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ldrfanatic · 11 months ago

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Oh Bella

Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them

cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)

slytherin boys masterlist works

warning - internet translated Italian

(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)

It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.

For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.

You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.

“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.

“What’s up Theo?”

“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”

In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.

“Still asleep, Bella?”

You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.

“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.

Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”

Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.

“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”

“Mmm of course, Theo.”

So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.

It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.

You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.

You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.

You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Ciao Bella.”

Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.

“Ciao Theo.”

The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.

Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.

“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)

“Nothing Theo, relax.”

He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.

The opportunity was too great to miss.

You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.

His reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.

“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”

(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)

A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.

A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.

The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.

You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.

“What’s wrong, bellissima?”

“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”

“Of course.”

He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.

Almost.

Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.

“Oh Bella.”

He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.

“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.

You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.

“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)

Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.

“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.

“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.

Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.

“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).

Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.

“Theo? I’m ready.”

By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.

“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”

(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)

You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.

“Fine! What?”

And that was how you found yourself in this situation.

Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.

“Oh Bella.”

Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”

“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.

Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”

You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”

Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.

You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.

+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots

April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.

Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.

Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.

You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.

By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.

“Oh Bella.”

It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.

Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.

“Una mattina mi sono alzato

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

Una mattina mi sono alzato

E ho trovato l'invasor.”

Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.

“O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir.”

The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.

“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”

You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.

“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”

In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #Italian Theodore Nott #slytherin boys x reader

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martiniluvr · 8 months ago

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18+ minors dni

1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy 💫

warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution 🩷

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.

dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.

B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

unsurprisingly, jason has some…issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.

dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.

C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.

let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.

D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.

this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.

E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.

we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).

F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.

dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.

G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesn’t treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.

dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.

H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.

dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.

I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.

he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.

J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.

dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.

K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.

say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant…now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.

L | Location (favorite places to do the do)

if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.

the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.

M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.

dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?

N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.

I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.

O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.

you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.

P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.

dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.

Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.

if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.

R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.

dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.

S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.

dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.

T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.

ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.

U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.

dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.

V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.

dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.

W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).

dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.

X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.

‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips…you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.

Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens…often.

dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.

Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.

he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.

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artdcnaldson · 6 months ago

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okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut

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whorelaud · 4 days ago

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loser!bf!Rafe getting jealous after he discovers you have another man's name as your phone password. contains soft rafe, jealousy & tooth rotting fluff, wc; 747 a/n this is a repost oops

“Hey, baby, can I borrow your phone for a moment?” Your boyfriend’s voice erupted through your ears, earning your attention as you adjusted the falsies around your eye, too accompanied with the action to acknowledge the boy hovering behind you, staring at you through the reflection of the mirror.

“Mhm,” you cooed, lips parting with concentration. “It’s on the nightstand.” The boy nodded, instantly retrieving your phone from your side of the bed, approaching you once again, this time with the intention of unlocking it. He adjusted the device in front of your face, in an attempt to use face ID, his plan backfiring when your phone lit with the ‘password required’ screen.

“What’s your password?” He clicked his teeth, leaning his weight against the desk, his figure filling the majority of your view. His fingers soared over the screen, while he patiently waited for you to finish applying your lashes.

“Luvdrew,” you replied, causing the boy to come to a halt, his expression twisting with puzzlement. “But instead of the e, type in a three.”

“Luvdrew?” He questioned, ridiculed by your response. “Who the fuck is Drew?” Your gaze shifted back to bim, dumbfounded by the bitterness seeping through his voice, confused by the sudden change in his tone.

“Oh, Drew Starkey,” you continued, flashing him a smile, oblivious to how casual you were making the conversation seem, upsetting Rafe even more. “You’ve never heard of him? He used to be my celebrity crush.”

“And you have him as your password? What, you think about him every time you unlock your phone?” His face fumed with annoyance, not failing to hide it as he clicked his teeth, tossing your phone back on the desk. “I don’t even want to use your phone anymore, let that Drew guy use it instead.”

“What?!” You started, a soft chuckle knocking out of your chest, fully abandoning your makeup on the desk, attention fixing on Rafe, whose face expressed nothing but sulkiness. “Are you jealous?!”

“No!” He spat back, eyebrows curling with frustration. “Why would I be jealous because you have another man’s name as your password, when you clearly have a boyfriend?!”

“You are jealous.” You snickered, getting up from your seat. You leveled your face with Rafe’s, tilting his head with a hand to his chin. He avoided your gaze, brushing off the touch as he seized his head down in his lap, not giving in to your coy gesture. “Look at me, I’m sorry! I’ve had it for a while, before we even dated, I must’ve forgotten to change it. I’m sorry! He’s a literal celebrity, baby.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, resisting the hand engulfing the curve of his jaw. “Go be with Drew, maybe he’ll treat you better, since I’m not good enough for you.”

“Rafe!” You shot back, surprised by his stubborn attitude. “Why are you acting like this, I’m sorry.” You pecked the corner of his lips, mimicking your action when he angled his head to the side, a silent invitation for you to continue kissing him. You littered open-mouthed kisses to his mouth, chest swelling with pride when the latter smiled, pressing his lips into a thin line to hold himself back from further giving into your compelling. “There you go, don’t sulk with me, you know I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He mumbled in between kisses, lingering for a moment when you captured his lips in between your own, his moving over yours in an attempt to deepen it. His hands sneaked around your waist, sandwiching you with his legs to keep you in place. “I love you too, I guess.”

“You guess?” You shrugged, “I’ll change my password to luvrafe, there, are you happy?” You muttered, leaning your head back when Rafe chased after your lips, desperate to kiss you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, hesitating to mutter his next statement. “So… is that Drew guy more attractive than me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No one is more attractive than you, you’re the most handsome man on earth.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head to the side, amused by your response, seeking more of your attention. ��What else?”

“Oh, don't get cocky with me.” You teased, grinning from ear to ear. You tilted your head to the side, your next sentence an attempt to rile him up. “You know, I might’ve exaggerated, Drew’s an attractive g–”

“Fuck off!” He interrupted your sentence before you could further speak. “I’m done with you.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey #outer banks

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ienjoywritingfilth · 5 months ago

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a sinner i am

If its so wrong, why does it feel so good?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader summary: Your boyfriend Shawn Miller and his dad Joel bring you along to Hawaii for Christmas vacation. Things don't go as planned.

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, slowishh burn, kissing, grinding, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.8k

wanna see my other stuff?

part i : takeoff

The best things in life are the people we love, the places we’ve been, and all the memories we’ve made along the way. - author unknown

"Loving him is a sin; of that I'm fully aware. But a sinner I am." - Bella Jewel

Your boyfriend Shawn brings over two iced coffees as the two of you work on a crossword together at your local coffee shop. You have been filling in the squares quickly.

"Thanks babe," you say warmly as you take the coffee from him. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking a seat next to you.

"Damn, you're fast this mornin'," he says when he sees all you've filled in. It's a tradition for the two of you; weekend crosswords over coffee. It's nice. It's domestic.

It's a little boring.

You're college sweethearts who met your sophomore year and have been inseparable since. And while the love is still very much there the butterflies have unfortunately been hibernating for a while.

It's normal, you tell yourself when you sometimes zone out during sex. It's normal when you've been together with someone so long.

"It's so nice to be doing this instead of college essays," you say.

"Fuck yeah it is."

This is your first summer of freedom without the threat of schoolwork looming in the near distance. Shawn is starting his master's in the fall and you've just accepted a position at the local museum.

“Just think I’ll actually be able to enjoy Christmas this year,” you tease. “Unlike someone who’ll be working on essays.”

“Hey now,” Shawn says with mock offence. “I’ll be able to enjoy my Christmas just fine. Actually, my dad wants to celebrate Christmas somewhere warm this year. He's talkin' about some resort in Hawaii."

Shawn comes from money, the son of the infamous Joel Miller of The Miller Company, the premiere construction firm in Texas. This means expensive vacations, nice cars, all of that is normal for him. You meanwhile have had to work hard for everything you have.

Being left behind at Christmas seems strangely unkind for the normally thoughtful head of the Miller family. Shawn's dad has always treated you like one of the family so this news is unexpected.

"Have a great time," you say trying not to be jealous. "Bring me back some chocolate macadamia nuts."

You can admit that even though both Shawn and his father are humble, kind men, you're always a bit bitter that they live so nicely. Leaving you out of their holiday vacation seems especially unkind.

"He's taking both of us babe," Shawn says with a grin. "You think he's gonna leave you behind on Christmas? After you’ve spent the last six with us?"

Christmas in Hawaii? Is this a dream? Your pencil lays forgotten on the table as you gape open-jawed at your boyfriend.

"Are you serious?"

"Babe," Shawn says meaningfully. "My dad likes you better than he likes me. Of course you're invited."

You've always gotten along with Joel. It's impossible not to. He's friendly, funny and charming. There's a reason he's good at his job. And you're a good girl, a kind girlfriend to his son with clear career ambitions.

A smile breaks out over your features and you pull Shawn into a tight hug. He chuckles, embracing you back, kissing your cheek.

"Make sure you don’t overpack, okay?" He murmurs in your ear as you giggle. “I don’t feel like helping you haul six bags of shoes for a week-long trip.”

Thoughts of lounging by the pool with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other while the Hawaiian sun beats down on you is all too enticing. You kiss him fiercely, imagining the time together.

"I can't wait."

The two of you finish the crossword puzzle all the while talking about the drinks and food and the excursions you'll both take.

"Maybe once I've got a handle on school we can think about findin' an apartment in the new year," Shawn broaches, his hand over yours.

Sex fades, but this? This domestic stuff you have with Shawn? That's special. That's love.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He gives you a smile, that dimple poking out of his cheek that makes you swoon.

"Ready to go?" Shawn asks, extending his hand to you when your coffees are drained.

"Yeah," you say with your hand taking his. "Let's go."

When December twentieth announces itself with a thunderstorm you couldn’t care less because you’re at the airport. Your large rolling bag bag is stuffed with cute outfits, swimsuits and even some snorkelling gear.

"Feels like you got a dead body in here," Shawn laughs as he struggles with the two bags, handing you yours before swinging an arm around your shoulders.

"I wanted to be prepared."

"Let's go my little Girl Scout," he laughs with a gentle kiss to your temple. You both check in and then find your boarding gate.

"I'm gonna grab breakfast, you want anything?" Shawn asks as he parks you and the suitcases by the gate full of noisy travellers.

"Nah, I'm good."

Shawn jogs off in the direction of a Starbucks you passed on your way in.

Out the larger windows you can see planes taking off. You've never flown before; you thought that you'd be excited. But at the first view of those planes out the window you feel your stomach drop.

They’re so big and bulky. How does it fly properly? It couldn’t. What if people shift around too much in their seats? Surely this can’t be a safe form of travel!

You pull out your phone, distracting yourself with a game. You try for several moments but your eyes keep being drawn to the huge planes outside. You grimace, wondering if you should have gotten your doctor to prescribe you something for anxiety.

"Cheer up," a voice says. "You look like you're goin' to prison, not a five star resort."

You glance over to see Shawn's dad, Joel, at the other side of you, an amused look on his handsome face. He's wearing jeans and a faded grey Longhorns t-shirt. You're momentarily thrown as normally you see him in dress pants and button downs for work.

"I'm excited for the resort, just not the giant metal death box hurling through the air that is my only means of getting there."

"Touche."

Shawn jokes about Joel liking you better then he likes him, but the truth is you and Joel are very similar. Your senses of humour, your ability to read people, your tendency to see the worst in people before they prove themselves worthy.

Shawn is more like his mom, sweet and naive at times, always seeing the good in people. It's ironic considering which parent stuck around to raise him and which one escaped the country six years after Shawn was born.

Joel takes the empty seat next to you, his kneecap kissing yours as he pulls out his phone.

"Never flown before," you explain.

"Ah, I see," Joel puts his phone in his pocket, his attention fully fixed on your face. "Well what if I told you it's actually the safest way to travel?"

"I'd call you a liar."

Joel chuckles richly, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing as he laughs.

"I promise you, I wouldn't take you on anything unsafe. And if all that's not good enough, you'll have Shawn beside you holding your hand the whole time."

You grin at that, nodding. The thought of Shawn being there does help your anxiety. Joel smiles back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Thank you so much for inviting me along in this trip, Joel. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii."

"S'a beautiful place," Joel nods. "And you don't need to thank me. You're practically family at this point."

Shawn returns with a muffin and two coffees in hand.

"Hey dad, got you a coffee," Shawn says handing it to his father.

"Thanks," Joel says gratefully. Just then the intercom alert sounds

"Good afternoon passengers.This is the announcement for flight 82B for Oahu, Hawaii. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

“That’s us.”

The lineup goes uncomfortably fast. You stand beside Sean who is talking to Joel behind you, the two of them deep in conversation about football, a subject you couldn't care less about. You are still too preoccupied with the flight, being surrounded by almost all strangers sailing through the sky.

You're not a fan of heights. So when you get to the door of the plane you hesitate, willing your foot to move. When it doesn't and the flight attendants shoot you a confused look, you feel yourself start to panic.

Shawn has gone on ahead to grab your seats and place your carry-on bag in the overhead bin, not noticing that you're not behind him. A large hand flies to the small of your back, a comforting gesture. Joel. He rubs there, soothing you.

"You'll be okay darlin'," he rumbles in your ear. "Remember, it’s safer than drivin' a car."

“Liar.”

Joel’s deep chuckle makes you grin and you allow Joel to gently prod you onto the plane, shooting the waiting attendants grateful looks for their patience. He takes his seat near the front, watching as you make your way to your seat next to Shawn. As you buckle in a thought occurs to you and you move your voice to a whisper.

"Isn't it gonna be kinda weird with us being there all week with just your dad? I mean, sharing the place and all?"

"Nah, he made sure the rooms were far apart. Plus, he invited his girlfriend to come along so I doubt we'll see much of him."

Joel is a chronic workaholic, often pulling late nights and working on his phone. You’ve seen him out and about with beautiful women at the events Shawn takes you to but never formally dating them. You always assumed to be a lifelong bachelor. You wouldn't blame him, especially after what he's been through with Shawn's mother.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend," you say honestly. "Good for him."

"A couple months now," your boyfriend tells you. "You know my dad, mister private. But he took me to dinner and told me about her so I think he's getting serious."

"That's really sweet," you say honestly. You want nothing but the best for him.

All of a sudden the plane starts to jiggle, sending people stumbling down the aisles and others gasping in surprise. You reach over and grab Shawn's hand, trying to regulate your breathing.

"Not so tight, babe," Shawn complains before gently sliding his hand from under yours. "You scratched me with your nails."

"Sorry," you mumble, eyes closed as the jostling of the plane continues.

You tighten your seat belt before gripping the seat arms so tightly that your knuckles are white. Sean squeezes your kneecap, murmuring that everything will be okay and that you’re safe. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing sounds of his words.

Eventually the plane enters smooth skies and the seat belt sign is turned off. Despite this you remain keyed up, sitting stiffly as Shawn fades into a nap.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You crack open an eye to see a beautiful redheaded flight attendant bending down towards you with a glass of what appears to be whisky in her hand. She extends it towards you and you take it confused.

"This is from the gentleman in A-1. He says to take this and you'll be relaxed for the rest of the flight."

You look up a few rows to see Joel giving you a brief wave. You thank the women before raising it towards Joel in a Cheers motion.

Drink it. Joel mouths.

Yes, sir. You mouth back complete with a stiff fake salute before tossing back the drink.

He grins at you before settling back in his seat.

The drink does the job.

"Here we are."

The cab drops the three of you in front of the beach resort. When you step out the air is fragrant with the scent of flowers. You wait while Joel checks you all in before he's back, motioning for you both to follow.

There's the main section of the resort with luxurious hotel rooms. The more secluded section contains a variety of self contained houses that dot the waterfront. Its reserved for people who have unlimited credit card limits and drive cars that cost more than your parents first home.

When you arrive to your unit, your eyes are ready to bug out of your head. It's massive, as far as vacation rentals go. When you all step into the air conditioned unit you have to take a moment to take it all in.

The beach house is beautiful with floor to ceiling windows, stunning tile floors and tasteful furniture. All of this is topped off with spectacular views of the beach outside your door.

A plate of sliced pineapple and chilled wine sits on the kitchen table, along with a note that Joel reads when he wanders over.

"Welcome note," he explains when he sees you looking at it. "I knew the owner back in trade school."

You and Shawn nod, your boyfriends hand trailing down your back gently. It's much the same as what Joel did back at the airplane, but it feels different. You trail your suitcase behind you hearing the clack of it against the stone floor as you move around the room.

"Wow."

It's all you can utter as the three of you tour the rest of the unit. There’s a simple kitchen with an expensive looking coffee machine and a brand new bag of kona coffee waiting to be used. The living room holds a table and four chairs, a few board games and a list of nearby places to visit along with the wifi code. The couch is simple, placed in front of a large television that you’re sure you won’t use.

"My bedrooms on the right," Joel tells you both. "Yours it's on the left. We're sharin’ a bathroom, sorry about that. Pretty common in these places."

Who cares about sharing a bathroom when you're in one of the most beautiful places you've ever been? Even the bathroom is beautiful with its high waterfall shower head and sleek marble. This place must have cost a fortune for the week.

Joel encourages you both to take a look at your room down the hall and you don't hesitate to take Shawn's hand, dragging him there. Shawn pushes open the door to the bedroom and you can't hold in your shriek.

"Holy shit! It's gorgeous!"

The big windows overlook the ocean, the late afternoon beach beckoning to you. The bed is large and plush with white sheets, and framed prints of Oahu sunsets. Its spacious, the bed so large it looks like two giant beds pushed together. The closet is spacious and boats dozens of wood coat hangers.

“Wood, because it’s classy,” you tell Shawn in amusement who is already unpacking his suitcase while you continue to stare in a daze.

"You like it?"

Joel is standing at the door frame, a shoulder balanced against it, watching you take it all in. He's smiling at you in that gentle, sweet way of his that makes you feel cared for.

You're suddenly overcome with gratitude and you streak over to him.

"Thank you, Joel!" You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever been."

Joel laughs along with Shawn at your embrace and enthusiasm, holding you around the middle and hoisting you in his arms. Your face presses into his neck as he squeezes you, and the scent of leather and sandalwood envelops you.

You've never really hugged Joel before. Maybe a polite side hug during family events, a high-five during baseball games and even once a hard push to his shoulder when he made fun of you for being afraid of a spider that had gotten into the house.

But you've never had your front pressed to his, never really felt the muscles of his back and arms, seen the tendons in his neck or realized just how big his hands are when they squeeze your waist before lowering you.

"I guess that means you like it," he says, red-faced. You pull back, embarrassed at your overzealous response.

Shawn and his dad are very similar in their looks. Except Shawn is clean-shaven while Joel has a beard and Shawn's eyes are hazel like his mom's while Joel's are the darkest brown you've ever seen. You've never really noticed how dark until this very moment.

You shoot him a cheery thank you again before smiling and skipping over to Shawn announcing that you'll unpack as well.

"You two enjoy, I gotta make a few calls but then we can head out to dinner."

"Sounds great," Shawn says as he searches for his phone charger.

Joel closes the door behind him and you turn to your boyfriend. You can't explain it but you feel turned on. The Hawaiian air must be doing something to you because

You crawl towards where he kneels unpacking. You grin, feeling the pulse of desire hitting you below the navel. You kneel beside him, dropping your voice to a husky murmur.

"Should we break the bed in?"

An hour later the three of you are sitting at a local eatery. Joel and Shawn are talking with one another while you scan the busy restaurant.

Couples, families, all laughing and cheerful. And why wouldn't they? This is Paradise after all. But you don't feel anything like it, if anything, you feel like a little black rain cloud.

Shawn turned down your earlier advances, citing that he was too tired. The problem is for the past three months Shawn has been too tired most of the time. At first he blamed grad school but when you pointed out he still made lots of time for gaming with best friends Brian and Kevin he'd been quick to explain that gaming relaxed him.

That conversation had gone over about as well as a turd in the punch bowl. You remember being so hurt at what you felt was a slight against you. Weren't you relaxing? Weren't you something that made him happy?

So yeah, you had hoped that this little vacation might stir some of that old spark back. But maybe you were too eager. You had just arrived at the place after all. Maybe you were being unfair. Still, the rejection stung.

"Thought we could do all the tourist-y shit while we're here," Joel says after you've all placed your orders. "Luau, sunset cruise."

"Snorkelling?" Shawn offers.

"Hell yes," Joel nods grinning. "ATV tour too."

The Millers like to have fun. They also like to keep busy. It's like second nature to them to be off on adventures or activities. You meanwhile plan on spending lots of time by the pool or the beach, reading and drinking.

"What about you, darlin'?" Joel asks between sips of whisky. "What're you hopin' to do?"

You know exactly what. The thing you've been dying to do since you were a kid at the aquarium.

"I wanna swim with the turtles."

Shawn bursts into amused laughter beside you, and if you weren't already irritated with him before, you certainly are now. He grins at you not understanding that you're secretly furious with him.

"Turtles? Really?"

"What's wrong with turtles?"

"Seems kinda babyish doesn't it?"

"What's babyish about liking animals?" Joel cuts in. "You forgetting about the time we wouldn't let you in the petting zoo and you threw your shoe at me?"

"I was five, dad."

"Yeah well, some things don't change," Joel says with a smirk. "Still throwin' tantrums when you don't get your way."

"Fuck off old man," Shawn says through chuckles. “Don’t forget I’m your only child. I pick which retirement home I’m gonna stick you in when your mind goes.”

“Little bastard,” Joel mutters, trying to hold back a loud laugh.

He settles for tossing a drink umbrella in Shawn’s direction, chuckling when Shawn dodges it easily. You can't help but laugh along with him, your bad mood fading.

By the time dessert arrives you're all several glasses of wine in reminiscing about Shawn's last attempt at surfing.

"I've gotten better," he exclaims. “I swear.”

"Yeah well we'll see about that," Joel says paying the check. "Alright team, let's head back and get some shut eye. This old man needs it."

You roll your eyes at that. Joel isn't even fifty and even if he was he's about the best looking man his age bracket and younger. You've seen the way women stare at him, whispering, blushing when he looks their way. He is not what you’d qualify as old.

The three of you arrive back at the unit to the sound of nighttime creatures croaking and buzzing.

"Alright I'll meet you two out here tomorrow morning around nine. We can go to the excursion desk and plan the week. Sound good?"

"Sounds good, night Dad."

"Night Joel."

The three of you part ways into the opposite bedrooms. Shawn nuzzles your neck gently kissing there. He always does that when he's been drinking. You smile delightedly at this, eager to get into bed.

When the lights are off and the two of you have slipped off your clothes and under the covers you roll towards him, peppering his face with soft kisses.

"It's late, babe," he murmurs, kissing you sweetly but with finality.

"We're on vacation," you remind him, slipping your hand under his boxers.

You feel him slowly start to harden in your grip. You hear his breath hitch and you smile, knowing those sounds so intimately. You tug off your panties and slide onto his lap, preparing to ride him.

"Fuck me," you whisper, hips grinding against his. "Wanna feel your cock in me."

“Baby, no.”

Shawn pulls you off of him and you tumble into the bed next to him, feeling your cheeks grow hot with humiliation.

"My dad is right across the hall," Shawn hisses. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

Rejection never sits well with you and immediately you feel yourself growing defensive.

"You're dad is gonna be across the hall the whole week, Shawn,” you whisper angrily. “So what, we're not going to have fuck this entire trip?"

"We'll have sex," Shawn said rolling his eyes. "Just not when my dad is ten feet away sharing a fuckin' bathroom with us."

Bullshit. Another excuse to put off the intimacy that’s been dwindling for months. You push yourself from the bed, tugging on your dress from earlier. Shawn leans up on his elbows, giving you a look of concern.

"Where are you going?"

"A walk."

"I'll c---"

"No," you say sharp as a knife. "I want to go alone."

You stalk out of the house, eyes glossy with hurt and anger. That's the thing they don't tell you about relationships that have gone on so long -- both partners need to work to keep the fires going.

You make your way to the beach along the softly lit pathway. Its well after midnight and the resort is quiet; the lights dimmed or off entirely. You take a seat on a nearby rock, listening to the gentle sound of the evening waters lapping by the shore. You're very excited to go swimming tomorrow. To feel the warm sand underneath your feet.

You can hear noise coming from the far end of the resort. You remember over dinner Joel going through the resort map on his phone, letting you know what amenities they had. He had told you both about the dance club the resort had.

Shawn had immediately laughed, stating that he’d take a pass on it. Shawn hates dancing. You tried to get him to do dance lessons with you once but he wouldn't even give it a shot.

Right now it seems all you can do is focus on Sean's flaws. You know that he's a decent man, you know the treats you well, but there are these bugaboos these irritants that can't help frustrate you right now.

"Fuck it," you murmur to yourself, raising yourself from the sand and brushing it from your sundress. You follow the sound of the music, stopping in front of a door with blinking lights. A man in a blue Hawaiian shirt smiles at you when you approach.

"Aloha, may I ask your Unit number?"

"Number 4, under Miller."

The man types into his computer before nodding, opening the door for you. You step into the darkness, letting your eyes adjust to the blue lights and colourful dance floor. The speakers are playing typical vacation music with a heavy bass.

Bodies writhe on the dance floor, half naked in revealing dresses or in the men's case, unbuttoned shirts. You order a drink at the bar, taking it with you as you scout the area for a free chair. A hand on your wrist surprises you.

"Joel?"

Joel is seated at one of the small circle tables nursing what appears to be a tumbler of Scotch. He motions for you to take the free chair next to him and you do gratefully falling into it, your arm bumping his.

"What are you doin' here? Since when does Shawn dance?" He asks over the bass, grinning. He looks a bit tipsy, his neck red.

"He doesn't, I'm here alone. I needed to blow off some steam," you tell him over the music.

"Me too," he says loudly back. "Couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess."

You nod, looking back at the dance floor wistfully. Everyone looks like they're having such a fun time, their worries and concerns far away from them as they undulate to the rhythm of the music. Joel takes another sip of his drink, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

You wish Shawn was here with you, you wish he was spinning you around on the dance floor. You wish it was like those early years where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

"You and Shawn doin' okay?"

Joel's voice cuts into your confusing thoughts. You glance his way.

"Why do you ask?"

"Cuz I'm a dad," Joel. "And I've been married. And I know what tension between two people looks like."

You sigh heavily, your mind drifting to earlier. You don’t answer Joel because what would you tell him? You can’t tell your boyfriend’s dad that you’re worried his son is growing distant. You can’t tell him that your sex life has been disintegrating for the past several months. Instead you just shrug.

"You two talked about marriage?"

"What? No.”

You and Shawn have been together a long time, but you have no intention of settling down anytime soon. Sean is still doing his masters and you're loving your job at the museum.

"Good. No, not like that," Joel amends when he sees your stricken expression. "I just mean you're both so young."

"You were younger than us when you got married.”

"Yeah and look where that got me," he says with a scoff.

"Yeah, well, I think it's just been a long time and we're hitting a rough patch. Nothing we can't overcome," you add quickly. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Joel nods. "I know."

The two of you lapse into silence, watching the twirling, shouting, laughing people swan around you. You shouldn’t be glum, you should be experiencing life!

"You wanna dance?"

His voice is low and husky in your ear. You start, surprised to see Joel inches from your face. You know he's speaking so close to you because it's so loud in here, but it doesn't stop your pulse from ticking at the shock.

"Don't really know how.”

"Shit reason. C'mon."

Joel throws back the rest of his drink and drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh as he spins you, both of you almost knocking into an older couple who are taking the dance very seriously. They shoot you both a nasty look and you and Joel have to work hard to muffle your laughter.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head, spinning you again but closer to him. "I'm too charmin’."

"You think pretty highly of yourself don't you?"

Joel shrugs, laughing as the song ends. Another quick one begins and Joel looks serious.

"I'm gonna teach you some moves Shawn's mom taught me."

"Okay."

You're surprised, he doesn't really mention Shawn's mother very often.

You watch as Joel attempts to teach you some simple dance moves. You don't know if it's the stuffy club, the drinks running through your veins or the fact that you're dancing with your boyfriend's dad, but you can't really focus on the steps.

"I give up," you moan after the fifth failed attempt at a two-step.

"You ain't a quitter," Joel assures you, trying to spin you slowly so you can get your footing.

You never realized that Joel was such a good dancer. Watching him move his tall body is strangely hypnotizing, mainly because you never expected a man that broad and muscular to move so fluidly.

"Atta girl," he says proudly when you get some of the footing correct.

You smirk when you see the women nearby watching him, shooting him smiles. But his focus is on you, teaching you the moves and assuring you: it's alright darlin', we'll get you there just take your time.

You're having so much fun with him you barely realize that an hour has gone by and you can only tell when you realize the back of your neck is damp with sweat.

You're about to announce your heading back to the unit when the beat slows and many trickle off the dance floor. It's a slow song, and only the couples remain in the glowing dance floor.

You go to step off when you feel Joel spin you again, back into his arms. You smile breathlessly up at him, the two of you shiny from perspiration from the dancing and the warm crowded space.

Joel is looking at you strangely, his eyes luminous in the reflection of the twinkling club lights. When he slides a hand at your lower back and urges your hands around his neck you don't hesitate. You lace your fingers there, shifting from foot to foot.

You feel strange to be dancing with Joel. And not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, it's the opposite, actually. You feel almost too comfortable. Joel’s eyes are trailing over your face, sometimes highlighted by the flash of the DJ’s lights.

“You talked to Shawn about all that’s botherin’ you and this rough patch?” Joel asks out of nowhere.

He looks vulnerable; unlike the Joel you know who is all smiles and jokes.

“Kinda,” you say shyly, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just hard. . . We can both get pretty defensive. Plus, I wonder if I’m maybe being unfair. He’s in school and everything.”

“Uh huh, and you started that museum job didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty demanding job, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Joel gives you a look as he rocks you both from side to side

“Can I say somethin’ you might not wanna hear?”

You nod.

“In my experience, it takes two people to make a relationship. Not one puttin’ in all the effort while the other one has his or her head in the sand.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. The song ends and Joel releases his hands you’re your waist before he announces he has to hit the washroom. You head to the bar for a glass of water and to wait for him.

"Hi beautiful."

An Australian man around Joel's age with a moustache is leaning against the bar next to you. His eyes are bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks ruddy. He’s obviously very drunk. You give a forced smile before going back to wait for your water.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks," you answer quickly. "Just getting water."

"How about a dance then?"

"I'm good," you say forcing a polite smile. You’re facing away from him, eyes on the bartender hoping he notices you.

"C'mon beautiful," the man insists, eyes sliding over your chest in a very obvious way. "I'm a good dancer too. Could give you lots of lessons."

"She said no."

Joel's voice is there, having clearly come back from the bathroom. You step backwards and before you know it Joel is sliding his arm protectively around you. You glance up to see Joel's face contorted into a mask of fury. His teeth are bared like some wild animal and he grips you tightly to him.

"Sorry man," The guy says holding his hands up in surrender towards Joel. "Didn't know she was taken."

Joel sneers before leading you out of the club. The cool air is a welcome reprieve when you step outside, breathing deeply.

"That place is nothin' but perverts," Joel growls as the two of you make your way back along the beach in the direction of your unit.

"Joel, you were there," you say giggling. "That make you a pervert?"

"Ha ha."

You walk quietly along the shoreline, confused as to how you can feel this good when just an hour ago it felt like everything was falling apart. Maybe it’s the drink in your veins, maybe its Hawaii, or maybe it’s just Joel.

"Watch it--"

Joel takes your hand when you stumble over a rock in the semi darkness. You let him, not dropping it even when your walking evens out. It feels nice to walk hand in hand with him, it feels safe. He doesn't let go of your hand either as you continue along, your shoes making dual footprints in the sand.

"Thanks for in there," you say. “I hate creepy guys like that.”

"Was nothin'," he says, then he drops your hand after a moment. "Shawn would have done the same."

"No, he wouldn't have."

It slips out before you can stop yourself. Joel stops in the sand, his concern there in his face. It’s clear that what you’ve said has upset him.

"What?"

"He doesn't like confrontation, you know that," you say with a shrug. "And I like that about him."

"You do?" Joel challenges. "Really?"

"Sometimes."

Honestly you’ve never enjoyed the men who start fights for no reason, who act like cavemen when someone looks at their girlfriend. Shawn is too smart for that, too above it to engage with assholes like that. But you have to admit that there was a part of you that found Joel’s actions inside the club to be a bit attractive. Is that the word? Would you really call your boyfriend’s father attractive?

You look at him standing there, his grey t-shirt clinging to his muscles and wide shoulders, the muscular thighs in denim and you think, fuck, yeah he is attractive. You knew he wasn’t ugly, you’d just never looked at him like that. Like he was a man outside of being Shawn’s dad.

"I come from a time when you take care of what's yours." Joel runs a hand through his messy curls. "If you were mine I wouldn't let anyone talk to you the way that man did, let alone touch you."

If you were mine.

You can't understand why but you're nipples tighten under your dress at those words. The possessiveness in Joel's voice is so dark and husky. He’s looking off into the dark like he’s really upset.

"If I was yours," you murmur.

His glazed eyes move from the beach over to your face. You’re standing so close to one another and you can see his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathes. His scotch-coated breath huffs over your cheeks and you swear you’re getting drunker just inhaling it.

You must be, because why else would you be putting your hands on his shoulders. Why else would you be pressing your mouth to his? Why else would you be tracing his plush lips with your tongue and whimpering when he groans into your parted mouth?

And he must be drunk because he doesn’t pull away or hesitate. He dips his head and his hands wrap around your waist, bringing your body against him tightly. His palms slide over your skin, desperate to touch you everywhere as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You welcome it, going gooey in his arms, allowing him to take what he wants from you.

He’s so fucking broad, so strong, so masculine. You gasp into his mouth when he grips your ass with his big hands, pulling your hips against his, circling them as he kisses you. You feel his hardened cock through the layers of fabric, straining against the zipper of his jeans, desperate to bury itself in your slick heat.

To be desired like this feels powerful. It feels like years since Shawn wanted you like this much. It makes you lean more into Joel, desperate to keep the sensation going. His hands are sliding under your dress, up your silken thigh and you tremble.

A splash sounds nearby in the water, a fish or something startling you both and you simultaneously break apart. You both take a step back from one another in the sand, eyes wide. Joel looks completely crazed.

“The fuck—what are we doin’?” Joel whispers, the regret clear in both your faces.

You bring your trembling hands to your warm cheeks and tears immediately spring to your waterline.

What have you just done?

“Oh my fuck, no no, I don’t – I don’t know why-“

You bend at the waist, hands braced on your knees as you start to hyperventilate. Joel is pacing up and down the sand, his silhouette barely seen in the darkness of night. You can see his feet pacing back and forth. . . back and forth . . . He stops when you let out a hiccup, on the verge of throwing up.

“Honey stop,” Joel says, a hand on your back, rubbing gently along your spine. “Calm down. Calm down, its okay.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” you say, tears streaming down your face and dropping into the sand below. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“S’not your fault,” Joel says, his voice even and calm. It makes you feel calm. And yet, guilt still bubbles up in your lungs, making a small sob escape.

“I have to—you need to—I need to tell Shawn. Right now.”

“Hold on,” Joel says roughly, gripping you by the shoulder and urging you to stand. He peers into your face with a grim expression.

“You cannot tell Shawn anythin’.”

“I have to,” you whine.

“It’ll just hurt him,” Joel insists, nodding and hoping you’ll do the same. “It was a mistake. It was nothing, it was just the booze. We just drank too much and we were all hopped up on that asshole inside the club and we weren’t thinkin’.”

“Right,” you agree, relief sliding through every vein you possess as he lays it out for you. “That’s totally what it was. The drinking. We’re drunk.”

“Completely.”

“Okay. Good.”

You’re still shaken up by what just happened, still tipsy from the drinks. Joel runs an anxious hand through his curls, looking utterly wrecked.

“Let’s go back.”

The two of you walk the rest of the way back in silence. You still cannot believe what you did. You kissed your boyfriend’s father. You kissed him and he kissed you back. Fuck, you both must be utterly wasted. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll both forget it even happened. You would welcome the hangover from hell if it could erase the last fifteen minutes from both your minds for good.

Joel tugs open the sliding glass door, not able to look at you as you both pad towards the opposing doors. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel staring at you as you enter the bedroom where his son sleeps. You give him a sorrowful smile before closing the door.

You crawl under the covers, thankful that Shawn is asleep. You slip off the dress, your hair wild from dancing, your skin sticky with sweat, and your mouth still tasting of scotch. Your cunt flutters at the memory of the noises he made.

You roll onto your side, trying to drift to sleep. Shawn, still half-slumbering snuggles up against your back. His arm slips over your waist and he holds you, as he often holds you back home, gentle and tender and full of love.

“I’m sorry about before, babe,” he murmurs into your hair.

You feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You blink rapidly, closing your eyes and trying to swallow the guilt.

You know that Joel is in his bed right now similarly afflicted, thinking about how he did something so unforgivable and to his own son. Joel is the kindest dad you know; he loves his son more than anything. You know that what you both just did was awful and disgusting.

You also know that there is something deeply wrong with you because as you lay there in Shawn’s arms your pussy floods with memories of his father’s mouth on yours still vivid in your mind.

do you guys want more of this? or should it be a one-shot? also trying a new aesthetic what do we tthink?

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x original character #au joel miller #bdf!joel #but the dbf stands for boyfriend's dad #joel miller x you

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lair-of-platonic-yanderes · 3 months ago

Note

hi!!! Idk if you take requests!! But if you do can you MAYBE do Yandere platonic harbingers x Shy!Child!Reader? If not then ignore this!!^^

After the festival

Platonic! Yandere! Harbingers x GN! Shy! Child! Reader (+ Slight! Platonic! Yandere! Tsaritsa)

Description: Festival is over. Now it's time for a clean up. What... What's the kid are doing here?

Warning: English is my second language. OOC. Platonic Yandere. Took place before events of the game.

________

Snezhnaya was a cold nation. But, sometimes, something happens, that makes people feel warm.

Today, something like that was happening. First, from multiple festivals for kids' from the villages were was in the capital city. Tasty food, sweet beverages, games, performances, prizes and lots of people. A nice celebration to lift children's spirits.

Childe looked around an empty hall. Festival ended few hours ago, all invited kids were on their way home. The festival was a blast! Childe even managed to have fun with Anthon, Tonya and Teucer, who came from Morepesok to the capital city. Childe was happy. But now, it was time to have some rest.

Childe was ready to leave for his chamber, when he heard a quiet sneeze. He immediately perked up, and slowly moved where the sound came from.

Someone was hiding behind the giant colorful cube with cat faces painted on it (someone from House of Heath helped with decorations). Childe looked behind the cube.

Blue eyes met with [e/c] ones.

A quiet, shy voice filled the room.

"Mister... Can you, please, help me?"

____________

"So, let me get that straight... You were too shy to ask where one of the carriages, that will bring you back to your village, are?" normally, Childe would deal with the scared lost kid by himself, but the situation quickly got complicated, and he had to tell about the kid to other harbingers. Right now, he and some of his colleagues (Arlecchino and Pulcinella were called by Childe, Dottore and Columbina invited themselves) gather in one of the cabinets (one of the cozy ones). Right now, [Y/N] were sitting on the couch, with Columbina's coat wrapped around them, while Arlecchino was questioning them.

Kid gave a tiny nod, hiding their face in coat's fluff.

That moment, Fatui Harbingers, for the first time since they started to work together, have one similar thought.

'CUTE'

Columbina, who sat between Childe, and Dottore, leaned closer to Doctor, and whispered.

"If you ever thought about laying a finger on [Y/N], I will kill all of your segments."

Childe, who also heard her whisper, shivered. Arlecchino sighs.

"So, you were waiting in the corner. You tried to gather all your courage and ask for help, but you can't do it. Right?"

[Y/N] nodded again and hide even more behind the coat. The sounds of the roaring winds were muffled by the window.

That was The Complication. The snowstorm started. And, it seems, that storm will last for a few days. That, plus, the time to clean up the roads...

Kid will stuck in Zapolyarny Palace for a week at least. Childe can't just keep kid in his chambers for that duration! They will be found, and both them and Childe will get into trouble.

Arlecchino spoke again.

"And you stayed in the corner for a few hours, until you sneeze and were found by Childe." It wasn't a question, but kid nodded.

"Yes... I am sorry for describing him." [Y/N] looked down in shame, and hide deeper in the coat.

On second thought, Childe could simply bring kid to his chambers and said them not to leave it. Kid would probably stay there for a month.

Arlecchino rubbed her eyes. The situation was... Something. Still, they need to think what to do with the kid, if Pierro, who was updating Tsaritsa about them, won't be able to convince Cryo Archon to let [Y/N] stay in the palace.

Pulcinella tapped his fingers against the table. He cast a quick glance at the kid, who, at that point, were in a coat cacoon. Only a pair of eyes and small nose were visible from under the hood. An encouraging smile appeared on Pulcinella's face.

"Don't be nervous, young one. You aren't in trouble."

[Y/N] mumbled something, but, otherwise, stay quiet.

The door opened. Pierro and Capitano walked into the room. Number Fist of Fatui Harbingers walked straight to the couch, where [Y/N] were sitting. He was towering over the kid.

Capitano looked straight into the kid's eyes. Suddenly, he slowly and carefully, pressed his finger against their nose.

The room were silent. Did Capitano just... Booped kid's nose?

Capitano nodded, hummed and stepped aside. He glance over his shoulder to Pierro.

"They aren't dangerous."

Pierro cleared his throat. Detector's voice was calm.

"Her Majesty allowed them to stay."

And The Stay begun.

_________

Day 1 - Childe and Arlecchino

_______

[Y/N] tilted their head, looking at the food, that was put before them. Steak Tartare, or, as Arlecchino called it, at Hearthfire's Trail and at Calla Lily Seafood Soup, or, as Childe called it, at A Prize Catch.

Kid didn't know what to do. They weren't picky and were fine with eating the soup. But to eat tartare... [Y/N] didn't want to eat it, but they also didn't want to offend Arlecchino.

A pair of harbingers were sitting not far away, casting glances at the kid.

"Is it me, or thet looked like a sad kitten?" Childe whispered to Arlecchino, without looking away from [Y/N]. Arlecchino nodded. She can understand kid's dilemma. With a quiet chuckle, she stood up, went to the [Y/N]'s table, and picked up a plate with Hearthfire's Trail. Immediately, kid spoke.

"Miss Arlecchino, I will eat it, I pro-" she gently pressed a finger against their lips. A rare smile appeared on her face.

"Don't worry, child. It's on me. I should have realized, that not everyone is found of raw meat. I will simply cook it, so you can enjoy your Hearthfire's Trail."

Without another word, she left for the kitchen.

[Y/N] bit their lip, put soup closer and start eating it. It was tasty. [Y/N] hummed in delight.

Kid didn't notice Childe's proud gaze.

After a few more moments of observation, Childe stand up from his seat and walked to [Y/N]'s table.

"You like it?" he asked with a grin. Childe waited for the kid to nod, before asking the next question. "By the way, what is your favorite dish?"

[Y/N] chewed their lip, before mumbling.

"Pancakes..."

Kid answered right when Arlecchino returned with cooked Hearthfire's Trail.

[Y/N] ended up enjoying it.

~~~~~~~~~

Arlecchino and Childe spend half of the night baking pancakes for [Y/N].

Meanwhile, agents from House of Hearth and Childe's subordinates investigated the village, where [Y/N] lived.

_________

Day 2 - Sandrone and Scaramoushe

________

[Y/N] looked at the plush otter with big sparkling eyes.

"Wow! So cool." whispered kid, trying not to disturb the silence of the room. They looked at Scaramoushe, who tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. "Thank you, Mister Scaramoushe."

Scaramoushe just waved his hand.

"Yeah, don't mention it. Just, go to your room and play with your new toy."

[Y/N] nodded, thank him again and leave the room.

In a few minutes, Sandrone looked inside the room. With an amused expression, she asked.

"So, our great Number Six has a soft spot for kids?"

Scaramoushe growled.

"I did it, so brat won't bother me, that's all!"

Sandrone raised an eyebrow.

"So, instead of buying a toy, you sewed one?"

Scaramoushe clench his teeth, but, before he can say something, Arlecchino's loud yell echoes through the corridor.

"[Y/N]! Get down from Sandrone's robot! You will get hurt!"

Scaramoushe immediately ran past Sandrone. Boy could get hurt! Sandrone followed after him, loudly proclaiming.

"Don't worry, Arlecchino! I let them do it, they are safe!"

Next second, Childe's voice joined the screaming match.

"Well, others didn't allow [Y/N] to take a piggyback ride on your robot!"

Scaramoushe barked over his shoulder.

"So, you are trying to win over a kid with your robot? Back off, I will be their favorite!"

Sandrone gave him a nasty glance.

"We will see, puppet!"

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning [Y/N] get a bunch of handmade plush toys a mechanical toys.

Meanwhile, Sandrone, with help from Scaramoushe's subordinates, through Katherine and [Y/N]'s neighbors, collected information about the kid.

_________

Day 3 - Dottore and Pantalone

_________

"Hmm..." Dottore has been examined kid's finger through the magnifying glass. "Are you sure, that they have been hurt?"

Pantalone stopped going from one corner to another and modded.

"Yes! I saw a drop of blood on their finger, after they touched the mechanical toy."

Dottore rolled his eyes under his mask and looked at [Y/N]. As usual, they were quiet, looking at the floor.

Dottore sighed. The kid probably slightly pricked their finger. Nothing happened, but, here we are, Pantalone is fussing over that like a worried mother hen.

Dottore tutted and asked kid.

"Is it true? Were you hurt?"

"Mmmmm...!" kid hide their face behind their hands.

This again... Kid, when they were really frightened, made that sound. Like a cat trilling. Corners of Dottore's mouth go up.

"I will take it as a 'yes'."

Dottore picked up one of the band-aids he kept on his table, and put it around "hurt" finger.

"Here we go. You can continue playing."

Pantalone already was next to the kid, holding a lollipop towards them.

"Here, it will make the pain go away."

Kid shyly took the treat.

"Thank you, Mister Pantalone. Thank you, Mister Dottore."

[Y/N] then quickly left Dottore's office, not wanting to disturb grown-ups even more.

Dottore and Pantalone looked at each other.

"Adorkable." said a pair of harbingers in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, Pantalone bought a lot of child clothes.

Meanwhile, Dottore's segments picked up all necessary adoption documents.

___________

Day 4 - Pulcinella and La Signora

___________

"And that's how you solve that math problem." Signora circled the right answer, while talking to [Y/N]. The kid nodded with a thoughtful expression on their face.

Pulcinella quietly chuckled at the scene. For some reason, Signora decided to tutor the kid. She shut down Dottore's attempts in teaching kid something new.

It was an endearing sight. Signora looked happy, while she spent time with the kid.

"Did I do it right?" asked kid, solving the next exercise. Signora nodded, ruffling their hair.

"Great job, [Y/N]."

They smile shyly. Pulcinella chucked again. He should bring some pantries to the child's room later.

~~~~~~~~

That day, [Y/N] had a whole cake for a dessert.

Meanwhile, La Signora was talking to Tsaritsa, trying to get her permission to remake one of the palace rooms into a classroom.

_________

Day 5 - Columbina and Capitano

_________

"Miss Columbina, are you sure, that it's okay?" whispered [Y/N]. Columbina nodded, while trying to get into a more comfortable position.

"Yes. Don't worry. It will be just a little interesting trip!"

Harbinger and child were hiding in one of the big travel carts among tents. Earlier today, Columbina offered [Y/N] to take a secret trip to Natlan. Her plan was to hide in one of the carts, that Capitano and his subordinates will take with them.

Suddenly, the tent cloth, that Columbina and [Y/N] were hiding under, was removed. A big hand carefully grabbed [Y/N] by the collar of their sweater.

In a second, Capitano hold [Y/N] and Columbina by their colors. Duo looked like a pair of kittens.

But, while Columbina just smiled, [Y/N] looked extremely guilty.

Capitano put [Y/N] down, let go of their sweater, and, instead, put their hand on the top of a child's head, ruffling their hair.

"You supposed to be more serious." Capitano nodded flatly, still holding Columbina in the air. She just laughed.

"I was bored."

Capitano breathe in.

"You suppose to be an example for [Y/N]."

Another laugh.

"They already have Signora as a good example. I am a fun one."

Capitano shook his head.

"Okay, go away, you two."

He put Columbina down and gently nudge [Y/N] towards the exit.

Columbia grabbed [Y/N]'s hand and ran away with kid in tow.

~~~~~~~

That night, Columbina sang a lullaby for [Y/N].

Meanwhile, Capitano ordered Fatui solders to keep an eye on the kid.

________

Day 6 - Pierro and Tsaritsa

________

Pierro looked directly into Tsaritsa's eyes. He spoke with a genuine smile.

"It's over. We did it."

A small smile appeared on Tsaritsa's face.

It was easy.

It was easy to get everything they need to make Zapolarny Palace a good place to raise a kid.

There will be no need for [Y/N] to go outside. Everything they need will be delivered in the palace.

They won't be need to go to school. Harbingers will tutor the kid.

[Y/N] will be there. Safe and sound. Under Tsaritsa's protection.

She and her Harbingers will be their family.

Tsaritsa's war with Celestia will start soon.

She will do everything to succeed.

And, if they could keep one child safe... If she could become a mother to [Y/N]... Her future victory will be a real triumph.

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thewulf · 7 months ago

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Loving You is Easy || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - What about a jake seresin x reader. Of course jake has a reputation but he truly is in love with bartender reader, so finally he wears her down to a date. They go to a nice restaurant and reader still has has her gates up but she’s slowly realizing who Jake truly is WHEN not one but two of the girls jake hooked up... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another one for my fav cocky pilot. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2k +

T/W : None just fluff

The clink of glasses and the low hum of the late-night chatter fills the air at The Hard Deck, a place that's become your nightly retreat amidst the demands of school and work. As you finish up your shift behind the bar, wiping down surfaces and stacking glasses, you're acutely aware of Jake Seresin's presence. He's become a regular when you worked. His charm was well-known and his flirtations a constant undercurrent whenever he's around.

"Another evening of mixing drinks and dodging offers, Y/N?" Jake teases while watching you with an amused smirk as he plays with his empty glass sitting in front of him.

Playfully, you roll your eyes at the man who had become a constant in your life. "Just counting down to graduation," you reply. Keeping your tone light even as you avoid meeting his gaze too directly. You've heard stories about Jake, enough to keep a polite distance.

"How about celebrating a bit early? Let me take you out. A real date, not just bar banter that I know you love so much," he proposes while leaning over the bar slightly trying to catch your eye.

You hesitate but you had your response ready. "Jake, I really don't think mixing work with... whatever this is... would be a good idea."

"Just dinner," he presses. But his tone was sincere. "No expectations, no strings. Just two people enjoying good food. Come on, what do you say darling?"

Despite your reservations there's a part of you that's curious. The persistent part that wonders if there might be more to Jake than the rumors and his reputation. After a moment of internal debate, you find yourself nodding, slightly surprised by your own decision.

"Okay, one dinner. Only If it’ll get you to shut up about it" you say with a small smirk adorning your face finally meeting his gaze. "But, Jake, it's just dinner. That's it."

His face lights up with that well-known charming smile. "Just dinner," he agrees while raising his hands in a mock surrender. "You won't regret it."

As he leaves you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. You've maintained your boundaries yet you're stepping into new territory. It's just dinner you have to remind yourself. But as you turn the sign to 'closed' and lock up for the night you can't shake the feeling that it might just be the start of something unexpected. But you tried not to get your hopes up. It’s just dinner.

You step into the upscale restaurant. The ambiance immediately wraps around you. It’s intimate and inviting with its dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Jake stands from a secluded table as soon as he sees you his smile bright and welcoming. "You look absolutely beautiful," he says sincerely before pulling out your chair and taking his own seat.

"Thank you," you reply feeling a faint flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. The effort you put into choosing your outfit seems to have paid off and his notice of it warms you.

Once seated, Jake’s attention is all on you. He turns his phone off and places it face down on the table. A clear sign that this evening is about the two of you. "I remember you mentioned once you loved champagne, particularly the one from that small vineyard in France," he says, signaling the waiter. With a knowing smile he orders a bottle of your favorite champagne, not missing the surprised and pleased look on your face.

"How did you remember that?" you ask as you were both impressed and a bit bewildered. No guy had ever taken the time to remember the small details about you. And here Jake was wooing you already, five minutes in.

"I pay attention," he replies with a shrug that seems both casual and a bit shy. "Especially when it comes to things you like."

The champagne arrives and as Jake pours you a glass his demeanor is gentle, his movements deliberate. You clink glasses with a grin on your face. The first sip is just as you remembered—crisp, with a hint of sweetness, perfect.

"So, tell me about school," Jake prompts you seemingly genuinely interested. "What’s been keeping you busy?"

You share details about your latest projects and the challenges of balancing school with work. Jake listens intently, nodding and asking questions that show he's truly engaged in what you're saying. It's easy to talk to him and you find yourself relaxing more than you expected. The initial walls you had up slowly dissolving in the warmth of the conversation.

Turning the focus to him you recall the pieces of conversation you've picked up at the bar. "I’ve always been curious, Jake. What’s it like being a pilot in the Navy? It must be quite different from anything I can imagine."

Jake's eyes light up with a mix of pride and nostalgia. "It's intense and challenging, but flying is incredible. There’s nothing like the feeling of being up there… the freedom of it, but also the responsibility. Every decision matters. Not just for me but for my crew and everyone we support."

"It sounds amazing," you say with a hint of awe in your voice. "I’ve actually never been on a plane before. Can you believe that?"

Jake looks at you with an incredulous gaze. "What? You've never been on a plane? I’m changing that, darling," he declares with a playful but determined grin. "We’ll have to fix that soon. There’s a whole sky up there waiting for you."

As the evening progresses you laugh together over shared anecdotes and discover common interests. The connection feels real, unforced, and for a moment, the outside world with all its complications seems to fade away.

The evening had been progressing beautifully with laughter and shared stories flowing as freely as the champagne. You were beginning to see a side of Jake that was earnest and deeply attentive. A stark contrast to the playful banter at the bar. It was easy to forget the outside world in moments like this.

However, just as you're settling into a comfortable ease the first ripple of discomfort appears. A waitress approaches your table with a familiarity that instantly feels intrusive. She's all smiles, especially towards Jake.

"Jake, I didn't know you were here tonight!" she exclaims. Her voice a notch too loud for the intimate setting. She's overly friendly, touching his shoulder briefly as she speaks. Her eyes never leaving his acting as if you weren’t even there.

Jake's response is measured. His smile polite but restrained. "Hey, Sarah. Good to see you," he says, his tone neutral. He quickly turns his attention back to you trying to minimize the interaction. "Sarah used to work with me on base," he explains briefly hoping to dispel any rising concerns you might have.

You nod trying to smile, but the unease settles in your stomach like a stone. The moment is fleeting yet it lingers uncomfortably as Sarah finally moves away, her eyes lingering on Jake a moment too long.

Before the atmosphere can fully recover another beautiful woman approaches your table. This time, it's someone who's dining at the restaurant. Her approach deliberate as she locks eyes with Jake. Her presence is poised when she speaks. Her voice is tinged with a nostalgia that makes you shift in your seat.

"Jake, it's been too long," she says, reminiscing about a shared memory that clearly meant something to both of them. "Remember that weekend at the lake?"

Jake nods. His expression tightening slightly. "Yeah, that was a good time. Hope you're doing well, Rachel," he responds keeping his reply short and devoid of any warmth that could be misinterpreted. He glances at you with a flicker of concern crossing his features as he sees your discomfort.

"I'm sorry about this," he murmurs to you under his breath. His hand finding yours on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let’s focus on our night."

Despite his attempts to steer the evening back on course the interruptions have sown seeds of doubt. You appreciate Jake's efforts to reassure you, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes—he genuinely wants the night to be about the two of you. Yet, the encounters with his past make it increasingly difficult to ignore the reputation that preceded him. You find yourself wrestling with the warmth of his present attention and the shadow of his history.

As Jake continues to engage you in conversation, attempting to salvage the remaining warmth of the evening, you're left to ponder whether the burgeoning trust between you can withstand the challenges of his complicated past.

The mood at the table shifts palpably following the interruptions. Jake, noting your discomfort, adopts a more subdued tone. His usual easygoing demeanor tempered by the situation. “I can tell this isn’t easy for you, and I’m really sorry about that,” he says, his voice earnest, his gaze meeting yours with a steady sincerity. “I’ve had my fair share of casual things in the past. That’s not something I can undo, nor would I expect you to just overlook it.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. Clearly choosing his words with care. “But I want you to know ever since you started at the bar, something was different. I haven’t felt this kind of way about anyone else in a long time. If ever. Honestly, I haven't pursued anyone else since you came around. You’ve sort of... monopolized my interest.”

His admission is frank, devoid of any veneer. It's just him being open and hopeful, sitting across from you. “I hate that my history might be making this awkward. I really like you, Y/N. I’m here tonight because I want to be here with you. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you who I am at this moment in my life.”

The words linger between you straightforward and clear. It’s a lot to take in. His past is a part of him but the man before you now seems earnest, seeking something genuine with you.

You pause letting the weight of his words sink in. His hand reaches across the table, not to impose but to offer a gesture of connection. In response you extend your own hand, sliding your fingers between his, locking them together as a silent acknowledgment of your willingness to see where this path might lead.

“Thank you for being upfront with me,” you respond. Your voice calm and thoughtful. “I appreciate your honesty. Let’s just see what happens, no pressure.”

Jake’s face softens, a gentle smile forming as he senses the tension easing. “No pressure. Sounds perfect,” he agrees with hope in his voice matched by the warmth in his eyes.

As the evening ends with the complexity of real-life weaving through your initial impressions you find yourself intrigued by the possibility of discovering more about Jake, beyond this first, eventful meeting. The evening with all its ups and downs, winds down as the restaurant begins to empty. You and Jake exit into the cool night air. The city lights casting a soft glow on the street. The tension that had built up inside seems to dissipate slightly with the openness around you.

As you walk together Jake's demeanor is reflective and he keeps a respectful distance that speaks to his understanding of the evening's emotional rollercoaster. Yet, his presence is reassuring, a quiet strength in the uncertain night.

"You know," Jake starts, breaking the silence as you both stroll towards a quieter part of the street, "tonight didn't go exactly as I planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you. To show you that I'm not the guy people might say I am."

You glance at him noticing the earnest furrow in his brow. His next words come slowly, measured but clear. "But maybe it's good that it happened this way. You saw everything—the good and the not-so-good. I don't want to hide anything from you."

You stop walking instead looking at him directly. His green eyes are sincere, reflecting the streetlight's soft luminescence. It's in this moment with his gaze unwavering and his stance open that you feel a shift inside you. The doubts linger but there's something about his honesty tonight that tugs at your willingness to explore what might be between you.

"I need things to go slow, Jake. Really slow," you say. Your voice firm yet not without warmth. "Can you do that? Can we take this one moment at a time?"

Jake's response is immediate. His nod accompanied by a gentle smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're worth waiting for and I’m not going anywhere. I want to prove to you that I’m in this, really in this, for you."

There's a promise in his words, not just spoken but felt. You both resume walking and as you do, his hand finds yours, a simple touch but filled with intent. You interlace your fingers with his as a silent agreement to his proposal of taking things slow allowing yourself to feel the potential of what could be a new beginning.

As you walk further the city noise fades into the background, and a comfortable silence settles between you. It's not the fairy tale whirlwind. It’s real, it’s tentative, and it’s new. But it's a start. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a cautious optimism about the path ahead. The night ends not with grand gestures but with a quiet acknowledgment of something that might grow given time and mutual effort.

In the weeks following your first date your relationship with Jake blossomed beautifully against the backdrop of everyday life. Each shared moment from spontaneous coffee dates that extended into long or unplanned conversations to leisurely evening walks under a starlit sky, deepened your connection. The ease of laughter and the depth of discussions revealed layers of each other’s personalities and dreams, drawing you closer in ways both profound and delightful.

As the days turned into weeks, your phone became a constant companion, buzzing with Jake's texts that often stretched into late-night calls. These weren't just brief exchanges; they were rich, lengthy conversations where you found yourselves diving into everything from your favorite books to your deepest fears and aspirations. Jake remembered the little things you mentioned—like your love for mint chocolate chip ice cream or your dreams of visiting Greece—and surprised you with thoughtful gestures that showed just how much he cared. It wasn’t just what he said but how he listened and responded that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

With each passing day, the shadows cast by Jake's past seemed to fade, overshadowed by the genuine warmth and steadfastness he brought into your life. His consistent effort and the undeniable sincerity in his actions slowly dismantled the walls you had built around your heart instead allowing trust to seep in and fill the spaces between your doubts.

So, by the time you found yourselves laughing together on his couch, enveloped in the comfort of a lazy Sunday afternoon the words that had been quietly taking shape in your heart felt ready to surface. The day unfolded effortlessly, each moment layered with shared smiles and unspoken promises, steering you gently toward a revelation that seemed both thrilling and inevitable. This wasn’t just another pleasant day. It was poised to become a defining moment in your relationship where feelings long simmered might finally find their voice.

The afternoon sun casts a warm, golden light through the windows of Jake’s living room, bathing the cozy space in a tranquil glow. You’re both nestled comfortably on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs with a lighthearted romantic comedy playing in the background. It serves more as a backdrop to your own laughter-filled conversation than as entertainment.

Jake is in the middle of recounting yet another of his infamous escapades at the base. This time involving an unintentionally hilarious mix-up during a training exercise. His storytelling is animated, his hands gesturing wildly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.

"And then, I accidentally broadcasted the prank over the PA system, not just to the squad, but the whole base!" he exclaims, bursting into laughter at the memory.

You can't help but laugh along his delight was terribly infectious, his joy utterly palpable. "Jake, you're unbelievable. You always find a way to make everything so fun," you say. Your voice tinged with affection and amusement. The warmth of the moment, the closeness you felt with him, it all feels so natural. So right.

As the laughter subside you look at him with a big grin on your face. And without thinking much more the words on the tip of your tongue just slip out, "You crack me up, Jake, I love you so much." The moment the words escape your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve said, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jake's laughter stops abruptly. His expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with significance, before his face breaks into a tender, wide smile. He looks at you. His eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness and something deeper, more earnest. "Wait, say that again," he says. His voice low and husky, filled with emotion.

Feeling a rush of courage by his encouraging gaze you repeat your words, "I love you, Jake." It feels even more right the second time. The words resonating between you, filling the space with their profound simplicity.

Jake's response is immediate. He leans in, closing the distance between you with his hand cupping your face gently. "I love you, too. I’ve been hoping to hear that. Was wondering when it would be right to tell you how I feel," he confesses. His thumb softly stroking your cheek. "I’ve been holding onto these words, afraid to say them too soon, but feeling them every day."

"Really?" you whisper. Touched by his sincerity and the depth of his feelings.

"Absolutely," Jake replies with his gaze locked on yours, intense and full of affection. "From the way you laugh to how passionate you are about your studies, from your kindness to others to your strength in handling everything life throws at you. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

He draws you closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. "I wanted to tell you on our third date," he admits. His voice muffled as he speaks into your hair, "but I thought it might scare you off. Now, I just want to make up for lost time." He chuckled squeezing you tighter.

The room feels charged with a new energy. A new understanding as you both bask in the glow of shared love. The movie continues to play, unnoticed now, as you and Jake talk and laugh. The conversation meandering through dreams, hopes, and plans for the future. Each word strengthens your ever-growing relationship. Each moment deepens the love that now openly defines the two of you.

And as the sun sets, casting long shadows through the room, you feel a profound sense of contentment. This isn’t just a fleeting romance. It’s the beginning of something lasting, grounded in mutual respect and deep affection. You lean against him with your head on his shoulder, heart full, as you both enjoy the quiet comfort of knowing you're exactly where you're meant to be.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

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cheriladycl01 · 28 days ago

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Kinktober 31/10/2024 The Grid - Halloween Party

Plot: Halloween Party Couple Costumes

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

You both went to the party as the characters from Kill Bill, it was one of Max's favorite films and you were excited to dress up as the Bride. Originally you were going to go for the full latex outfit but because Max had a few parties in the same night you'd both be travelling between you had to do a bit of makeshift work.

"You look hot" he says looking over you as you unzip the bright yellow top you had on, just to show off a little more cleavage for him.

"Yeah?" you ask pulling the katana up and holding it in positions being goofy as he took some pictures of you.

"And i think dying your hair blonde ... good shout" he grins running his hands through your freshly dyed blonde locks just so you could pull of this Halloween costume without a wig.

LANDO NORRIS:

You wanted to be funny and go as Gru and Vector ... but no McLaren thought it was too 'silly' and wasn't a 'good image' for Lando as a now championship contender.

So you guys decided as you were only going to a small Quadrant Haloween party that you guys would go lowkey and just try and use as much stuff as you could from home.

Naturally you were both at home when he had the idea of both going as the game characters from Subway Surfers, out of all the games both you and Lando played you didn't expect to go as mobile game characters, something from Valorant or even Tarkov but no here you were with a red beanie, hitched up red underwear under low rise jeans and an empty aerosol can.

"Cant believe you convinced me into this" you shake your head, knowing all the girls there would be going as either really hot people or would be very funny like you'd intended ... but at least you were with Lando and you guys both couldn't escape the costume police you knew would be at the party.

"You love me babe now come on lets go jump some trains"

OSCAR PIASTRI:

When Oscar had met you when he first came to England you made of point of forcing him to binge your comfort show, Peaky Blinders with you which led to this years Halloween costume for the both of you.

While Oscar was the gentleman and got his outfit as show accurate as possible you took the hot slant on it despite having a shirt, waistcoat and jacket covering up the majority of your upper body leaving your legs to do all the hot girl work.

"We look good" Oscar smiled looking at you guys in the long full length mirror in your apartment as you guys were about to leave.

"You're right we do" you smile reaching up to kiss his cheek forgetting the bright red lipstick that was covering your lips.

"AH AH. Let them dry first" he says putting his finger on one showing the stain.

When you got to Logan's party you were met with such a different vibe. You and Oscar had decided to stay in America for Halloween which was a good choice as they were crazy for any kind of holiday celebration.

"Will anyone here know who we are?" you ask wondering if you're costume was too niche.

"Lets hope they don't, quick and easy conversations so we don't look rude and unimpressed" he kisses the side of you head, knowing how introverted you both are/

CARLOS SAINZ:

Of course you had to go as young Morticia and Gomez Addams. It was something you knew for a fact Carlos would look incredible in and you had the perfect features to pull of Morticia.

You guys were attending a Halloween Party that actually had a lot of the drivers at, it was in a club that had invited you all as a brand deal with F1 and you guys all didn't really have an excuse not to go.

You guys got an uber, which is a strange experience when you have a boyfriend who drives for a living.

So many of the other wags were there and a costume competition had been held which you and Carlos had ended up winning, you think Lando most defiantly forged the votes but you couldn't deny that you and Carlos looked like you both put the most amount off effort in.

CHARLES LECLERC:

Charles didn't ever really understand the hype for spooky season, enjoying other more family oriented holidays more such as Christmas or even birthdays.

But when you said that your sister was hosting a small party (that of course ended up being not so small at all) that she was dying for you to make an appearance at you had to go despite the late notice.

So there you guys were two days before ironing patches to blue and red tops you'd brought from the most accessible shops in Monaco and because you were bringing Charles and you wanted to match but with the lack of time options were thin.

So of course doing a really bad attempt at Sally and Lightening McQueen was the option Charles decided on and everyone at the party found you guys so funny especially once they realised who Charles was as a famous racing driver.

To say despite the 5 minute crafts outfit you guys put together you were everyone's choice of conversation both at the party and after.

YUKI TSUNODA:

Chef Linguine, absolutely not Chef Tsunoda and you as his Remi. It meant you got to dress up as a sexy mouse while Yuki could live his dreams of being a chef, dressing up in the whole outfit that you were surprised to see he just had in his closest already.

"You look like a cute mouse" he smiles looking over the white corset and sort grey skirt you'd opted for.

"Do i make a good Remi?" you ask sweetly and he nods.

"I still don't get why you didn't go as Collette" he sighs, thinking it would be odd for him to kiss you tonight when this was your outfit.

"Because canonically Collette is a better chef than Linguine because actually Linguine cannot cook without the rats help ... so I'm still not sure why i went as the rat. Maybe i should have gone as Chef Skinner" you groan now overthinking the whole costume.

FRANCO COLAPINTO:

Franco's nickname for you was 'princesa' so of course you going as one of the Disney Princesses made sense however when he said you guys should do Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel you almost lost your shit.

You were going to suggest the little mermaid as you'd love to see him in Prince Eric's soft pirate outfit but the Flynn outfit was just as exciting and you of course looked great in purple and could use your naturally blonde hair.

"Are you ready my Princesa?" he asks from the bottom of the stairs. You were expecting to turn round the corner with a soft graceful smile to see HIM awestruck at your costume.

Unfortunately god had other plans and it was you who was gobsmacked at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.

"Fuckkkkk Francoooo. Lets skip the party" you say running down the stairs to grip onto his arm.

FERNANDO ALONSO:

As an older couple on the grid who still loved a party and having fun you and Fernando decided old school was the best way forward. And for Fernando seeing you in sexy leather pants and a tight black top he was all but happy to keep pulling you away for sneaky kisses once you'd got to the club.

Nando was normally very ... sexually driven but this outfit of yours had turned him into some kind of beast and you were not complaining.

Especially when you guys got home that night.

ESTEBAN OCON:

Being the Marvel nerd that he was he'd asked if he could do Deadpool and you do Wolverine, which you did want to at first but when you couldn't find the right hairstyle and decided the outfit just didn't look good this year it fell through to be picked up another year.

Which is where his next idea came in, you'd both decided to go as Spiderman's he'd worn some grey joggers with him as the suit was pretty tight on him and he didn't want anything to come out in the media however you took the Spiderman look the whole way and for the whole night Estaban had to stay close to you warding off all the other guys who were watching you with what he explained to you as 'fuck me' eyes.

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