.”

Downstairs, the Norris family was filing in, luggage and snow-dusted boots piling up in the entryway. Lando appeared last, hauling a duffel bag with one hand and ski equipment in the other.

“Landooo!” you and Max called out in unison, both running to greet him.“Can’t even drop my stuff first?” Lando teased, dropping the bag with an exaggerated groan as you pulled him into a hug.“Ah, our world champion has arrived,” your dad said, stepping forward with a warm smile. “Welcome back, Lando. Well-deserved break, eh?” “Something like that,” Lando said, grinning as he accepted the handshake. “Nothing beats this place, though.”

“Lando, this is Dylan,” you said, gesturing between them. Dylan extended a hand. “Good to finally meet you. She’s told me a lot about you.” “All good things, I hope,” Lando replied with a polite smile, shaking his hand.“Mostly,” Dylan teased, earning a laugh from everyone. Max threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “You’re in for it now, Lando. Dylan’s a beast on the slopes. Red Bull-sponsored and everything.” “Oh, so I’m not the only sponsored athlete here?” Lando said, his tone light but with a playful edge. It was a miracle Max and Lando hadn’t killed each other yet, being as competitive as they are. Dylan grinned. “Guess not. Maybe we should race to see who’s faster.” “Careful what you wish for, even beat Red Bull this year” Lando shot back.

That night, as wine flowed and the parents went to bed early, the kids stayed up playing cards, laughing over inside jokes, and planning the next day’s ski routes.

—

The next morning, you woke to the sound of muffled voices drifting up from the kitchen and the faint smell of coffee brewing. Dylan was still sound asleep, his arm draped over your waist. Careful not to wake him, you slid out of bed, threw on a sweater, and made your way downstairs.

Max and Lando were already up, bundled in their ski gear, arguing over who would get to claim the fastest run of the day.

"Morning," Lando said, looking up from lacing his boots. His grin was warm and easy, the kind of smile that had been the same since he was a kid.

"Morning," you replied, grabbing a mug of coffee and leaning against the counter. "You two sound like you're gearing up for a war, not a ski day."

"It is a war," Max declared dramatically, waving a spatula he’d been using to flip pancakes. "Do you remember the incident of 2016?"

"How could I forget?" you said, laughing. "Lando sulking for hours after you beat his time."

"Exactly. Redemption arc starts today," Lando shot back, a playful glint in his eye.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling. It was moments like these—carefree and full of banter—that reminded you why these trips meant so much.

After breakfast, you, Dylan, and the rest of the group gathered outside, ready to hit the slopes. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the snow pristine under the morning sun. The energy was contagious, with everyone laughing and joking as they strapped into their skis or boards.

You and Lando split from the main group, both opting for skis while the others took their boards, eager to get tips from Dylan.

“Still as bad at snowboarding as you were at 12?” you teased as the two of you rode the lift up the mountain.

“Not everyone can be a prodigy like you,” Lando quipped, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I’d rather stick to what I’m good at—like beating you down this run.”

“You wish,” you shot back, nudging his arm as the lift slowed.

When you reached the top, it was as if no time had passed at all. Skiing with Lando had always been your thing, a tradition as old as the ski trips themselves. You raced down the slope, weaving between trees and laughing like kids again. At the bottom, you both collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning.

“Still got it,” Lando said, brushing snow off his jacket.

“I let you win,” you replied, but your smile gave you away.

“I’ve missed this,” you said, lying back in the snow.

“What, losing to me?” Lando teased, throwing a handful of snow in your direction.

You took a break at a skilodge for drinks, glad it wasn’t crowded, texting the rest of the group to join them if they were close.

“It’s so weird how we haven’t actually caught up properly since Abu Dhabi,” you said, getting comfortable and sipping your drink.

— Abu Dhabi december 8 2024

The club was electric—music pulsing through the air, bodies packed tight, and the sharp tang of spilled drinks mingling with the faint scent of expensive cologne. It was the kind of night where everything felt larger than life, McLaren world championship, even as it blurred at the edges.

Lando wasn’t entirely sure how many drinks he’d had. Enough that the world tilted slightly, enough that his usual sharp instincts were dulled to a pleasant fuzziness. He wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular, just letting himself float with the energy of the room.

That’s when he saw her.

She was by the bar, her hair catching the lights in a way that felt achingly familiar. Without even realizing it, his feet carried him toward her. The closer he got, the more the resemblance struck him.

“Hey” he called softly as he approached.

The girl turned, and for a moment, he was convinced it was her. But then she smiled—wide, flirtatious, not the kind of smile she would have given him—and he blinked, the illusion shattering.

It wasn't her. Not exactly. But the resemblance was uncanny enough to send a strange shiver through him.

Still, they started talking. She was funny in a way that felt effortless, her voice cutting through the pounding bass of the music. It wasn’t long before they moved to the dance floor, their movements fluid, fueled by alcohol and the frenetic energy of the night.

Somewhere in the haze of music and lights, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was brief but intoxicating, her lips soft and eager. For a moment, Lando let himself sink into it, into the rush of the night, the distraction she provided. But something far away tugged at the edge of his drunken consciousness.

“Lando!”

He pulled back sharply, turning to see Max weaving through the crowd toward him. His expression was one of mild exasperation but mostly confusion.

“Mate,” Max said, his voice slightly slurred, though his amusement was clear. He looked from Lando to the girl, then back again, his eyebrows shooting up. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Lando asked, putting his hands up in the air, suddenly self-defensive.

Max gestured at the girl, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you were kissing my sister! She looks like my sister. Like, exactly like my sister. But—” He looked at her again, his grin faltering. “Also not. It’s weird, mate.”

The girl frowned, her arms crossing over her chest. “Okay, rude.”

“No offense,” Max said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You’re gorgeous, but I mean, come on.” He turned to Lando, shaking his head. “How drunk are you right now?”

Lando blinked, his mind scrambling to catch up. He looked at the girl again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Now that Max had pointed it out, the similarities felt too stark, too deliberate, explaining why it had felt weird.

“I wasn’t—” he started, but Max cut him off.

“Relax, mate,” Max said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I get it. Long season, wild night. Just...you know, maybe cool it before you confuse yourself more.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m getting a drink.” She disappeared into the crowd, leaving the two of them standing there.

Max watched her go, then turned back to Lando, his grin softening into something more understanding. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lando said quickly, still in a confused haze.

Max tilted his head, studying him for a moment before shrugging. “Let’s go find my real sister,” he said, steering Lando toward the other side of the club. “She’s way better company than, uh...that.”

Lando didn’t argue, but as they walked, his thoughts remained tangled. Max was right—the resemblance had been unsettling, bothering him for a moment until Max handed him another tequila shot.

—

Lando smirked. “Well, whose fault is that? You disappeared halfway through the after-party. Left me stranded with Max and his endless tequila shots.”

You laughed, holding your drink in both hands. “I didn’t disappear! I was there—you just didn’t see me because you were busy being... you know, Lando.”

“Excuse me,” he said, mock-offended. “What does that mean?”

“It means you were too busy making rounds like the social butterfly you are. Max told me you didn’t even remember half the night.”

Lando groaned, tipping his head back. “That’s fair. I think I blanked out the moment Christian Horner started karaoke.”

You grinned. “See? That’s why I disappeared. I had better things to do, like chatting with some of the Red Bull team.”

“Ah, fraternizing with the enemy,” Lando teased. “You’re lucky Max didn’t disown you.”

“Oh, Max was fine. But you know what?” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “There was this moment… when I was talking to a certain very famous actor.”

“Who?” Lando asked, curious.

Your lips curved into a sly smile. “Not telling. But for just a second, I thought, Wow, if I weren’t with Dylan, this would be my chance.”

Lando froze mid-sip, raising a brow. “Wait, seriously?”

“Totally kidding,” you said quickly, though the grin didn’t falter. “Kind of. I mean, it’s not every day you get hit on by a Hollywood A-lister.”

Lando set his glass down, leaning forward. “Okay, now you have to tell me who it was.”

“Never,” you said, laughing. “I’ll take that secret to my grave. But don’t worry, Dylan has nothing to worry about. Besides, you were the one getting up to trouble that night.”

“Trouble?” he asked innocently.

You gave him a knowing look. “You know, with that girl who looked like me.”

Lando’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Oh, come on. Max won’t let me live that down. And for the record, I wasn’t the one who said she looked like you. He did.”

“Still, Lando,” you said, shaking your head with a teasing smile. “That’s a bit weird, even for you.”

“Hey, I was drunk,” he defended, running a hand through his hair. “And she didn’t look that much like you.”

“She could’ve been my long-lost triplet!”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I wasn’t exactly seeing straight. You can blame Max and his tequila shots for the whole situation.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Fine, fine. But if Max thinks you’re weird, you know it’s bad.”

Lando sighed dramatically. “Remind me why I put up with you again?”

“Because you love me,” you quipped, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, clinking his glass with yours. You settled back into your seats, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence, both of you enjoyed, relaxed, content and tired after skiing.

—

Let me know what you think!!

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blacknailsandheartbreak · 1 year ago

Text

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar zuko #grumpy x sunshine #fluff #smut #imagine zuko #imagine #x reader

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Text

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, smut mndi, chronic pain mention, I always feel like my confessions are awk so sorry if you think this one is too

note for minors: a lot of this chapter is smut, but you can read up until the red line without worrying about it. There's no summary this time because it really is just smut for smut's sake and all the character development happens before it starts, so you won't need it for the plot. There is one vague mention of boners before the red line (sorry it's just for a laugh), but that's it

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

You catch on quickly to what’s happened between Sirius and Remus. What you don’t understand is why they’ve interrupted it to come talk to you. And how you could be wrong twice—do they cancel out if you were truly right the first time?

Clearly, the chemistry you’d felt between Remus and Sirius wasn’t imagined. You’d convinced yourself you must’ve gotten your wires crossed—otherwise why would Remus have kissed you?—but evidently they’ve come to some sort of agreement. Are they here to ask for your permission? Intra-team fornicating: approved.

You’re not sure if you wish they’d waited until they were less hard to pop by.

“Um.” You keep your eyes very intentionally on the boys’ faces. “What’s up?”

Sirius looks almost nervous, skittish even, but Remus’ hand wraps around his to pull him closer to your doorway. Your heart does something funny in your chest.

“Could we talk?” Sirius asks.

“Er…yeah. Of course.” You step aside, letting them into your small room. Remus sits politely on the edge of your bed, giving you deja vu from the night before, while Sirius makes himself comfortable further back. He leans his side into your pillow where it’s propped up on the wall.

“We were talking,” starts Remus, “and I told Sirius about what happened between us.”

Your next breath seems to come slower. Unwillingly, your gaze flits to Sirius, but he looks impassive, only like he might be scrutinizing you in turn. You look back at Remus. “You did?”

“I did,” he says gently. “But it wasn’t—”

“Babe,” Sirius interrupts, “don’t look so freaked. What’s the matter? And why are you still standing there?”

You realize you’re hugging yourself around your middle, standing awkwardly in front of the bed. “I’m not sure it’s meant to hold three people,” you say weakly.

Sirius snorts, whatever nervousness he’d arrived with vanishing. Sirius has always been good this way; he can only ever panic when no one else is, but the second you’re panicking too he’s all ease.

“Don’t be silly.” He pats the space between himself and Remus. It’s as ample as the bed allows, which isn’t saying much. “It’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s your bed.”

You can’t think of a good reason to argue. Something in you calms as you settle in between them, Sirius’ hip touching yours and the warmth of Remus’ body on your other side. It’s familiar, safe.

“Are you upset?” you ask Sirius.

His brows pinch. “Why would I be?”

“Because…” You cringe. “Aren’t you two…?”

“There’s been a lot of confusion, I think,” Remus says kindly. “But when we were talking, we both sort of came to the realization that we fancy each other…and you.”

There’s a dense pause.

“And me?” you echo.

Remus’ lips tilt slightly. “Yes.”

“As in…” You rub your eyes, dumbfounded. “Sorry, I did just wake up.”

Sirius laughs. Remus too, reaching over to rub your knee like he can’t help himself.

“For the record, I didn’t plan any of this,” says Sirius, “but if I had, I’d have done it exactly this way. It’s very gratifying to finally disturb your sleep schedules the way you pricks have been doing to me all these weeks.”

“Oi,” Remus chides teasingly, reaching over you to push at Sirius’ thigh. You marvel at this new easiness between them, now given even newer context. “Anyway, we thought we’d come see if you might be interested.”

“In…you.” You rub your lips together, looking between them and noticing Sirius’ gaze has fallen to your mouth. Unless you’re terribly mistaken and you’ve got it all wrong, this means he fancies you as well. Your partner, your best friend.

The idea isn’t as upsetting as it ought to be.

Do you fancy him too? You’ve never thought about Sirius in that way. You love him, of course, but you’ve never taken the time to parse out if it might be a different sort of love than the kind between friends. And as for the rest—well, who wouldn’t be attracted to Sirius? You’re only human.

“In both of us, yes,” Remus confirms patiently.

“Is that something you’d be into?” Sirius asks.

Your answer leaves you on a breath, thoughtless but true. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Sirius grins.

You nod. You’re suddenly fixated by the way his cupid’s bow flattens out when he smiles like that. It’s something you’ve noticed a thousand times before, but now…

“Yeah,” you say again. “Um…what do we do?”

Remus chuckles. “I don’t really know. I’ve not been with two people before.”

“Believe it or not, this is a first for me as well,” Sirius says lightly.

“Right,” you laugh. It breaks up some of the apprehension in your chest.

“If you want to,” Remus’ voice softens, “I suppose you could start by kissing him.”

You look at him, then at Sirius. For the first time, something like insecurity flashes across his face.

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly. No longer the brazen flirt, but the kind, considerate boy you know. “It’s okay.”

“I know,” you reply.

It’s like he’s afraid to touch you until you get to him. You steady yourself with a hand on his jaw, your other pressing into the mattress as you lean towards where he’s reclined against your pillow and bring your lips to his.

You know all the ways that Sirius moves, and even this new, completely uncharted part of him is consistent. Sirius’ kisses start out slow, probing, feeling out what you like and what he can do, but then he gives himself over to it. His hands find first your hips, urging you closer to him before one slides to the small of your back. Greedy fingers curl in the fabric of your pajama top.

You make a small, accidental sound in the back of your throat when his teeth tease your bottom lip, and Sirius pulls away. You’re both breathing hard.

Sirius stares at you for a weighted moment before his eyes drift behind you and he huffs out a laugh. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

You look over your shoulder, and Remus is watching you both with a low flame burning in his gaze. He flushes a tad at the question but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward, kissing you, tasting Sirius on your lips.

───────────────────────────────────────────

The three of you don’t need to speak much to communicate. Remus pulls you back into him, his length hardening against your ass, and Sirius follows. He kisses Remus over your shoulder with a relieved sort of sigh. All the while, his hands are roving your thighs, pushing up your pajama shorts until they crease and pinch at your crotch.

You exhale and tilt your head to the side when Remus drops his lips to your neck. “We have a competition tomorrow,” you remind them both. “We ought to be resting up.”

You feel Sirius’ grin as he brings his mouth to yours again. “Yup.” He nips your bottom lip. “I’m aware this is a bad idea.”

“I’m afraid I can’t condone it,” Remus agrees, one hand covering your ribs while the other sneaks down to tease the waist of your pajama shorts.Your poor shorts are being attacked from both sides. “How far do you want to go?”

Sirius pulls his lips from yours to watch you think. They still tingle, and you rub them together unconsciously. His eyes darken.

“You drive me mad when you do that,” he says.

“Do what?”

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pressing down on it gently. His own lips are swollen and gleaming prettily with spit, eyes nearly all pupil. Remus’ hand strokes lazily at your side.

“I want to go as far as you guys want to,” you say without breaking Sirius’ gaze.

His grin widens, and he looks at Remus, shrugging. “We could just go until somebody says stop.”

“Alright,” says Remus. One of his hands leaves you, finger hooking in the waist of Sirius’ trousers. “Can we take these off, then?”

Sirius isn’t shy, but you didn’t think he would be. He sits up on his knees and pulls them down, letting Remus help them over his ankles before they’re discarded in a heap on the floor. Remus gets rid of his too, and then you’re staring at the outlines of both boys through the far thinner material of their underwear.

Remus ghosts a touch over Sirius’ cock, making the other boy’s expression pinch with want, before pulling down the waistband. Lithe, graceful muscles and hip bones curving inwards. Sirius curses as Remus’ long fingers wrap around him.

Remus pumps slowly, his own arousal an insistent heat at your hip. You find your attention torn between the feeling of his body against your backside and the sultry droop of Sirius’ eyelids as he watches Remus work his cock.

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Remus murmurs.

It takes you a second to realize he’s speaking to you. “Yeah.” Your mouth feels dry. You swallow, and watch as Sirius’ eyes flit up to the motion. “He always does.”

Remus hums in agreement, pressing a light kiss to an exposed bit of skin beside the neckline of your top. “Do you want to try, lovely?”

You turn your head to look at him. Remus’ eyes are glued to Sirius. “What about you?”

A chuckle, and another soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll be alright.”

Remus waits until your hand is around Sirius’ shaft, pumping a couple times against his own fist, before letting go. You choose a slightly less languid pace than Remus had. Sirius twitches in your grasp, taking your face in his hands and setting his lips to yours with a muffled groan.

Behind you, Remus moves closer until his length is pressed against your ass. One of his hands steadies you by the hip while the other dips below the waistband of your shorts, palming you through your underwear. You shift, and he hisses when you move against him.

You turn your head on instinct, Sirius’ lips smudging across your cheek. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is breathy, amused. “You just surprised me.”

“What’d she do?” Sirius is never one to be left out of the loop.

“Just backed into me.”

“Oh. Gorgeous,” he smiles, turning you by the chin to capture your lips again, “who wouldn’t want that?”

Their praise soon has you devolving into a thoughtless, sensory creature. Sirius’ hands caress your face and neck and Remus’ fingers brush your panties aside to toy with your cunt. Every movement of your hips makes him push more insistently against you. Your shirt comes off, Remus dotting your shoulders with sweet kisses. Your grip tightens on Sirius’ cock, and a low, needy sound tears out of him.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.”

Your heart flutters at the endearment, but you don’t let your movements stall. Soon he’s pushing his hips into your hand, kisses turning messy and desperate, your own sounds harder to suppress as Remus bullies your clit with two fingers. You’re glad to know at least Sirius’ room is empty on your other side, because you’re beginning to wonder how thick these walls are. Remus pushes his length into the crease between your asscheeks through your shorts, Sirius’ cock beginning to twitch in your hand, and you press your lips together to contain a sound that promises to be both loud and mortifying—and the bed collapses.

You fall backwards onto Remus as the cardboard on his end gives out, sending all three of you to the floor. Sirius’ teeth knock into yours and Remus catches you around the waist with both hands, keeping you from fully sitting on his hard cock.

“Fuck.” Sirius brings a hand to his mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, shit.” You scramble away from Remus, onto the floor. Both boys look at you in alarm. You’re looking to where Remus’ leg is bent underneath him, not at a terribly cruel angle, but still— “Your hip. Is your hip okay?”

“Oh.” Remus glances down as though he’s forgotten it himself, realization dawning over his features.

“Fuck,” Sirius breaths, remembering as well. His hand moves toward Remus but lingers in the air, afraid of hurting him.

“It’s…yeah, it’s okay,” says Remus. His eyes meet yours. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

Sirius’ brows pinch, but his hand makes it the rest of the way, rubbing tentatively over Remus’ hip joint. “Are you sure?”

Remus shifts slowly, sitting up off his knees to move closer to Sirius. “I’m sure.” A little smile graces his lips. “You worried about me, Pads?”

Sirius’ face splits in the sort of grin you can only ever surprise out of him. “Fuck off,” he laughs, pushing Remus away when he tries to kiss him. Remus catches Sirius’ hands, his own smile unfurling slowly, almost unwillingly. It makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“How sweet,” he hums, smug.

You find yourself smiling at them both, your heart a balloon in your chest.

“Okay.” You give the mattress a little tug. “In that case, could you guys get off?”

“What’re you doing?” Remus asks. Both he and Sirius move.

“Having this on a slant doesn’t seem like a good idea, so I’m moving it.”

It should be awkward, this break in the tension, but maybe it’s because you’re so used to working as a team that it isn’t. You all get the mattress situated on the floor, and then you’re dragging Remus’ underwear off, his hands moving kind and doting over the lengths of your arms. He inhales a small breath as Sirius takes his cock into his mouth.

You watch Sirius’ lips move up and down his shaft, his eyes dark and growing shiny as he takes Remus as far as he can. You aren’t quite sure how to contribute, but when you rub the inside of Sirius’ thigh tentatively both boys moan. You take that to mean you’re on the right track.

The muscles in Sirius’ back flex as he raises and lowers his head between Remus’ legs, mouth growing wet with spit and slick, and it’s not long before Remus’ fingers are curling in Sirius’ hair, curses spewing from between his lips in a Welsh accent you’ve not heard before. You can’t help but follow them back to the source, kissing Remus just before he cums down Sirius’ throat. He grips you by the arms with something like desperation. You’re happy to stay as the tension unwinds from his body, until his hands are moving down you, smoothing across the skin just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Are you planning on keeping those on all night?”

It’s Sirius who asks, his gaze sultry as he watches Remus’ finger skim just underneath the fabric covering your ass. He wipes the corner of his mouth with a thumb.

“How’s this?” Remus suggests. He pulls you gently into his lap, situating you between his legs with your back against his chest. Again, you can feel the impression of him pressed against your backside.

Your voice comes out weak. “This is good.”

He chuckles, soothing a hand down your side while Sirius grins. Sirius’ fingers grasp the elastics of both your shorts and your underwear. “Okay?” he asks you.

You nod.

He takes his time working them down your legs and off your ankles, his eyes locking on your exposed cunt and the arousal Remus has coaxed out of you already. Remus, too, is watching over your shoulder. His fingers gravitate back to it, dragging slick up through your folds idly, almost worshipfully. He kisses behind your ear.

“Fuck, you’re lovely,” says Sirius.

Both boys’ gazes stay glued to your cunt as Sirius positions himself over you, pushing into your warmth. You bite down on a small sound. Remus tuts at you, his hand spreading reassuringly over your navel.

“You can do better than that,” he chides. “Don’t think we don’t want to hear you.”

Sirius holds your hips as he sinks into you. His fingers dent your flesh, and you marvel at the fact that you’ve wasted so much time not doing this. That you’ve ever been in a room with either Remus or Sirius and managed not to kiss them dizzy. You’re not sure you’ll be able to manage it again.

Remus draws slow, tight circles around your clit with his finger. You arch your neck back onto his shoulder, and Sirius groans as you tighten on him.

“God—you’re so perfect,” he says hoarsely. “You feel so good.”

Your reply gets lost on a lewd sound as he drags his cock along your walls. Remus kisses you rewardingly in the soft skin underneath your ear. “There you are,” he says. “Good girl.”

Warmth unfurls through your gut.

Sirius grins whatever reaction must show up on your face, his hands migrating to your ass as he thrusts into you. As he gets rougher, so do Remus’ ministrations to your clit, his slow circles turning quick and jagged. You feel yourself tighten on Sirius in little flutters that have him gripping you tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises.

“Fuck, like that, yeah. Just like that, baby.”

Your lips part at the pet name and Sirius’ eyes flick up to yours like he’s surprised too, like he’s let slip something he didn’t mean to. But you say, “come here,” and he goes, leaning over you to let you take his face in your hands and kiss him until you can’t breathe.

Remus feels your high approaching before you do. His free hand smooths over the inside of your twitching thigh.

“Are you close?” he asks you.

Sirius parts his lips from yours, looking down to see the confirmation on your face. You give it.

“Good,” he says, picking up his pace, “good, sweetheart, that’s it. Cum for me, yeah? I’ve got you.”

You nearly bite your lip in half when you do, Remus tsking amusedly and kissing your neck while the tightening of your cunt threatens to send Sirius over the edge as well. He starts to pull out of you, but you grab his hand.

“It’s okay,” you manage. “In me.”

“Really?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna feel it.”

That’s all it takes. Sirius’ expression pinches like you’ve said something cruel as he thrusts into you one last time, a shock that reverberates through you as he warms you from the inside out. He’s rigid for a few seconds before tipping forward, his head to your shoulder and to Remus' chest, which you’ve slipped down without noticing. His breath fans softly over your skin.

Remus rubs your thigh comfortingly and with his other hand pets down Sirius’ hair, cupping his flushed cheek. “Alright, love?” he asks.

Sirius’ blush seems to worsen. “Yeah. You?”

“More than.” Remus kisses his head.

It’s only after a few seconds of silence that you realize Remus’ question was posed to the both of you.

“That was…” you shake your head, at a loss “...fantastic.”

“Yeah?” Sirius nudges his nose into your skin. “I thought so.”

Remus’ chuckle rumbles through all three of you. “Cocky,” he says fondly.

“And decent enough with it, by all reports.”

It starts up a round of sweet, half teasing kisses Sirius pretends to want to escape despite making no real efforts to do so. You give and receive plenty of your own, until not just your lips and shoulders but many other parts of you are wet with spit and slick. You fall asleep all three on a twin mattress on the floor, your head on Remus’ chest and Sirius’ arms wound around your middle. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

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rafesbabygirlx · 3 months ago

Text

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 3

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary:Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: you’re in for a treat. this one’s a little longer than part 1 and 2. I hope you enjoy.

Not proofread

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI, SMUT (oral, f & m receiving, p in v different positions, overstimulation) more talk of loss, arguing, physical altercation, (just a slap) discussion of abortion

You woke up in a daze, your mind still foggy, completely unprepared for the challenges that the day ahead might hold. The clock on the wall blares that it’s already 10:30 AM, a clear indication that time has slipped away from you. With a reluctant sigh, you muster the energy to pull yourself out of bed. As you make your way into the living room, the sight that greets you is heartwarming: Kie and Cleo are sprawled on the floor, engaged in playful antics with Vivienne, affectionately known as V.

“Good morning!” Cleo chirps cheerfully. “She had a big girl breakfast, took her morning nap, and now we’re playing with her stuffed turtles!” The joy in her voice is infectious, instantly brightening your mood.

Vivienne, who is typically up by 5:30 AM, has already had her morning nap around 9:00 or 9:30, and now she’s fully awake and eager for attention. As soon as she notices you, she struggles to pull herself up to her feet, wobbling slightly as she makes her way toward you. It’s remarkable to see how far she’s come in just two short months since she took her first steps. With her determination, you wouldn’t be surprised if she becomes a sprinter by the time she turns two. Clutching a toy turtle in her tiny hand, you scoop her up, noticing the adorable purple onesie she’s wearing, which is adorned with a delightful array of baby turtles. It seems that this little one has developed quite the fascination with them.

You plant a big kiss on her cheek, savoring the sweet moment, before gently returning her to Kie and Cleo, who are more than eager to continue their play. Just as you are about to settle into your morning routine, Pope arrives, bringing with him a spread of delicious food for everyone. You share a leisurely breakfast as the others entertain Vivienne, allowing you some precious moments to gather your thoughts and prepare for the day ahead.

Once you feel awake and refreshed, you take your time adding the finishing touches to your makeup and styling your hair. By the time you emerge, Kie, Cleo, and Pope are ready to head out for the day, each of them aware of the importance of giving you space to handle things on your own, especially when it comes to Rafe. There’s a sense of camaraderie as the girls envelop you in warm hugs, offering encouraging words that bolster your spirits. Pope extends a fist bump in playful camaraderie, but you choose instead to lean in for a heartfelt hug, expressing your gratitude for the breakfast and their unwavering support. It’s these little moments that remind you just how fortunate you are to have such a loving and supportive circle around you.

You spend some delightful time playing with Vivienne, losing track of the minutes as her laughter fills the room. Before you know it, the clock strikes 12:30, signaling her lunchtime. You prepare a small feast of bite-sized turkey sandwich pieces, fresh raspberries, and tender steamed broccoli, watching as she eagerly indulges in each morsel. By 1 PM, she finishes her meal, perfectly timed for her afternoon nap. You gently feed her a bottle, rocking her softly in your arms until her eyelids grow heavy, and finally lay her down in your bed, surrounded by her favorite stuffed animals.

With Vivienne peacefully asleep, the quiet of the house settles in around you, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wait for Rafe’s arrival. You grab your phone, scrolling through messages and social media, then take a moment to tidy up her toys scattered across the living room floor. As the minutes tick by, the silence becomes almost palpable, and you find yourself nervously biting your nails, anxiety bubbling to the surface.

You briefly forget just how punctual Rafe is. At 1:58, the familiar sound of his truck crunching over the gravel outside jolts you from your thoughts, and by 2 PM on the dot, there’s a knock at the door. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you open the door to find Rafe standing there, arms laden with a dozen shopping bags.

“Hey—what the hell is this, Rafe?” you exclaim, surprised at the sight. He breezes past you, making himself at home as he sets the bags down in the living room.

“I didn’t want to come empty-handed, and since I didn’t know what she likes or what size she really is, I may have bought one of every toy and a couple of sizes of clothes,” he explains, a hint of pride in his voice.

“She’s one, Rafe. She wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t bring anything at all. So much for my hope of not spoiling her,” you reply, your voice laced with frustration.

“Yeah, well, I never knew that was your plan,” he counters, and you can feel the guilt creeping in as your gaze drops to your feet, the weight of the moment settling heavily on your shoulders.

“So where is she?” he asks, looking around the room.

“She’s in my room, napping,” you respond.

He looks at you, clearly puzzled. “You invited me here at this time, and she’s not even up?!”

You roll your eyes and huff a breath, trying to keep your composure. “Her lunch is at 12:30, and she naps from 1 to 2. Do you really think I’d invite you over without a plan?”

“Alright, sure, whatever you say,” he replies, his tone dismissive.

You grab his arm, urgency in your voice. “I wanted you to come at this time because I wanted you to help me get her up. It’s one of my favorite moments. I thought it’d be a good one for you to experience first.”

“Oh, okay, sorry,” he replies, his demeanor shifting as he follows you into the bedroom.

You approach the bed, softly rubbing Vivienne’s temple as you gently speak to her. “Wake up, baby girl, it’s time to get up.” She stirs, tiny hands rubbing her eyes as she shifts under the covers. When she finally opens her bright blue eyes, a radiant smile spreads across her face, and she giggles as you tickle her stomach.

“Mama,” she says, her voice breaking through the laughter, and your heart swells with joy. You scoop her up into your arms, beaming as you turn to Rafe, who stands there, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide in disbelief. The sight of you and Vivienne together is a moment of pure magic, one that he seems to be taking in entirely, a mixture of awe and wonder painted across his face.

You both make your way into the living room, where you gently set Vivienne down on the floor, right in the midst of the colorful bags Rafe brought with him. “Watch her for a second,” you say, casting a playful glance back at Rafe. He looks startled, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “You’ll be fine, Rafe,” you giggle, heading toward the kitchen.

As you prepare a snack for Vivienne, you glance back at Rafe, who is now on the floor with her. His hand hovers hesitantly above her, clearly unsure of how to engage, but a broad smile spreads across his face as he watches her. This sight warms your heart, and a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you admire the moment.

You return to the living room, placing the snack on the floor, and Vivienne crawls over to it eagerly. The sight of the bags scattered around fills you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “You really didn’t need to do all of this,” you tease, looking at Rafe with a playful smirk.

“I wanted to,” he replies earnestly. “Aside from not knowing anything about her or her size, I wanted her to have these things.” You start pulling items out of the bags: baby books, clothes in three different sizes—thankfully he included larger sizes, too, anticipating her growth. Among the bags, you find a collection of stuffed animals, and as you pull out a plush sea turtle, Vivienne snatches it from your hands, tossing her snack aside in her excitement.

“She’s definitely in a bit of a turtle phase,” you and Rafe laugh together, the tension from earlier dissipating as the day unfolds without a hint of awkwardness. Rafe quickly becomes comfortable, diving into playtime with Vivienne while you join in at points. As you watch them together, it’s undeniable how much she resembles him. Even the features you often claim to be yours seem to fade away, overshadowed by the undeniable similarities. It’s as if you’re gazing at two twins, a striking reflection of one another.

When dinner time rolls around, you enlist Rafe's help to prepare Vivienne’s meal, allowing him to learn what she likes. After dinner, he helps give her a bath, and you both share in the delight of her giggles and splashes. Once she’s tucked into bed, you leave the room, expecting him to follow you. You turn around to find him lingering in the doorway, watching her with a soft smile, his thumb brushing over his cheek. In that moment, you realize you’ve never seen him look so utterly in love.

Eventually, he joins you on the couch, the atmosphere cozy and peaceful. “I don’t know how you ever get any sleep; I could watch her for hours,” he remarks, and you smile, though you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. “Yeah, she’s a little sleeping beauty. She’s just perfect.”

Now that the two of you are alone, you know some difficult conversations need to happen. Rafe lets out a sigh, settling into the old, beat-up couch. The silence stretches between you for several moments before you decide to break it. “I’m not sorry for being okay with your dad being dead,” you state, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Rafe jolts his head in your direction, disbelief etched across his features. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes,” you reply firmly.

“After all this time, this is what you say to me? After an amazing day?” His frustration is palpable.

“Yes,” you insist again.

“I know it’s your dad, and I know you loved him, but how do you not understand, even after everything, how awful he was?”

“Maybank enou—”

“NO! What he did to Sarah, how he barely cared about Wheezie, and how he turned you into a monster!” Your voice rises, but you simultaneously remain calm, determined to explain your perspective.

“You can be an asshole sometimes, but the way he turned you into a self-destructive shell of yourself was more than enough reason for me. The way he abused you, almost strangling me and Sarah to death on the ship—all over greed. He was an evil man, and I will never miss him.”

Rafe stands, his face flushing with anger. “That is my father! Your precious Pogues had him killed, and you have the nerve to not even be slightly remorseful?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. “You never even gave me the chance to explain! You pushed me away, and you probably don’t even know the truth. I’m not trying to make you hate him, but you need to understand where I’m coming from.”

You urge Rafe to sit back down, hoping to calm his nerves, mindful of Vivienne’s peaceful slumber. You take a deep breath and begin explaining everything that led up to Ward and Big John’s deaths, carefully detailing the events without glossing over the pain that was inflicted on everyone involved. Including John B, who also lost his father that day, for a second time.

Rafe listens in silence, absorbing the weight of your words. He remains speechless, unable to formulate a response, and eventually, he pulls you into him, resting his head on your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of his tears soaking into your arm, and you cradle his head gently, offering him comfort.

After a moment, you pull away slightly and ask him to stay the night. “I, uh… I had plans with Sofia to meet Topper and his girl in a bit,” he admits, and you feel a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“Oh, right, of course you do,” you reply, attempting to laugh it off, but the sting of that reality lingers. You had forgotten that Rafe had built a new life while you were gone.

As you get up, preparing to head to bed, he suddenly yanks you back down into his lap, brushing the hair that has fallen around your face behind your ear. “I guess I technically have a valid excuse for not making it,” he says with a smirk, and before you can respond, he pulls you in for a kiss.

You deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in the back of his neck as he lifts you effortlessly, laying you back down on the couch without breaking the kiss. “I’ve fucking missed these lips,” he murmurs between kisses, each one igniting a spark of passion.

In the heat of the moment, you almost miss the front door slamming open. A drunken JJ comes barreling in, followed closely by Kie, Pope, and Cleo. “I thought it smelled like shit in here!” he exclaims, loud and boisterous.

“Be quiet, JJ. V is sleeping,” you say, your voice firm but playful. Rafe turns his head to reply, but you quickly pull him back to face you, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Let’s go to my room,” you whisper, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of mischief, as the evening takes an unexpected turn.

As you head toward your door, JJ interrupts with a piercing remark. “King Rafe, self-proclaimed good at everything he does except being a stand-up father. Leaving my sister like that just to let you back in so easily? I’d think something was wrong with her if you weren’t a world-class manipulator just like your father.”

“JJ!” you exclaim, your voice sharp with disbelief.

Rafe starts to move toward him, clearly bewildered by JJ's accusations. You quickly intervene, urging him to go into your room. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, you confront JJ, frustration boiling over. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that to him?”

JJ scoffs, crossing his arms defiantly. “Please, he deserves it! After everything he did to you?! You’re defending him?”

You raise your hand, your patience wearing thin. “JJ, lower your fucking voice! I told you V is sleeping.” But he continues to rant about how much of a piece of shit he thinks Rafe is, and you finally reach your breaking point.

“I LIED!” you yell, your voice echoing in the tense atmosphere, completely disregarding your own advice to keep it down.

“I lied, JJ. Everything I told you about what happened after I left wasn’t true. He never knew. He never knew I was pregnant; he never knew I had V. I tried to push down my feelings about what he said to me the last time I saw him, and I tried to convince myself he didn’t want either of us. It was easier. You hated him anyway, so it was simpler to tell you guys that, too. The guilt ate me up every day! That’s why he’s here. He deserves the chance to meet her, whether you all like it or not.”

JJ leans over the counter, slurring his words. “You should’ve just gotten that abortion like you planned to, so we didn’t have to deal with this mess and have him around.”

“JJ!” Kie yells, her tone sharp and reprimanding.

Without thinking, you slap JJ across the face, the sound echoing in the room. His head jolts to the side, and to your shock, he laughs. The gasps from everyone else in the room create a heavy tension, and for a split second, your own face falls in disbelief at your actions. But anger quickly replaces that disbelief as you stare at him, furious that he could say something so hurtful to you. “Good, maybe that’ll sober him up a bit,” you retort and turn toward your room, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

As you slip past Rafe, you barely register that he has been standing there the entire time, watching the confrontation unfold. He closes the door behind him, the soft click resonating in the tense silence.

He sits down on the bed, a weighty silence hanging in the air. Without a word, you straddle his lap, pulling him into a feverish kiss, desperate to drown out the chaos that just erupted. You can’t talk about it now; you just need to feel something else, something that’s yours.

Rafe responds instantly, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you in closer. “We don’t have to talk now. Let me take care of you instead,” he murmurs against your lips. With that, he stands up, holding you effortlessly, and lays you down on the bed, his body pressing against yours as the world outside fades away. In this moment, you find solace in each other, the storm of emotions momentarily forgotten as you lose yourselves in one another.

He holds you tightly at the waist, leaning over while kissing you passionately. As he slips his tongue into your mouth, he senses the familiar thrill he remembers. Slowly, he starts to lift your shirt. Realizing what he’s doing, you arch your back, eagerly yanking it off, and pull his shirt off in one swift motion. You grab his face, pulling him in to kiss him again, lost in the moment.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips over your cheek, then along your jawline, and down to your neck. He gazes at your breasts, gently cupping both in his hands. Slowly, he takes your left nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking, lavishing attention on it for a few minutes before moving to the right. Soft moans escape your lips as pleasure courses through you.

Once he shifts his focus from your chest, his kisses travel down your stomach. He pauses at the waistband of your shorts, teasingly licking his way back up, over your stomach, between your breasts, and up to your neck and chin, before crashing his lips back against yours.

Kneeling before you, Rafe grabs your calves and plants soft kisses all over your legs. He takes hold of the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you for confirmation. You nod, heart racing, and he slowly pulls them off. A small whimper escapes you, fueled by the overwhelming desire to be closer to him. Once your shorts are discarded, his hands explore your thighs, rubbing and massaging the skin, warm kisses trailing behind.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Rafe spreads your legs apart, positioning himself perfectly in line with your core. He licks his lips. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good with just my mouth. I want you to cum all over my face,” he whispers, igniting a wave of pleasure in you at his words. He hasn’t even begun yet, and you’re already lost in the anticipation.

With a starving look in his eyes, he gently spreads your folds apart with his fingers, laying his tongue flat against you. A cry of ecstasy escapes your lips, and you don’t care if anyone outside can hear you. You secretly relish the thought of teasing your brother for what he said. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this kind of touch, and it’s all the more intoxicating that it’s Rafe’s tongue amidst your thighs.

Rafe begins to work his magic, he usually watches you from down there but he’s so into it and missed it he could only keep his eyes shut. Licking up and down your folds shaking his head left and right to build you up. You’re moaning like crazy. “Rafe… fuck!” You throw your head back. He begins to stick his tongue in and out of you circling your hole. You still can’t believe the speed he’s able to do this. He moves back up flicking your clit before fully engulfing his mouth over it and sucking on it hard. You begin to pant, it’s hard to breath, feeling the build up in your stomach. Your legs he’s holding back beginning to shake. It’s feels unreal. He won’t let up, moving back and forth from sucking on your clit, to laying his tongue flat and shaking the hell out of his head.

“Oh my god, Rafe I’m fucking - ah.” You arch your back and throw your head into the comforter, you cry out as you cum. He doesn’t let up, eating you out through your orgasm. Cleaning up every last drop of you. Once you’ve calm down he finally looks up at you. You meet his eyes and smile. Reaching down to wipe your arousal off his chin, pulling him to taste yourself on his tongue.

While kissing you reach down and begin to fumble with his belt. He smiles into your mouth. Standing he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants and boxer briefs off in a swift motion. You lift you legs up and he slides comfortably in between them his hard cock laying on top of you. He’s looking down at you and you up at him. Maintaining eye contact you lick your hand and reach down and begin to pump him. He shivers at the motion and can’t help but watch you at this angle jerk him off with his mouth agape. He begins to fuck your hand throwing his head back when he can’t stand how good this feels. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He groans.

You loosen your grip when he looks back down. “Eyes on me, daddy.” A word you never used before, but it seems fitting because you’ve never seen him more sexy than today, being a father. He grunts at the demand (and the pet name.) You tighten your grip again now leaning down to like his tip. You hold your tongue flat out as he bumps into it with every thrust. You’ve know Rafe long enough to know when he’s about to cum. He doesn’t even need to warn you. His thrusts get faster and sloppier and he grunts above you. “Mama, shit stay just like that, ugh.”

He throws his head back again as he cums. Quickly regaining composure to look back down at you as your mouth fills with his hot liquid and you swallow it all. Finger grazing your upper lip to catch some strays and suck it off.

Before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the waist and moving up to your pillows. Lifting your legs up and finding himself back in between your legs. He’s already hard again, not at all ready to stop at one round.

He aligns himself up with your entrance. But he decides to tease you a bit first. Rubbing his tip between your folds. Rubbing circles around your clit as you squirm beneath him. “Rafe, please I need you.” You plead reaching your hand down to push him in. He swiftly grabs your wrist pinning it above you. Leaning in lips brushing against you. “You had me wait for almost 2 years, you can wait a second.” You stay in this position, so lost in his eyes you don’t prepare for him to smash into you.

He lets you adjust for a second before slowly pulling out and push back into you. He takes his time you both moaning at the feeling. “Faster baby please. I need you harder” you plead. He doesn’t need anymore more convincing. Just like that, he’s thrusting in and out of you at a pace that has your mind racing. You can’t focus on anything but the pleasure. Your eyes moving around the room, rolling to the back of your head and back to him to maintain eye contact. Looking into his even though everything is blurry, you still see the sharpness of the blue staring back at you.

You let out a bunch of oos and ahs that has him gritting his teeth. “You like that baby girl? When I pound into you like this? You were always a little slut for me fucking you like this.” You nod but that isn’t enough for him. He wraps his arm around your neck gripping your hair and pulling your head back. “I didn’t hear you baby.”

“Yes. I’m your little slut, I love when you split me in half just like that. Right there, uhhh, keep doing that.”

Rafe was always smug about his length. Not only his length but the width of him is what had you drooling every time. The way he’d stretch you and brush against your walls is what kept you so enamored with him. It was the ultimate pleasure.

You feel yourself getting closer again. The way you scratch his back and arch into him her could tell too. Before he can let you go, he pulls out and flips you. On his knees he pulls you onto all fours. Dropping a glob of spit on your slit, he gathers it with his tips and slams back into you. This angle causes you to see stars and he hits your cervix every thrust. The grip on your hips has him plunging in even faster. He can’t get enough of feeling you around him.

“Rafe I’m close!” You belt out.

“Not yet baby, let me meet you, come with me.” You cry out not sure you’ll be able to do it. His thrusts start getting sloppy. You clench around him once you start to feel him throb in you. He reaches one hand into your hair yanking you up flush against his chest. Wrapping g that hand around your throat now while the other enters your mouth to graze onto your tongue and then down to your clit to run circles ferociously. You legs start to give out but he holds you up by your throat not giving f you any place to go.

“Raaafee, oh my god” you cry out. Tears streaming down your face.

“Come on baby, come for me now, I’m right behind you.” Your legs shake again, the overstimulation is unbearable now. Both hand still occupied around your throat and your clit. He doesn’t stop as you cum, hand still circling him still thrusting.

“Baby. Fill me up. Please cum inside me.” That’s all it takes for him to give you a couple of more deep thrusts and he fills you up. You feel so warm inside as you feel his come deep inside you.

He stays inside as you drop to the bed. Holding his position for a few seconds as he tries to catch his breath. He stands up and finds a towel hanging on your door. You flip over to lie in your back and he cleans you up. Annoying as he can be he was very attentive to aftercare with you.

He goes to toss the towel in your hamper as you get under the covers. He follow suit. You nuzzle your head into his neck as he wraps his arms around you. The warmth of his naked body is so soothing to you. All the lost memories of you and him come flooding back to you. You never want this feeling to end. He gives you repeated kisses on the forehead.

However, you know that in the morning reality will set back in and you realize he isn’t yours anymore.

You let emotions get the best of you and all you could think of was how terrible this is for Sofia. You aren’t the type of person to sleep with another woman’s man. You silently begin to cry. Happy tears at the thought of laying her with Rafe again mixed with sadness.

Rafe looks down at you concerned. You play it off as a yawn and just try to enjoy the moment you two are sharing now. He rubs your back and you just lay staring at each other until you begin falling asleep.

“God, how I’ve missed that pretty face.” Is the last thing you hear before sleep takes over.

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @calaryssia @leilanizcals @eg-dr3amer3 @ilove-tswizzle @ggggggbu @rafestar

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just-aake · 3 months ago

Text

A Feline Connection Part 3

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha gets a temporary roommate and ends up learning about what you’re hiding from her.

Warnings: light angst, violence, hurt/comfort, light fluff

Words: 6888

The quinjet touches down on the Compound’s landing pad, bringing Natasha back to the familiar surroundings after yet another frustrating mission.

She stomps down the ramp, intent on heading straight to her room, needing to recuperate from the weariness of yet another surveillance operation gone wrong.

The USB drive she collected from the target at your apartment building held information about potential weapons locations, but every lead she followed turned out to be a dead end—empty warehouses and useless intel.

She will need to re-evaluate everything she has to figure out where she went wrong, but for now, she was too exhausted to think about it.

Stepping into the elevator, Natasha presses the button for her floor. As the doors slide shut, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in from the speakers.

“Welcome back, Miss Romanoff. Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in the lab.”

Natasha groans, tipping her head back against the elevator wall. The last thing she wants to do is deal with Tony right now.

“Tell him to wait,” she mutters. “I just got back.”

A moment of silence passes, and Natasha allows herself a sigh of relief.

But the peace is short-lived, as Tony’s voice suddenly blared through the speaker.

“Now, Romanoff! Get down here now! Your—hey! Don’t touch that, you little—”

Natasha frowns at the abrupt cut-off. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was yelling at this time.

Curiosity wins over her exhaustion, and she presses the button for his floor instead.

When the lab doors open, she is greeted by the sight of a frazzled Tony waving his hands angrily at a small dome-shaped force field on the table.

“How do you like that?” Tony grumbles, glaring at something inside the dome. “This is what happens when you keep touching things that aren’t yours.”

Natasha steps closer, raising a brow when she sees who he is talking to.

Inside the force field, Widow is pawing at the barrier, her annoyed meows insistent and filled with frustration as if she is arguing back with him.

“Really, Stark?” Natasha says, crossing her arms with an unimpressed look. “You’re fighting with a cat?”

Tony turns to her, relief evident on his face as he grabs her arm and drags her closer to the trapped feline.

“Finally! Get your girlfriend’s pet out of my lab before she destroys something important!”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Natasha corrects with a roll of her eyes.

Ever since Clint had accidentally stumbled upon one of the flirty texts exchanged between you and Natasha, the teasing from the team had been relentless.

Despite the playful banter, you already made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything more than friendship right now, and Natasha can respect that.

That’s not to say her current feelings toward you have disappeared, but she can be content with having your company as a friend.

At least that’s what she tells herself.

Tony waves dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, sure. Just get that little troublemaker out of here.”

Natasha turns her attention back to Widow, who is now lying on her back inside the dome, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

Widow lets out a soft, adorable meow in greeting, prompting Natasha to place her hand against the surface of the force field with a small, amused smile.

In response, Widow stands and raises her paw, mimicking the motion and meowing softly.

“How did she even get in here?” Natasha asks, wondering if you are still nearby.

“She took the elevator,” Tony replies flatly.

Natasha shoots him a skeptical look, but he points to the cat defensively.

“I’m serious! FRIDAY didn’t detect the little sneak until the elevator arrived on my floor. I walked in to find her scratching one of my suits.”

Widow meows indignantly, offering Natasha a cute, pleading look as if to refute Tony’s accusations.

“Don’t fall for it, Nat. She’s trouble,” Tony warns, glaring at the little creature.

Shaking her head, Natasha disengages the force field and gives Widow a quick scratch behind the ears before turning to him with her hands on her hips.

“You’re overreacting, Tony. She’s practically harmless.”

At that moment, the sound of shattering glass fills the room.

Natasha turns to find a broken coffee mug on the floor, its contents spilled into a small puddle. Looking up toward the table, Widow is perched nearby, her paw still raised, clearly responsible for the destruction.

Tony glares at the two of them and points toward the door.

“Out.”

Sighing, Natasha scoops up Widow just as she is about to jump onto another table.

The cat lets out an offended yowl, but Natasha ignores it as she notices a small, folded piece of paper attached to the cat’s collar.

“What’s this?” Natasha mutters.

Tony glances over before looking away, uninterested.

“Don’t know, don’t care. She tries to scratch me whenever I go to grab it. Now, out of my lab.”

With Widow in her arms, Natasha exits and makes her way to her room.

Each time she reaches for the paper, the cat playfully swats at her hand, trying to nibble at her fingers.

“Hey, no biting,” Natasha chastises, lightly tapping Widow on the nose in reprimand.

After reaching her room, Natasha sets the cat down on the counter and pulls out a treat from the drawer.

She’s been stocking treats for the cat, just in case.

Widow’s eyes light up at the sight, and she begins to move towards it, but Natasha holds it just out of reach.

“Ah, no, I’ll give you this once you let me grab that paper.”

After a brief moment’s standoff, Widow releases a meow of surrender and tilts her head, allowing Natasha to retrieve the note. She offers the treat to the cat, who eagerly devours it, while Natasha’s other hand unfolds the paper.

Please take care of Widow for a couple of days There’s a backpack with everything she needs up on the roof Thanks, I owe you one, Miss Black Widow🖤 P.S. Tell Stark his west perimeter needs better security

Natasha couldn’t help but smirk in amusement at the last line.

She glances at Widow, who, after finishing her snack, is now comfortably lounging by the window, soaking in the sunlight.

“Looks like you’re staying with me for a while.”

Widow gives a lazy meow, completely at ease and utterly content in her new favorite spot.

Natasha smiles at the cat fondly, but it fades as she re-read the note.

Something didn’t feel right.

Taking out her phone, she calls your number, only to hear the automated message indicating that the call couldn’t go through.

Her frown deepens as she opens your recent text conversations—filled with photos of Widow and late-night talks—but nothing suggests you’d been planning for something where you’d need to leave Widow with her.

This must have been a sudden decision.

She quickly types out a message:

“Everything okay?”

The notification appears immediately:

Message not delivered.

Natasha’s concern grows as she stares at the screen, a sinking feeling settling in her chest.

As if sensing her unease, Widow hops down from her sunny perch and nudges Natasha’s leg with her head, purring softly as she rubs against her.

The simple gesture pulls Natasha from her thoughts, offering a moment of comfort amidst her rising concern. She bends down, stroking the sleek fur along Widow's back in silent thanks.

"Well, you don’t seem too worried," Natasha mutters, her voice low in consideration.

Widow yawns in response, her back arching as she stretches lazily.

The sight pulls a faint smile from Natasha, though it’s tinged with lingering apprehension. As much as she tries to dismiss her concern, the uneasy feeling still clings to her.

Glancing once more at the note, Natasha tells herself it’s probably fine. After all, you said it was only for a couple of days.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Later that night, Natasha steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from the quick shower. She absentmindedly dries her hair with a towel as she moves toward her bed, but upon reaching it, she pauses, her hands finding her hips as she takes in the sight before her.

At the foot of her bed, Widow is curled up, comfortably settled into the blankets, her little body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep.

Natasha huffs, a smile tugging at her lips.

“What’s the point of making you a cozy bed if you’re just going to sleep on mine?” she asks lightly, though her words are more affectionate than scolding.

Widow, seemingly fast asleep, doesn’t stir at her words—at least, not right away.

For a brief second, Natasha catches the subtle twitch of the cat’s ears, causing her to smirk knowingly and shake her head.

“Yeah, I’m not falling for that act again," she mutters, stepping forward and scooping the small cat into her arms.

Widow’s eyes snap open, narrowing at her in protest. A soft, indignant meow escapes as she squirms, clearly displeased at being caught pretending.

She gives a half-hearted swipe at Natasha’s face, but Natasha easily dodges the playful gesture with a quiet chuckle.

“Nice try,” Natasha teases, holding Widow up to meet her gaze.

Turning, she carries Widow over to the small, cozy bed she had arranged earlier near the window—a cushioned basket lined with a soft blanket, positioned to catch the warm morning sunlight.

“This is your bed,” Natasha says, setting Widow down on the plush surface.

Widow sniffs at the blanket curiously, circling a few times before settling into the cozy space. She let out a tiny, contented meow as if acknowledging the effort Natasha had put in.

Satisfied that her new roommate has been adequately situated, Natasha heads to her bed.

However, before she can take a step, a sharp, insistent meow echoes through the room.

Natasha turns back to find Widow staring at her expectantly, her golden eyes locked on her.

“What is it now?” Natasha asks, arching an eyebrow.

Widow’s gaze shifts to the backpack you had left behind, filled with all her essentials.

Another meow follows, this time directed at the bag.

Curious, Natasha moves to the backpack, kneeling to unzip it. As she rummages through the contents—food, toys, grooming supplies—her fingers brush against something soft, tucked away in one of the inner pockets.

Pulling it out, Natasha blinks in surprise.

It was a small plush toy—a miniature Black Widow doll, complete with the signature red hair and black jumpsuit.

“Seriously?” Natasha mutters to herself, an amused smirk forming on her lips.

She wishes your phone was receiving messages so that she can tease you about this. It’s cute how you keep denying being a fan of hers.

Widow immediately perks up at the sight of the toy, her eyes wide with excitement.

The moment Natasha places the small plush near her, the cat pounces on it with a delighted meow, her paws wrapping around it as she hugs the soft toy to her chest.

“Guess I’m your favorite Avenger, huh?” Natasha says softly, smiling warmly.

Widow responds with a tiny, satisfied purr, her eyelids fluttering shut as she snuggles into the plush toy.

Natasha lingers by the window, watching the little feline drift off to sleep, her heart warmed by the scene.

Once she is sure Widow has fallen asleep, Natasha returns to her bed, sitting at its edge.

The exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on her, but something about the sight of Widow contently hugging the tiny plush toy had brought her a slight sense of peace.

“At least one of us will have a good night’s sleep,” Natasha murmurs, glancing at the peaceful little ball of fur curled up in the basket.

Stretching out on her bed, Natasha lies back against the cool sheets, her body grateful for the reprieve.

Yet her mind refuses to relax.

The day’s frustrations, the failed mission, and the nagging worry about your sudden departure churn restlessly in her thoughts.

She closes her eyes, hoping for the oblivion of sleep, but knowing it wouldn’t come easily.

Eventually, the darkness behind her eyelids pulls her under, but her rest is far from peaceful.

Like always, her dreams are plagued by old memories—flashes of the Red Room, the harsh lights, the sharp smell of gunpowder and sweat.

She sees faces, blurred and indistinct, and hears the deafening sound of explosions.

Blood on her hands.

Her body feels heavy as if trapped, unable to move as the chaos envelopes her.

With a sudden start, Natasha wakes, shooting up in her bed.

Her heart pounds in her chest as her breaths come out in short, uneven bursts. Sweat clings to her skin, and for a moment, she is disoriented, her mind still lost somewhere between the nightmare and the safety of the Compound.

After a moment, the quiet room comes into focus around her, familiar but oppressive in the suffocating stillness of the night.

With a tired sigh, Natasha wipes a hand over her face, trying to shake off the lingering images of the nightmare and regain her composure.

Then, a soft sound reaches her ears in the quiet—a gentle rustling.

Natasha turns her head next to her.

Widow sits by her side, watching her intently with wide, concerned eyes.

The little black cat tilts her head slightly, her ears twitching as if sensing Natasha’s turmoil.

“Hey,” Natasha whispers, her voice rough with exhaustion. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

She reaches out a hand, but pauses as the nightmare resurfaces—a memory of her hands bloodied.

Natasha hesitates, pulling her fingers back, but before she can retreat fully, Widow nudges forward, nuzzling against her hand with a comforting purr that reverberates softly in the stillness of the room.

The warmth of Widow’s fur under her hand grounds Natasha, pulling her back from the edge of her spiraling thoughts.

The cat presses closer, gently kneading the bed near Natasha’s arm, before moving into her lap.

For a long moment, Natasha sits there, frozen, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Widow’s tiny breaths. The calm presence of the cat was unexpectedly soothing, quieting the turmoil in her mind.

Widow’s purring intensifies, almost as if she’s trying to wrap Natasha in that sound, as if she understands something is wrong.

Seeing the cat’s lack of fear and hesitation, Natasha exhales shakily, finally running her hand down Widow’s back in slow, gentle strokes.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs, more to herself than to the cat. “Just a bad dream.”

Widow doesn’t move, though, curling up closer against Natasha’s side, her little body a source of warmth. She lets out a soft, contented meow that vibrates with understanding.

It’s as though she is telling Natasha that it’s okay not to be okay.

A small smile tugs at Natasha’s lips.

She hadn’t expected this quiet comfort from something so small, yet here it was, easing the weight of her fears and being a soft presence at her side.

“Thanks,” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through Widow’s fur. “I needed this.”

Widow shifts slightly, snuggling closer to her as if accepting the gratitude.

The room, which had felt suffocating just moments before, now seemed a little more bearable.

Natasha leans back onto the pillow, her fingers still idly stroking Widow’s fur, the rhythmic purring lulling her back into a sense of calm.

This time, when her eyes drift shut, the darkness doesn’t feel quite as oppressive.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits on the couch, her posture relaxed but her mind miles away as she absently scrolls through her tablet. Reports, articles, and data streams pass her eyes as she picks at the remnants of her sandwich. Every lead for the mission had taken her nowhere, leaving her more frustrated than ever.

As she finishes off the last bite, a headline catches her eye.

“String of Break-ins Across the City: Police Diverting Resources to Combat Surge of Robberies”

Her fingers pause mid-scroll, and her brows knit together in suspicion. Clicking on the article, she skims through the details.

Over the course of several nights, high-end neighborhoods had been targeted by a series of well-coordinated robberies. The police were scrambling to refocus their efforts, diverting resources to protect the wealthy districts while struggling to find the culprits.

Noticing something familiar, Natasha pulls up the coordinates of the locations she had previously investigated—the ones that were supposed to link to the weapons she was chasing.

As she compares the areas of the robberies with the sites she had scouted, a pattern begins to form.

The break-ins and her failed leads overlapped in strange ways, both of them strategically avoiding a particular zone.

Her suspicion deepens. It can’t be just coincidence.

She glances over at Widow, who is happily munching on her food, blissfully unaware of Natasha’s growing unease.

The little black cat has kept her company whenever thoughts of your sudden disappearance bother her.

She still hasn’t been able to reach you, which only worsens the feeling that something is wrong.

Natasha was close to asking FRIDAY to track your phone, but the part of her that respected your privacy hesitated.

But now, a possible explanation about your whereabouts forms in her mind.

Before she can let the idea settle any further, the sound of the elevator doors opening breaks her concentration. Tony’s voice echoes into the room before he even fully steps out.

“Ugh, the cat’s still here? It’s been over a week. At this point, I’m gonna have to start charging her rent.”

Widow lifts her head from her bowl, her yellow eyes narrowing at Tony. A string of irritated meows escapes her, sounding oddly accusatory.

Tony gasps in offense. “Is she mocking me?”

Natasha doesn’t bother to respond to his complaints, having grown used to their ongoing squabbles over the past week.

Instead, she turns her tablet toward him, her mind still focused on the new lead forming in her head.

“Tony, you sent Peter to check out the docks recently, right?”

Tony pauses his glaring contest with Widow, glancing at the tablet before leaning back against the couch with a nod.

“Yeah, the kid didn’t see any weapons being moved in. Why, you got something?”

“Just a hunch,” Natasha replies, standing up with a quick stretch. “I need to check something out, but I need you to watch Widow for me.”

Tony’s face twists in horror as he immediately shakes his head, raising his hands in protest.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. You take her with you. I am not cat-sitting.”

Sighing, Natasha bends to scoop Widow up from the floor, cradling the small feline against her chest. She runs her fingers under Widow’s chin, giving her a soft scratch.

“I can’t take her. It could be dangerous.”

Tony eyes the cat warily, keeping his distance.

“Where’s Wanda? She loves this furball.”

“She’s on a mission,” Natasha answers, stepping closer and holding Widow out toward him. “Like everyone else.”

Tony crosses his arms and tucks his hands under his sides, stubbornly refusing to take the cat.

“Well, I’m busy too.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed.

“It’s only going to be an hour or two. Besides, you owe me, Stark. Remember Pepper’s birthday?”

Tony frowns in silence for a moment before groaning loudly in reluctant acceptance.

“Ugh, fine! But only because I don’t need her bringing that up again. Give me the cat.”

Widow, sensing the impending hand-off, squirms in Natasha’s arms, her tiny paws scrambling as she tries to burrow against Natasha’s body in protest.

Her soft, pitiful cries grow louder, almost as if she were begging Natasha not to leave her with Tony.

“No, no, no,” Natasha murmurs soothingly, running her fingers along Widow’s back. “It’s only for a little while, I promise.”

But Widow wasn’t having it.

She clings to Natasha, her tiny claws gripping her shirt, her cries growing more desperate.

Natasha sighs, trying to pry the cat away gently, but Widow is surprisingly strong for her size.

“See?” Tony says, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Even she doesn’t want this. You can’t force this on me!”

Natasha gives him an unimpressed look, clearly unmoved by his dramatic refusal.

“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

With one final nuzzle to calm the cat, Natasha manages to transfer Widow into Tony’s reluctant arms.

The moment the cat lands in his grasp, she goes completely still, her narrowed eyes locking onto Tony with an expression that could only be described as disdainful.

“I’ll be back soon,” Natasha promises, giving Widow one last pat on the head before grabbing her jacket and making her way to the door.

Tony sighs dramatically, holding the cat awkwardly at arm’s length.

“You better be. And if she scratches any more of my stuff, we’re gonna have a serious problem.”

Natasha chuckles softly but doesn’t look back. Her mind is already back on the case, the unease gnawing at her as she steps into the elevator.

Something about the break-ins, your disappearance, and the misleading intel she had been chasing feels connected in ways she couldn’t yet explain.

It was too perfect, too coordinated. And Natasha knows better than to believe in coincidences.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha pulls up near the docks, parking her car a few blocks away to avoid drawing any attention.

The dimly lit warehouses loomed large in the night, and her eyes scanned the scene for any movement or signs of activity.

Despite the late hour, there seems to be an unusual number of people milling around—far too many for a regular night shift. The men guarding the entrance didn't look like typical dock workers either; they were too alert, too stiff.

Looks like her instincts were right about something suspicious happening here.

As she tries to figure out her approach to investigate, a slight movement from the passenger seat catches her eye.

The half-opened duffel bag in front of her shifts ever so slightly.

Natasha blinks, her brow furrowing as she stares at the bag, almost unwilling to believe what she knew was coming.

With a sigh, she reaches over and unzips the bag entirely.

Sure enough, Widow’s small head pops out from where she had been hiding, her yellow eyes blinking up at Natasha with a soft, innocent meow.

“At this point, I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore,” Natasha mutters, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She leans over and gives the cat a quick scratch behind the ears.

“After all, you’re a professional, aren’t you? Just like her.”

Widow purrs, seemingly proud of the comparison, before hopping onto the passenger armrest.

Before Natasha can react, the cat swats at the buttons on the door, and the distinct click of the car door unlocking fills the air.

Natasha immediately presses the lock button again, shaking her head in exasperation and amusement.

“She trained you a little too well, you know that?”

The cat blinks at her, meowing insistently as she paws at the window, eager to assist.

Natasha knows there is no point in leaving her in the car—not when Widow is clearly more than capable of finding her way out.

With a sigh, Natasha relents.

“Alright, what’s the plan?”

Moments later, Natasha crouches in the shadows near the entrance to the docks, watching as the guards patrol the area.

Widow had slipped away almost as soon as they arrived, disappearing into the darkness with the kind of stealth that only a cat could manage.

Natasha stayed low, blending into the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move.

Suddenly, one of the guards at the gate straightens, his eyes darting around the area.

“Hey, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” his partner asks lazily, barely glancing up from his phone.

“I don’t know,” the first guard replies, his frown deepening. “But it sounded like it came from over there.”

“Well, go check it out, genius,” his partner mutters, shoving him in the direction of the noise.

The first guard grumbles but complies, his flashlight cutting through the dark as he wanders toward the distraction—away from Natasha’s position.

A faint smile tugs at her lips.

Looks like Widow is already making her move.

With the first guard distracted and the second engrossed in his phone, Natasha moves quickly, slipping past the gate and deeper into the docks.

She hugs the walls, her movements swift and silent, her senses on high alert.

The deeper she went, the more obvious it became that something was off.

The workers moving around the docks weren’t just loading and unloading—they were guarding something.

As she rounds a corner, Natasha freezes.

Ahead of her, two men stand by an open warehouse door, crates and boxes stacked high inside. She crouches behind a stack of barrels, her eyes narrowing as she listens.

“Are we sure we should be moving all of this tonight?” one of them asks, his voice low. “What if the cops show up? It’ll look suspicious.”

“Relax,” the other voice answers. “The boss has that girl keeping the police distracted with those break-ins. They’re so focused on protecting the rich neighborhoods that they won’t even think to check the docks. We’ll move the weapons through here without a hitch.”

Natasha’s blood runs cold as the realization hits her—these were the people using you.

Her fists clenched in anger. She had to put a stop to this, but just as she prepared to move, a sharp, startled yowl pierced the night.

Her heart leaps into her throat as her eyes snap toward the sound.

Widow’s small figure was caught in the grip of one of the guards, dangling helplessly as he held her by the scruff.

“Hey, isn’t this that girl’s cat?” the man remarks, shining his flashlight directly at Widow’s face.

Widow hisses in defiance, her fur standing on end as she swipes at the man’s hand. The man yelps in pain as her claws scratch deep.

“Damn cat!” the man snarls, his temper flaring. With a vicious motion, he flings her violently to the side.

Widow hits the warehouse wall with a sickening thud, her small body letting out a sharp, pained cry as she crumples to the ground.

In a flash, Natasha is on her feet, closing the distance between herself and the guard, her vision blurred with rage.

Without hesitation, she delivers a brutal kick to his ribs, sending him crashing against the warehouse wall. He slumped to the ground, unconscious before he could react.

The other guard barely had time to register what was happening before Natasha was on him. A swift punch to his jaw dazes him, and a well-placed elbow to the side of his head knocks him out cold.

Breathing heavily, Natasha turns to where Widow had been thrown. The small cat was now on her feet, limping toward her, clearly hurt but still alert.

Natasha curses under her breath in regret as she rushes to Widow’s side. She scoops the cat up carefully into her arms, cradling her close.

Widow meows weakly, pressing herself against Natasha’s chest, her small frame trembling slightly.

Natasha runs her hand gently over Widow’s fur, her touch careful and deliberate as she searches for any signs of injury.

Her fingers still when they brush over a small, raised patch of fur—a spot she hadn’t noticed before.

It didn’t seem like a wound from the impact when Widow had been thrown against the warehouse wall. It felt old, as though it had been there for some time.

Shaking off her confusion for now, Natasha lets out a small sigh of relief.

Widow’s injuries seem mostly minor—a few bruises and a limp, but nothing too serious.

The cat meows softly, leaning into Natasha’s comforting touch to reassure her that she is okay.

Glancing over her shoulder at the crates stacked inside the warehouse, Natasha knows she can’t afford to stay. More guards could be closing in, and with Widow hurt, she couldn’t risk a full confrontation.

Making a quick decision, she pulls out a few small, hidden trackers from her gear and discreetly attaches them to several of the boxes.

Now, at least, she’d be able to track the weapons’ movement.

With Widow nestled securely in her arms, Natasha slips through the shadows, her movements fluid and silent as she navigates between the towering crates and through narrow alleyways.

Every sense was on high alert, her focus sharp, her only goal to get them both out safely.

“Hang on, girl. I’ve got you,” she whispers, her voice low and reassuring as she cradles the cat close to her chest.

Throughout the entire ride back to the Compound, Natasha keeps Widow pressed protectively against her body, her arms wrapped around the small creature as though shielding her from the world.

The lab doors slide open as Natasha rushes inside, her eyes scanning the room for Tony. She finds him in the middle of a frantic search, tossing tools and devices around, clearly looking for something.

“Stark!” Natasha calls, her voice sharp with urgency.

Tony jumps at her voice, spinning around with wide eyes, hands raised defensively.

“I can explain!” he says quickly. “I put the furball down for one second, and the next thing I know, she’s...” His eyes fall to the cat cradled in Natasha’s arms, and he sags in relief. “...with you.”

Natasha shoots him an unimpressed glare as she moves toward one of the examination tables. She gently sets Widow down on the surface, stroking the cat’s fur as she tries to comfort her.

“FRIDAY, can you scan her for any injuries? We ran into some trouble,” Natasha requests.

“Certainly, Miss Romanoff,” the A.I. responds immediately, and the sensors on the examination table light up, preparing for the scan.

Widow perks up, her curiosity piqued by the glowing lights beneath her paws. She paws at the surface, her small meows filling the lab.

“I’d just like to point out, for the record, that I did warn you about leaving her with me,” Tony grumbles, grabbing a tablet from the nearby counter to check the scan results.

“Just tell me if she’s okay,” Natasha deadpans, crossing her arms.

Tony scrolls through the vitals displayed on the tablet, muttering as he does so.

“Calm down, Romanoff. I’m sure your girlfriend’s cat is just–”

Tony’s words abruptly cut off, and Natasha’s attention snaps from Widow to him.

His face had gone still, his usual smug expression replaced with a deep frown. He stares at the tablet as if seeing something he couldn’t quite believe.

Before Natasha can ask what is wrong, Tony reaches behind him, grabbing a device off one of the nearby tables.

Without warning, he tosses it toward Widow, and within seconds, a force field dome activates around the cat, encasing her in a barrier.

Widow yelps in surprise, jumping slightly before pawing frantically at the shimmering barrier.

Her yellow eyes go wide, and she turns to Natasha, letting out a distressed cry.

“What the hell, Tony?” Natasha barks, stepping forward to deactivate the force field.

Tony’s hand shoots out, stopping her.

“Don’t, Nat,” he says, his voice low and serious. “She’s dangerous.”

Natasha’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? No, she’s harmless.”

He shows her the screen and reveals grimly,

“There’s a bomb inside of her.”

Natasha freezes, her frown deepening as Tony’s words sink in.

Her eyes shift to Widow, who is now meowing pitifully, her paw pressing against the invisible force field as she looks at Natasha with wide, confused eyes.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha lies on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind processing the recent discovery.

Sleep was out of the question—not for the usual reasons this time, but because her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.

Everything was slowly falling into place, but the weight of it pressed heavily on her chest.

Earlier, Tony had confirmed it. Hidden beneath Widow’s fur was a small, foreign device—a bomb. Surgically implanted and designed to detonate remotely, it was rigged to explode if tampered with.

“So that’s what they’ve been using to control you,” Natasha whispers to herself, her fists clenching at her sides as the gravity of the situation settles in.

It wasn’t just about you—it was about keeping Widow alive. You had been trying to protect her this whole time.

Her gaze shifts to the corner of her room where Widow’s bed lay empty, the small plush toy resting on top of it.

Widow usually cries out for that toy before she goes to sleep, but now she is locked away in Tony’s lab, trapped inside the force field as a precaution.

Natasha’s heart ached at the thought of the frightened cat, isolated and alone, with no understanding of the threat she carried.

Unable to bear the thought any longer, Natasha stands, grabs the plush toy, and makes her way to the lab.

As the doors slide open, she spots Widow curled up beneath the shimmering barrier, her small body trembling, ears flattened against her head.

A soft whine echoes through the room, and Natasha’s heart breaks a little more.

Steeling herself, Natasha approaches the table and deactivates the force field.

Widow lifts her head slowly, blinking as she adjusts to her newfound freedom. Her wide, yellow eyes search the room before they find Natasha.

With a small, reassuring smile, Natasha holds out the plush toy.

“Come on,” she coaxes softly, her voice filled with an apologetic tenderness. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Widow tilts her head, hesitating for a moment before letting out a tiny meow. She moves toward Natasha, nuzzling her hand in forgiveness.

Natasha feels a rush of warmth, the tension in her chest easing slightly as the cat accepts her apology.

A little while later, Natasha finds herself on the rooftop of the Compound, the cool night air soothing her restless thoughts.

Widow was curled comfortably in her lap, contentedly gnawing on her plush toy under the vast, open night sky.

Natasha’s fingers idly stroke through the cat’s fur, her thoughts wandering to what comes next.

The situation was far more serious than she’d imagined, and it was clear the only way to move forward was to find you.

Her thoughts drift to you as they always do, wondering what you were going through—how much you must be shouldering by yourself.

Suddenly, Widow pauses her playing and stands, her front paws rising to rest on Natasha’s shoulder.

Natasha turns her head slightly to the side to look at the cat. She is about to ask what she is up to when your voice breaks the silence from the other side.

“Staying up late, as usual, I see.”

Natasha jumps, her body tensing as she whips her head around, heart pounding in her chest.

You were standing dangerously close—too close—and the sight of your familiar smirk made her pulse quicken even more.

The warmth between you seemed to radiate in the cool night air.

Widow wastes no time, immediately hopping over Natasha’s shoulder and into your waiting arms.

You chuckle softly, cradling the cat against your chest, fingers brushing through her fur.

“Hello to you too,” you murmur warmly as Widow nuzzles into you.

For a moment, Natasha allows herself to soften at the sight. There was something undeniably tender in the way you held Widow, in the gentle smile that curved your lips.

But that moment of softness quickly dissolves as her eyes land on the bandage above your left brow.

Her body tenses again as she stands slowly, brushing herself off while discreetly scanning you for other possible injuries.

"Thanks again for taking care of her," you say, breaking the silence, your gaze meeting hers. Widow is now nestled comfortably in your arms, completely at ease. “I mean it—I owe you. Anything you need, just say the word.”

Natasha takes a step forward, her hand instinctively reaching up to your face. Her fingertips brush delicately near the bandage on your brow, the touch lingering just a second too long as concern flickers in her eyes.

"How about an explanation for this?"

For a moment, you freeze under her touch, your breath catching as her fingers hovered near your skin.

The air around you feels charged, and the space between you seems to narrow further even though neither of you has moved.

Your hand rises slowly, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist as you guide her hand back down to her side.

The contact is soft but electric, sending a jolt through Natasha as the warmth of your skin ignites something inside her.

"You should see the other guy," you say lightly, trying to brush off her concern with a joke.

But the humor doesn’t quite reach your eyes as your smile fades, replaced by something more cautious, more guarded.

“I did,” Natasha responds seriously, her tone dropping as she locks eyes with you. She nodded toward Widow. "That’s what led me to find out about the bomb inside our little friend here."

Her gaze hardens, pinning you with an intensity that makes the tension between you spike.

“And I’m guessing the USB I left with that night…that was your doing too.”

Your expression falters, lips pressing into a thin, resigned line at her deduction. Eventually, you give her a slight nod.

“You’re as impressive as people say,” you compliment before tilting your head at her with a wry smile. “I guess I can’t blame the cat this time.”

Natasha’s gaze flicks back and forth between your eyes, searching, her frustration building with each passing second.

“You’ve already helped them steal the weapons by drawing attention away with those break-ins,” she says, her voice filled with a quiet, simmering anger. “So what now? Was that enough for them to leave you two alone?”

You look away, guilt flickering across your features before your gaze drops to Widow.

“It’s just one more job,” you whisper, almost to yourself. “One more, and then I’m done.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow, frustration building in her chest.

"How many times have you told yourself that?" she exclaims, her voice cutting through the night with a razor-sharp edge. "How many times have you convinced yourself it’s just one more?"

You give her a glare at her words.

“Oh, please, save the lecture,” you snap, your voice rough, your heart pounding with a mix of emotion. “Not everyone gets the luxury of forgetting their past and becoming a hero. Some of us don’t get a second chance.”

Silence settles between you as the tension grows unbearable, the air heavy with unresolved emotions.

Finally, Natasha reaches out, her fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jacket, pulling you closer.

Her eyes bore into yours, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine as she steps closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.

“You think I erased my past?” she asks, her breath fanning across your cheek. “You think I just forgot everything I’ve done? I live with that every day. But I chose to be better.”

She holds your gaze, hoping to convey the truth of her next words.

“You can too,” she whispers.

For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the heat between you palpable. Your hand hovers near her arm conflicted between pushing her away or pulling her closer.

Natasha’s eyes flicker with something deeper, a plea hidden behind her frustration as she waits for your response.

After a moment of silence, you finally give her a wry smile, touching her arm gently.

“That’s what makes you so amazing, Miss Black Widow,” you answer, your breath shallow as her overwhelming presence consumes your thoughts. It takes all your concentration to push through with your next words as you drop your hand from her.

“But I don’t have time for hope. This is about survival.”

Natasha’s eyes soften, and she takes another step closer.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispers, her lips inches from yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your gaze locks with hers, the charged tension hanging thickly in the air, unyielding.

You want to believe her, to let her in—but fear holds you back. You break the eye contact, looking away as the weight of your situation presses down on you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, the words heavy with unspoken regret.

Natasha’s hand slowly drops from your jacket, and she takes a step back, her heart aching at the refusal in your words.

In your arms, Widow let out a soft, sympathetic meow, as if sensing the pain in both of you. She turns her head toward Natasha, her wide eyes pleading as if asking her to do something.

The sight of the feline gives her an idea.

“If you don’t want me to help you, at least let me help her,” Natasha says, nodding toward Widow. Her voice is softer now, almost a plea.

You look down at Widow, considering her words, your teeth worrying your lower lip as you think it over.

Natasha’s eyes linger at the action for just a moment, but she quickly pulls her gaze back up when she remembers the boundary you’ve placed on your relationship.

“Okay,” you finally relent, holding your hand out to her. “For Widow. That’s it.”

Natasha’s hand meets yours, the warmth spreading between your palms as your fingers intertwine, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“For Widow,” she whispers, her eyes locked on yours with an unspoken promise.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thanks for reading! Your responses on this series are so nice. I'm glad to see that you are all enjoying it.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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lovemaybankk · 1 month ago

Text

sweet - part 2: rafe cameron x kook!reader (18+)

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

read part 1 here!

read part 3 here! (soon to be added)

inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡

summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.

word count: 4,012 words, should be proofread but pls feel free to comment regarding anything

author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)

warning: mdni, cursing, dub-con/non-con, coercive behaviour, degradation kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, masturbation

you and topper arrived at the wreck as your grandparents were settling into their favorite corner booth. the small, rustic restaurant was a local favorite, located near the water, with walls decorated in nautical-themed knickknacks and old photographs of fishing boats ran by the carerra's. the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, mixing with the faint saltiness of the nearby ocean breeze that wafted in through the open windows.

you slid into the booth next to topper, who was already immersed in his phone, only looking up to greet your grandparents with his usual charm. "morning, grandma. grandpa," he said, flashing a grin that immediately earned him their full attention.

when the food arrived, the table grew quieter, everyone focused on their pancakes and muffins. outside, the wind picked up slightly, rustling the palm fronds that framed the wreck’s front entrance. you found yourself glancing out the window, letting the rhythmic crashing of distant waves ground you. the warmth of the food, the laughter of your grandparents, and the quiet reassurance of a north carolina sunday morning made the coming out worth it.

as the plates were cleared and coffee cups refilled, your grandpa leaned over to ask about your plans for the week, his gentle curiosity pulling you back into the moment.

after the conversation with your grandpa was nearly finished about your plans and as the plates were being cleared, your mom looked up from her coffee and focused in on you. "so, y/n," she started, her tone casual but with an edge of curiosity, "topper mentioned you went out last night."

you froze for a second, your fork halfway to your mouth. topper, of course. "yes, i just went to grab food."

your dad chimed in, setting his mug down with a thud. "at that hour? with who?"

you hesitated, glancing briefly at topper, who had a smirk plastered across his face. you knew he was waiting to see how you’d explain. "rafe took me," you admitted, keeping your tone as neutral as possible, "he offered to since topper and kelce didn't."

that immediately caught their attention. your mom’s eyebrows shot up, and your dad leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "rafe cameron?" your mom asked, her voice clear with interest. "as in ward cameron’s son?"

"yes mom," you responded in a respectful manner.

your mom’s face lit up. “he’s such a good young man,” she said, glancing at your dad. “and their family—what a legacy. ward practically built half of figure eight.”

your dad (and grandparents) nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "ward’s done well for himself and his family."

your mom turned her focus back to you, her smile almost too wide. "and rafe, he’s such a gentleman to take you out like that." her attention turned towards topper, "really kind of your friend to look after your little sister.”

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping the conversation would not veer the way you had a feeling it would. you said quickly, "he just gave me a ride. that’s all."

but your mom wasn’t letting it go. "still," she insisted, "you could learn a lot from rafe, topper."

topper snorted, finally speaking up. "you have no idea who rafe cameron really is. you should see him when he’s out with us..." he shook his head, clearly amused, but your parents ignored him, too wrapped up in their admiration for the cameron family.

what did topper mean by that anyways?

your mom began to wrinkle her nose slightly, her smile faltering just a bit. "well, except for sarah," she added with a sharp edge to her tone. "i still don’t know what you ever saw in her, topper."

topper rolled his eyes, clearly irritated that the topic had shifted. "mom, we broke up ages ago. can you drop it?"

but she wasn’t letting it go, leaning forward as if to make her point crystal clear. "i’m just saying, she’s always been too self-centered, and frankly, she didn’t treat you the way you deserve. not to mention the way she ran around with those pogues after everything we did for her."

"okay, okay," topper cut her off, raising his hands in surrender. "we get it. can we move on now?"

your dad sighed, and your mom turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "you should thank rafe properly," your mom added as if it were a decree. "maybe cook for him as you usually do for us."

"sure mom," you muttered, desperate to end the conversation. topper caught your eye, his smirk growing wider, and you shot him a glare that only made him chuckle.

"as a matter of fact, kelce and rafe are staying over tonight," topper said casually, leaning back in his seat like it was no big deal.

"what?" you asked, your fork clattering against your plate. really, a night of dealing with topper’s friends taking over the house?

your parents exchanged a glance, "well, remember your father and i planned to be out of the island tonight, so you both must hold down the house. again y/n, maybe cook for them—and bake something too. it would be a lovely gesture to thank rafe for being so kind to you last night."

"wait, what? why can’t they just order in?" you protested, already dreading the responsibility they were about to shove onto you.

your mom gave you a pointed look, as if the answer were obvious. "because it’s more thoughtful if you put in the effort yourself, y/n. it’s the least you can do."

you resisted the urge to groan and before you could argue further, topper chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "exactly, y/n, make us something good please. rafe and kelce will appreciate it,” he said, but you could tell from his smirk that he was thinking about himself, not them.

"you mean you’ll appreciate it," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

topper shrugged, completely unbothered. "maybe. but hey, if it keeps you from ordering random takeout, i’m all for it."

you leaned back into your seat, realizing you had no way out of this. and it was "exactly what you needed" which was going to be a night of acting like a housekeeper to topper and friends, all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

or was that all the night would have in store?

there you were standing in the kitchen later that evening, the sound of pots clattering and the smell of something savory filling the air. the counter was currently full of ingredients like bags of flour, bottles of spices, and a carton of eggs you hadn’t realized you’d left open until one nearly rolled off the edge. with a sigh, you grabbed it just in time and muttered underneath your breath how you couldn't believe you had to do this right now.

you could hear laughter coming from the living room, where topper, kelce, and rafe were laid across the couches, clearly having a good time doing absolutely nothing. their voices carried through the house, a mix of jokes and conversation, completely oblivious to the effort you were putting in.

you stirred the pot of sauce on the stove, the wooden spoon clinking against the sides, wondering for the tenth time why you hadn’t just ordered a pizza and called it a day. but no, your parents, mostly your mom, had made it clear this had to be a gesture.

as the timer beeped for the roasted vegetables, you quickly pulled the tray out of the oven, the steam fogging up in your face. you glanced at the clock, realizing you’d been in the kitchen for over an hour now.

part of you felt satisfaction at how the meal resulted, but another part was abound at the fact that it was all for topper and his friends, who probably wouldn’t even say thank you. still, you couldn’t help but wonder if rafe might notice the effort.

with everything finally done, you set the table, begrudgingly arranging plates and silverware for the four of you. the food looked good enough to belong in a restaurant: pasta with a rich, velvety sauce, golden garlic knots, roasted vegetables glistening with olive oil, and the cookies you’d baked resting on a plate at the center of the table.

"dinner’s ready!" you called out loudly.

topper, kelce, and rafe strolled in from the living room, clearly in no rush. topper plopped down at the head of the table, immediately reaching for a garlic knot. "about time," he said with a grin. "i was starving."

"you’re welcome," you annoyingly muttered, sliding into a seat across from rafe, who gave you a small nod of acknowledgment.

kelce wasted no time piling food onto his plate, mumbling something about you being "the best cook." topper, of course, claimed most of the pasta, though he didn’t forget to make a snarky comment about how you probably "overdid the seasoning." you chose to focus on your plate instead.

rafe, on the other hand, served himself modestly, gave the food an appraising glance, and said, "this looks really good, y/n. thanks for making all this."

you blinked, caught off guard by the genuine tone in his voice. "of course," you replied and the small smile tugging at your lips gave you away.

as the four of you ate, the conversation circled around, mostly driven by topper and kelce’s usual banter. but every so often, you’d catch rafe glancing your way, and you couldn’t quite catch what to make of it.

as the meal went on, you couldn’t help but notice that while rafe had started with a small portion, he was subtly piling more onto his plate every time the conversation picked up.

by the time kelce and topper were too busy arguing over the last garlic knot, rafe’s plate was stacked high with pasta and vegetables, his casual demeanor masking how much he’d actually eaten. it was almost funny, watching him quietly load up while the others were too wrapped up in their banter to notice.

it was also adorable, really. the way he tried to act casual about it, like he wasn’t completely going back for seconds, thirds, and even fourths. you caught yourself smiling a little as you watched him scoop another helping of pasta, his expression neutral as if he wasn’t practically inhaling your cooking. the contrast between his polite words earlier and his quiet enthusiasm now made you feel a weird mix of pride and amusement. he genuinely seemed to enjoy your meal, and it was pretty endearing.

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of distant laughter and muffled music coming from the living room where topper, kelce, and rafe had set up. after dinner, you decided to retreat to your room, relieved to have a bit of peace and quiet. with a cozy blanket and a show you’d been meaning to catch up on, you let yourself relax, determined to stay out of their way for the night.

eventually, the night felt calm enough for you to get a snack.

rubbing your eyes and tugging on a random hoodie, you sneaked into the kitchen. the entire house was mostly dark, the glow from the stove light casting soft shadows over the counters. you opened the fridge, scanning for anything quick and easy. maybe a leftover cookie, maybe a fruit. you chose to instead for a container on the counter, a sound behind you made you pause. you turned and saw a tall figure leaning casually against the doorway.

"late night snack?" rafe’s voice was low and calm, carrying a faint trace of amusement.

"what are you doing up?" you muttered, still holding the container of cookies.

he shrugged, stepping into the kitchen, his movements unhurried. "couldn’t sleep. topper and kelce are snoring like chainsaws," he said with a small smirk. "thought i'd grab a drink."

you gestured toward the cabinet where the glasses were kept, "you remember where we have everything right?"

“yup, but thanks,” he said, but instead of grabbing a glass, he leaned against the counter, watching you with an easy gaze. "figured you’d had enough of us for one night?"

"trust me, i did," you replied dryly, taking a bite of a cookie. "but i got hungry."

his smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. "you know, you did not have to go all out earlier. dinner was super tasty," he said, his voice softer now.

you blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, especially with how he was suddenly looking at you. "thanks...i'm really happy you appreciated it," you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

he took another step closer. his hand brushed the counter near yours, his proximity making your heart race.

you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. his gaze flicked down to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"i meant it, you know," he said, his tone growing more thoughtful. "you’ve always had this… way of putting so much into everything you do. it’s something i’ve noticed for a long time."

his words hung in the air, heavy with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. you stared at him, seeing his expression was open and serious.

"you...really think that?" you asked, your voice quieter now.

"of course," he said, his gaze softening yet intensely on you. "you don’t see it, do you? how much you’re worth? the way you laugh, the way you stare, the way you care...even when your family does not even notice. but i do. i always have."

his words hit you hard, and you stared at him, his expression so open yet filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, making the space between you feel smaller than ever.

"rafe, i…" you began, but your voice faltered, with no idea how to respond to the pure honesty in his tone.

he let out a low, frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair as he stepped closer, his movements suddenly deliberate, charged. "god, you’re so oblivious," he muttered, shaking his head. "do you even realize how long i’ve wanted this? wanted you?"

his words stunned you, the heat behind them leaving you breathless. "rafe, i had-"

he interrupted as his hands gripped your waist tightly as he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing onto yours with a kind of intensity that left no room for hesitation. it was urgent, insistent, like he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t anymore.

you gasped against his lips, but his hold on you was steady and grounding. he took this opportunity to plunge his tongue into your mouth, and he swirled his tongue around to explore, while also urging yours to meet with his. your hands instinctively clutched at his shoulders, letting yourself sink into the kiss, meeting his passion with yours and succumbing to his touch.

"rafe, no.." you moaned out to him as he began to trail a path of kisses down your neck as he tightly groped your behind, making you loudly gasp. he suddenly came face to face with you again. looking intensely into your eyes, "tell me you do not want this. we can stop this all right now." you held your ground, your gaze locking with his, matching the intensity in his eyes without faltering.

"you want this as much as i do. or else you wouldn’t be here...like this." he abruptly grabbed your neck, cradling it from behind, and pulled you in closer to him as he cupped your lower breast, causing you to audibly whimper.

he let out a chuckle, the sound loud and clear in your face, "you know…i always thought, with seeing you around all the time… and i thought about how innocent you were."

"but look at you right now." he said in a quiet, raspy tone as he began to trail his fingertips down from your chest, embracing every little part of your torso until he reached the waistband of your pants.

you felt utterly grounded in place, having the strongest urge to speak back to him but at the same time, you felt your arousal rising through your body from his touch. you noticed a sudden pooling in your crotch and were tightly clenching your legs together, desperate for touch, his touch.

he looks down at you fully and traces his eyes up and down, savoring the sight of you being visibly hungry and needy for him. he finally focuses his glance to below your waist and he again, traced his touch down your crotch until he felt contact with the area that would send waves of pleasure through you.

you couldn't help yourself but have your mouth loudly gasp and whimper as he began to firmly rub his two fingers up and down your clit in measured movements. as your sounds tore through, his hand quickly shot out, harshly covering your mouth. his grip was resolute, quieting you instantly as his intense gaze locked onto yours. leaning in close, his voice dropped to a low and raspy whisper, completely with authority, "don't make a noise. you don't want your big brother to see you right now...right?"

"with my hands like this..." he maintained that relentless, steady pace, his gaze fixed intently on you. he watched every subtle movement of your body, every tremor and vibration that reverberated from your muffled sounds against his hand. his eyes never left you, taking in the way he pulled wave after wave of sensation through you.

he abruptly stopped, and a soft whimper escaped your lips, pleading for him to continue, to keep massaging your needy folds with the same rhythm. he lowered his face in front of your ears and said, "bend over right now."

you shook your head quickly at his words, your heart racing. You knew it was wrong—being here, being touched by your brother's best friend—regardless, a part of you couldn't resist him. deep down, you knew you wanted this too, all along.

he gripped your shoulders and forcefully pressed you forward until your torso met the surface of the kitchen counter. the pressure of his hand on your back kept you in place, leaving no room for resistance as he leaned in closer, his need for you visible.

"you want to know a secret?" he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper. you nodded, your curiosity piqued, heart beating faster with anticipation.

he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke, "i watched you that day." he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours, as though waiting for your response. you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"i was worried for you," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "i heard noises coming from your room when i was trying to go to the bathroom."

you looked up at him, the tension in his words had your heart racing.

"i came closer to take a look," he continued, his gaze flickering away for a moment before locking with yours again. "and I thought, 'is that what i think it is?' but i also thought, no, not topper's little sister."

his words hung in the air, heavy and full of uncertainty. he took a deep breath before he spoke again. "then i opened the door very, very quietly, and saw you." his eyes darkened slightly, the intensity of the moment shifting.

he started to pull your pants down in a swift motion, your body tensed, instinctively trying to push him away, but before you could react, he grabbed your wrists, locking them together with a grip so strong you couldn't pull free. he pinned them to the table, his hold unyielding. the pressure of his touch sent a wave of heat through you, making your breath catch in your throat as you struggled to regain control.

"i watched you touch yourself, rubbing your sweet cunt in gentle motions. your legs were wide open facing towards the door, like you wanted me to watch you."

he started to rub through your soaked panties, "like this. and i watched you cum, watched you fully release yourself...oh, i will forever remember that."

"but you know what really got me? what you moaned when you were cumming. you wanna repeat it for me right now?" he continued the pace of his strokes against your heat and although you knew what to say, you stayed there, taking him.

you jolted forward and loudly gasped, which echoed through the kitchen, after rafe slapped your cunt. he harshly said and continued to stroke your cunt in a pleasurefully steady motion, "repeat it right fucking now."

you moaned out loud for him, "rafe...". he released that chuckle of his as he lowered himself, balancing on his knees. he buries his face into your wet area, securing his grip on your plush skin, digging into you.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he stuck his tongue flat onto your folds, pressing it gently. his tongue sank into your hole, the overflowing juices moving around your folds as he explored deeper with his tongue.

he paused for a moment, savoring the sweetness, his eyes briefly closing in enjoyment. as he stroked you with his tongue, his jaw worked steadily, and he started to roughly suck your clit into his mouth, flooding your senses with intense pleasure.

you quickly bucked your hips backward onto his face, beginning to subtly grind your pussy into his wet mouth, as he continued to glide his tongue over your folds that were soaked. you wanted more, you needed more. you quietly whimpered to him, "that feels so good, rafe."

heat building inside of you, your breathless moans coming out ragged. your hands instinctively rotate behind you, clutching at his head, fingers tightly grabbing his hair. you were trying desperately to push him off, but it only made him buried himself deeper.

"rafe, please...i could-"

your body quivered through your climax, each wave of pleasure consuming you, as beneath you, he continued the steady pace of his wet tongue thrusting into your throbbing hole, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you and extending your climax.

"oh...yes, rafe!"

you moaned further as you felt the harsh sucking of him trying to taste all of you, and then the continuous licking through your folds to make sure he got all of it.

your body felt limp, the exhaustion from everything washing over you in waves. your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as you sank into the feeling of release. rafe noticed, his eyes softening for a moment before his usual smirk returned. he lifted you with ease, his arms strong and secure around you.

"couldn’t hold on, huh?" he murmured, his voice thick with both amusement and something else—something you couldn’t quite catch.

you barely managed to nod, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and something more in the air between you. he carried you effortlessly to your bedroom, each step deliberate as though he knew exactly what he was doing.

once inside, he lowered you gently onto the bed, making sure you were comfortable. his fingers lingered at your side, gently tucking the blanket around you, his touch soft yet deliberate. as he adjusted the covers, his eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the teasing edge in his expression softened.

he leaned down, his breath brushing against your skin, and placed a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead. the warmth of his lips lingered even after he pulled away, his gaze still fixed on you with a quiet intensity. "sleep well," he whispered, his voice low and tender, the weight of his presence settling in the room.

"get some rest," he said, but the tone of his voice shifted, carrying a teasing undertone. he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "but don’t think i'll let you off easy next time."

taglist! - @purplerose291, @o0itsjustme0o, @gillybear17, @l1ttlesstar, @10ava01, @frankoceanluvr11, @mattyskies, @my-name-is-baby, @ironmakerperfection, @cherry-coloureddfunk, @hoelesslyt, @crazylady20, @itsyourmanjuno

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yinemw · 2 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲

context: celebrating Gojo’s bday 🎂 (gender neutral reader)

warnings: mentioned sex

character: Gojo Satoru from JJK

m.list

3…2…1

“It’s my birthday!!” Satoru sits up in bed, the clock hitting 00:00 December 7th. Every. Single. Year. He did this every single time.

“Shhhh, it’s in the middle of the night” you mumble into the pillow, covering your head with the blanket and whining when the birthday boy dragged it right off you.

“I think you meant to say ‘happy birthday Satoru, you’re the best boyfriend ever and I love you so much’” he continued to disturb you, clearly much more awake than you. Eyes wide open, practically lighting up the dark room in a hue of blue.

“Yeah yeah, happy birthday” another mumble left your lips, eyes still closed. After a long mission that lasted several days, you finally had the opportunity to come home and rest. It wasn’t like you were intentionally ignoring Satoru for the first minute of his birthday, you were just too exhausted to stay awake.

Satoru pouted, laying back down on the bed. “No birthday sex?” Silence, until a soft snore left your parted lips. “Fine, no birthday sex” he spoke to himself, pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you. Sulking for a few minutes before falling asleep right after you.

“So, what type of party are we having this year?” Satoru asks excitedly, clasping his hands together, wide smile on his lips. You and Satoru had just arrived at the school, sitting together outside in the cool breeze of winter. Waiting for Shoko and Suguru to go on yet another mission.

“I’m sorry Toru, I’ve been so busy with missions I haven’t had time to plan anything” you smile apologetically, placing your hand on his thighs reassuringly. “After the mission today, we can go to a fancy restaurant and have dinner, okay?”

His smile falters a little, which you notice of course. But he quickly shook his disappointment off, glad you couldn’t see his eyes behind the blindfold. “You have reservations?”

“No, but I’m sure we can find a place that has a free table”

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Shoko and Suguru walked up to the two of you. A cigarette hanging loosely between Shoko’s lips as she greets you, Suguru only smiling as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket to feel some warmth.

Satoru stood up immediately, opening up his arms dramatically, awaiting a hug and birthday wishes from his two best friends. Standing there a few seconds, the two look at him confused.

“What?” Suguru asked dryly, tilting his head to the side as he watched his friend, still standing there with open arms. “Stretching before the mission?”

Satoru’s jaw practically hit the ground, he had never felt this insulted before. On his special day, not even a hug from the people he cared about most.

“Quit standing around, we have to keep moving to find this special grade curse” Shoko adds, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

The white haired man was honestly bamboozled, having to take off the blindfold to really look at the two. “It’s my birthday!” He yells, blue eyes wide as he turns to look at you as well, wanting at least someone else to understand his frustration and even sadness. But you only shrugged, which seemed to add to his disappointment.

“Oh? Must have forgotten, sorry Satoru” Suguru says nonchalantly, turning around and following Shoko who was already walking towards the street.

“Everyone’s been busy Toru, don’t take it personally” is all you say as you follow as well. Catching up to Suguru, the high five shared between the two of you going unnoticed by Satoru.

“Looks like he’s falling for it”

“Absolutely” you chuckle quietly, looking over your shoulder at Satoru. The way he stayed behind, kicking a few rocks on the ground and mumbling to himself, he had completely fallen into the trap. “I even pretended to be asleep when he asked for birthday sex, I think he’s been upset ever since”

“I did not need to know that”

The four of you continue your way to the abandoned building the special grade curse was spotted last. Or, where you, Shoko and Suguru had planted a curse as apart of the plan. Truth was, you had been planning Satoru’s birthday celebration weeks before, trying to come up with the perfect plan. You always wanted to try something new and fun to celebrate your boyfriend’s special day, realizing you had never actually done the whole surprise party before. Step 1 was to make sure Staoru didn’t see it coming, make him believe his friends forgot and it was just a mundane day for everyone. Safe to say you succeeded.

“Anyone else smell a sweet scent?” Satoru asks as he enters the dark room. Lifting his head and sniffing the air.

“Nope, just the black mold I’m pretty sure is growing all over this place” Shoko grimaces, walking over the rubble and entering the different rooms, pretending to look for the curse.

Before Satoru knew it, he was left alone. Wandering around the large building by himself. “Cant believe they forgot” he spoke to no one, arms crossed over his chest. “No birthday sex, no birthday wishes, no hugs, not even a cake! It’s not like I’m asking for much, I would have gladly eaten a store bought cake, could have even paid for it myself” he sighs as he walked into the room with the curse, coming face to face with the ugly creature.

“Can you belive it? My own friends didn’t remember my birthday” he explains to the curse (who didn’t seem to understand) and sitting down on one of the worn out chairs in the room. The curse aimed to attack, and Satoru easily dodged, seeming more upset over his birthday then the curse trying to kill him. “It’s not even about them forgetting, when I told them it’s my birthday they still didn’t wish me a happy birthday or apologize” the words leave his lips in a pout, finally standing up and walking over to the curse. “Might as well hollow purple the whole building”

“Do not hollow purple the building!!” You run into the room, having heard only the last part of his little rant.

“Why not, it’s a dump” not even a hint of smile of was on his face as he dusted his hands off. The curse dead behind him, lying on the floor. Even the tone of his voice had changed, he wanted you to understand he was upset, being overly dramatic to prove his point.

“Just, come on Satoru. Shoko and Suguru found the special grade downstairs, they need our help” your reach out your hand for him, and he places his hand into yours without hesitation. Yeah he was upset, yeah he was slightly hurt you didn’t seem to care it was his birthday. But it was still you. His everything.

Walking downstairs, it was pitch black, no source of light in sight. “Okay the sweet smell is definitely getting stronger— wait do I sense-”

“Happy birthday Gojo!!!”

Satoru’s eyes widen underneath the blindfold, a genuine smile on his lips as he turned around. All his friends and students gathered together with food and gifts just for him. A large banner over his head saying ‘happy birthday Gojo’. The room filled with confetti and colors, so unlike the upstairs of the abandoned building. The smell of cake and all of his favorite foods filling his nostrils as drool practically dripped down his chin.

“I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner” you giggle from beside him, letting go of his hand and nudging him forwards towards the others. Suguru standing there with open arms this time.

After talking with everyone, and stuffing his face with cake, he made his way back to you. “I have to admit, you definitely got me in the beginning” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and placing soft kisses all over your skin. “Thank you, everyone I care about is here and having fun. And they’re celebrating me!”

“Yes Toru, that is how a birthday usually goes” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. Looking into his eyes as he lifts his head. “Happy birthday my love”

Satoru leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, smiling into the kiss as he pulls you even closer in his arms. You could taste the sweetness of cake on his tongue.

“So, now that we’re officially celebrating my birthday, birthday sex?” He asks after pulling away from your lips, still holding you against him.

“Please, do that after the party” Suguru said from behind the two of you, holding a champagne glass in his hand as he cringes a little at the pda. “Everyone is waiting for you to open your presents as well Satoru, better not keep them waiting” he says as he turns around and joins the rest at the party.

“Presents! Right! Presents for me!” Already excited, Satoru jumped up and down before pulling you along with him. You can’t help but laugh, following after him as you hold his hand in yours. Glad to see your boyfriend was happy on his special day.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #Gojo satoru birthday #jjk satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #satoru fluff

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Text

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4

(König x F!Reader)

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^

AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…

The end of the world is here.

Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.

Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it.

Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?

. . .

The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.

She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.

“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits.

“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”

She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.

“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.

“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.

“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”

“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong.

Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.

The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch.

You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.

“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.

“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”

. . .

You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.

You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.

You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.

That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.

Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.

That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.

And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...

He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.

Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius.

A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight.

Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud.

Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child.

Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader.

Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air.

Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you.

You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream.

And he turns.

Death turns.

Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.

The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from.

The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–

No.

You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.

You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.

He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart.

You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.

“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him.

The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast.

He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual.

But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.

. . .

You are brought to his tent, screaming.

It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.

The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock.

Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.

You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.

He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…

You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood.

It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot.

The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should.

You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle.

The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.

“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.

“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.

“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.

“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.

Because there have been many omens in the air lately.

It’s just that none of them were portents of war.

The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless.

All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.

“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…

“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.

“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.

“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you.

And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?

He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself.

The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself.

Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.

“Müde?”

He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up.

To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.

His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know.

The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen.

This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.

Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.

He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good…

You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.

…

Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.

Translations

Nein, warte - No, wait

Schön - Beautiful

Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy

Sie redet - She talks

Du? - You?

Müde? - Tired?

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig #könig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #könig fluff #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig x female reader

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