#I only got five minutes in before I had to just nope
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mochatears · 2 years ago
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Is it so hard for interviewers to just . Learn to pronounce the names of the people they’re told they’re going to be interviewing?? Like, I get they’re probably busy, but it feels like just the polite thing to do? I’d be so embarrassed if I interviewed a celebrity and then found out later I completely butchered their name.
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p1astr81 · 8 months ago
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just a prank - op81
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in which: Lando has his friends over, and while his roommate is taking a shower, they decide to play a prank on her. Oscar is the one to come to her rescue.
pairing: Oscar Piastri x Lando’s roommate!reader
warnings: uni au, fluff, bullying lowkey, use of y/n, a little objectifying, my first fic on here so pls don’t be rude
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧
Y/N just got off work, and she desperately needed a shower.
Wanting to become a physiotherapist, she worked part-time at a private secondary school alongside the athletic trainer to make some money while she studied at uni. She was helping one of the football athletes. He’d sprained his ankle earlier in the season, and she was having him do a few exercises to rebuild his strength in that foot.
Long story short, three boys came in asking for her to tape up their knees. Before she could say anything, one of the boys “tripped” and spilled an entire can of Red Bull down the front of her. The nice football player offered his shirt to her, but she politely declined. She’d remained in the sticky clothes for the rest of the day. And as soon as she got home, she jumped in the shower.
Conveniently, her roommate, Lando Norris, forgot to tell her that he invited a bunch of his friends over. So a quarter of the way through her shower, the shared apartment became filled with boys.
“What is taking her so long? I have to piss,” Keegan complained. Lando just shrugged. “Oh!” Carlos exclaimed, like a lightbulb just went off in his head. “Let’s play a prank on her.” He suggested. “Like turn off the lights?” Max Fewtrell asked. “Or turn off her music.” Ginge grumbled. The pop music was blasting, filling the apartment with the vocals of various pop girls.
“I was thinking more like take her clothes,” Carlos said, a mischievous tone about his voice. Lando laughed. “Just say you want to see my roommate naked, mate.”
Oscar thought they should leave her be, but he wasn’t friends with everyone in the room. Only Lando. And he didn’t want to be labeled as a kill joy, so he stayed silent.
“It’s not just me, I think everyone wants a piece of her.” Carlos defended himself, glancing at the others in the room who hesitantly nodded along—well, except for Oscar. “You’ve got your share already, haven’t you?”
Lando shook his head. “Nope, she sees me as a ‘friend’.” He shared, unamused. The room winced at the fact he’d been friendzoned. Carlos got up from the couch, and headed down the hallway where the bathroom was located.
Y/N heard the door open and groaned. “Lando how many times do I have to tell you, you have to knock before coming in.” You scolded, but instead of the usual sassy response you’d receive, it was silence. The door clicked closed, and you peaked your head out, not noticing anything different immediately.
Carlos emerged from the hallway. “Got the clothes, and the towel.” He held up the items proudly. The group of them cheered. Something inside Oscar’s stomach twisted. These aren’t the people he thought he befriended.
after around fifteen minutes, the shower water turned off, and her music followed quickly after. “Lando!” She shouted but got no reply. So she stuck her head out of the door. “Lando! Give me my stuff back!” She demanded. This time, she was met with laughter. She quickly realized it wasn’t just Lando in the apartment. Panic set in.
Her roommate seeing her without clothes on was one thing. She could live with that embarrassment. He accidentally walked in on her changing once before. But by the sounds of it, there were at least five other people out there. The status of their phones—whether they would be recording or not—was completely unknown to her.
She shut the bathroom door, and began scheming. Her first thought was the shower curtains, but the rust had fused the clips of the cheap hangers together. She could use the hand towel, but that wouldn’t cover much. Toilet paper wasn’t an option, as there was so little left in the roll that it would help just about as much as the hand towel. She was left with pleading.
She stuck her head out the door again. “Lando, come on. Just give me a bath towel at least.” All she heard was laughter. “I’ll buy you take-away for a week.” She tried to bargain. Again, only laughter. She huffed. Knowing most of Lando’s friends were pining after her, she tried to bargain with, “I’ll kiss every one of you if you just give me a towel.” There was no laughter immediately, as if they were actually considering it. It gave her a little bit of hope. But it shattered moments later as they began to laugh again.
Seeing as bargaining didn’t work, she was reduced to begging. “Lando, please.” They only laughed harder, but their laughter was soon replaced with cries of disappointment. “Mate, don’t.” “Come one man don’t be a wet blanket.” “Dude she was gonna have to come out eventually.”
Her saving grace appeared at the end of the hallway, her towel in his hands. While the hallway was dimly lit, the floppy hair on his head couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else. Oscar was always her favorite out of all Lando’s friends.
He stopped in front of her. The bathroom light illuminated his face enough for her to see his small smile. “Thank you so much.” Her words came out with a sigh of gratitude. His smile widened as he nodded, his hair flopping along with his head.
She closed the door on him, and re-emerged seconds later with the towel wrapped about her. “Oscar,” she called to the man who was stood at the end of the hall. He turned to her with a raised brow as she caught up with him. She took his arm, passing the group of booing boys on the way to her bedroom.
She brought Oscar into her room and locked the door behind them. “Oh, no. I didn’t do that to get anything in return.” He quickly said, his eyes wide. He did not want her to feel like she was obligated to give him something.
“Trust me, I know.” She smiled. “You’ve always been my favorite out of all of Lando’s friends. You’re the only polite one.” She shared while digging through her dresser for new pajamas. Carlos was still holding her other ones hostage.
“Oh, uhm, thanks.” He scratched the back of his neck. He was looking everywhere except at her. “Turn around for me.” She requested, and he quickly listened.
His cheeks went red when he heard her towel drop. He wanted to take a peak. Like the other boys, he did think you were very attractive. But unlike the other boys would have, he didn’t try to steal a glance at you. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very good looking?” She asked.
“My grandma called me handsome once.” He shared. Her laughter rang out, the angelic sound floating right to his ears and making his head feel a little lighter. “Funny, good looking, and polite. It’s a wonder you haven’t been locked down yet.” She laughed again.
Oscar didn’t know what to say to that, so he just laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m probably making this really weird. I just wanted to thank you.” She apologized, her voice sincere. Oscar shook his head quickly. “It’s not weird, and you don’t need to thank me.” She heard in his voice how nervous he was, and smiled softly at him. “You can turn around now, by the way.” He did, and bit back a laugh at the set of hot-pink pug pajamas she’d put on. “Don’t laugh. They’re all I have clean.” She sighed.
“‘M not laughing.” He stated, though his voice was very clearly on the verge of breaking into hysterics. He couldn’t help it, and after a few seconds let out a little chuckle. “Yeah, alright. You can get back to your friends now. Sorry for keeping you.”
“Eh,” Oscar stammered. “I’m a bit afraid to go back out there, if I’m honest.” He confessed with a nervous glance toward the door. She shrugged. “You could stay here with me. I don’t mind. I was just going to watch a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 before going to sleep.”
He hesitated. “If you truly don’t mind.” She shook her head and scooted over to make room for him in the bed next to her.
Morning arrived, and when Oscar stretched his limbs, he found himself unable to move a great part of the left side of his body. Glancing down to investigate the problem, he found y/n at it’s source. He realized he never left her room last night, and as a result, they fell asleep together.
Slowly, he sunk back into the mattress, doing his best to keep her from waking. She looks inexplicably tranquil beside him. A small smile graced her lips as her head laid on his chest. An arm of hers was draped across his torso, and she had a leg laying cross his, disabling his ability to move them freely. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he found himself at peace.
Despite his attempt at not disturbing her, she began to stir. She blinked repeatedly, trying to wake herself up. She let out a sigh before lifting her eyelids. She looked up at Oscar through her lashes. “Oh,” she muttered, lazily pulling herself away from him. “Sorry about that.” She apologized. Oscar found her groggy voice somewhat endearing. “I suppose you should get going, then.” She stood, stretching her arms toward the sky.
Oscar nodded. “Only if you let me take you out tonight.” He didn’t know where the confidence came from, and as soon as he got the words out, he began apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally- I didn’t mean-“
“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” She interrupted his fumbling, smiling warmly at him. “I’ll walk you out.”
On their way out, they passed Lando, who was toasting pop tarts. “Have a fun night?” He asked bitterly.
“Calm down, we didn’t fuck.” She rolled her eyes before adding, “If we did, you definitely would’ve heard.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He waved her off. “All the guys aren’t too fond of you now.” He told Oscar, who shrugged. “They’re not the kind of blokes I care to be friends with, anyway.” Y/n smiled up at him.
“Oh!” She hummed, facing Lando. “and you’re going to have to cook your own food tonight. We’re going out.”
Lando rolled his eyes as the toaster popped from behind him.
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witchthewriter · 24 days ago
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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
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𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 ✧˖°.
・The fire danced from the fireplace, lighting up the room with soft warmth and light
・You were both reading a book, when the idea came to your mind. So, you closed your eyes and let your book fall to the floor.
・Slowly you leant on John, letting out an 'mmmm' before fulling committing. You closed your eyes, nuzzled into him and ... waited.
John smiled.
"Sweetheart-" he murmured, stroking your hair. Leaning down to press a kiss to your head.
・You didn't say anything, just let your body relax against his.
"I think it's time for bed," John grumbled, slipping the book mark you made him into his book and slowly stroked your head.
・You didn't move.
・He called out your name, gave you a little nudge and then decided, "I'll just carry you then-"
・You tried not to move a muscle, and when he picked you up, you panicked slightly. How rigid was a body supposed to be while asleep??
・John knew you were faking but played along anyway. You usually snored a little while asleep.
・Yet he still played along and held you bridal style; even walking up the stairs.
"You are very lucky," he whispered against your forehead while he lay you down, "incredibly lucky, how much I love you."
𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚 ✧˖°.
・You had already done this twice this week and it was only Wednesday
・Half of you was worried he was catching on
・The other half of you ... knew he'd call you out if you were faking
・It was well into the night when the next commercial came on (yes you have streaming services but you were watching on Prime so...still ads)
・You were ontop of Simon, head against his chest, breathing in his smell when he started to shift
"Love, you awake?"
・He moves his large hand from your back to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against your warm skin.
"You want to be carried again then?"
・You cannot help your reaction
・Eyes shooting open, warmth floods your cheeks, your neck, and you smile, sheepishly.
"When did you figure it out?" You ask, shifting to look him in the eyes
"You talk in your sleep."
"Ah..."
"Mmm, still want me to carry you to bed?"
"...yes please."
𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 ✧˖°.
・You had fallen 'asleep' in his lap right when the movie was about to finish
・Literally, ten minutes before the credits were about to roll, you had laid your head in his lap and let yourself settle.
"Babe, you awake?"
・Kyle was met with nothing but silence.
・With a raised eyebrow, he gave you a little nudge but ... nothing.
・He saw that you were breathing, yet breathing lightly... but he played along
"God, you must have been so sleepy. Poor baby, no ice cream. Just straight to bed-"
"No!" You sat up instantly, not even groggy, "I didn't know we had ice cream-"
"Oh! You little faker!" Kyle said between laughs.
"Wait. Do we even have ice cream..." You said with a frown.
"Nope!"
𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉 ✧˖°.
"Bonnie! Ready for another movie?"Johnny exclaimed, giving your leg a squeeze.
・You had watched three already; it was your weekly movie marathon - one you never missed.
・But the time was late, or early; depending on who you asked. And you just couldn't say no to him.
・So you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.
・It took about five minutes for Johnny to realise you weren't watching.
"Ah, sleep got the best of ye," he yawned, and you had to do your best not to smile.
・Turning off the tv, Johnny held you against his chest and walked you to bed.
・He was completely focused on getting you to bed, that he didn't notice the small smile that had crawled its' way onto your face
𝑲𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈 ✧˖°.
・Large hands stroke along your back, slowly moving from the top of your spine to the bottom
・It tasks everything in you not to make a noise
・Already feeling sleepy, and knowing he would carry you even if you asked, there was something a little funny in pretending
・You felt Konig lean down and kiss your head twice. Then again.
・Contentment vibrated through your bones; you felt safe, felt happy, felt ... in love
"Oh schatz, must have been a big day for you," he cooed.
・The very essence of his voice was dipped in adoration
・Looking at the clock, Konig decided to put you to bed.
"Come schatzi, let me take you to bed, ja?"
・His strong arms enveloped you, and when your face was turned upward, he kissed your brow and hummed.
𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉 (𝒐𝒈) ✧˖°.
・You heard him coming from the shed.
・John had been working on something for a few weeks and he spent most of his nights there.
・You didn't mind, but you had felt a tad touch starved lately.
・The idea popped into your head. It made you giggle to think of him carrying you while you fake-slept.
・So, you dashed to the couch and put your head at one end, while throwing a blanket on your legs.
・Shutting the door behind him, he walked into the living room and called out your name.
・His gruff, Scottish voice still sent shivers down your spine.
・Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he called out again, as his voice got lower...deeper.
・It wasn't long before he found you. He wrapped a hand around your ankle and squeezed lightly.
"bonnie's asleep then," he said and slid his hands underneath yours to hoist you up.
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“Stay in Bed”(Yandere Platonic! Batfam x Reader)
A/N: I made this based on two asks. And I’m sorta satisfied with the outcome. Could be better but it already got so long.
It started with something small — it always did.
She was sitting in the kitchen, curled on one of the tall barstools with a textbook propped open in front of her and a mug of tea in her hand. Her usual favorite — honey and chamomile — untouched. Dick had only been passing through the Manor that morning, en route back to Bludhaven, until he paused mid-step, his eyes locking on her.
“Little Flower,” he said, almost casual, but his voice hitched on the end.
She didn’t lift her head. Her cheek was propped against her palm, and her lips were slightly parted, breath too quiet. Her lashes trembled. Her eyes were unusual dull.
He crossed the kitchen in two strides. “Y/N,” he said again, this time softer. Concern bled through. “Hey.”
That got her attention. Her head snapped up — too fast — and she blinked at him like someone just waking from a dream. She smiled automatically, and he hated (and also loved) that about her — how she always smiled like it was her job to put everyone else at ease.
“I’m fine,” she croaked.
Dick’s brows furrowed. “That’s funny,” he murmured, crouching beside her and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead before she could stop him. “Because you feel like a fever wrapped in fleece.”
“It’s not bad,” she mumbled. “Just a cold. I still have to get to school—”
“No, no, nope. Absolutely not.” He was already pulling his phone out. “You’re staying home. That’s final.”
“I have a presentation.”
“I’ll present it for you. I’ll wear a wig. Get surgery and makeup to be half as cute as you and shorten my legs. It’ll be great. I’ll cry on cue.”
She gave a weak laugh. Her shoulders sagged.
Dick leaned forward, gently tugging her against him. “You don’t have to push yourself, okay? You’re allowed to be taken care of.” His voice dropped lower. “Let us take care of you.”
And just like that, the first domino fell.
She had expected more fight from Dick. But the real battle came twenty minutes later, when Damian came storming downstairs in his uniform and found her still in the kitchen, pale and swaying like a paper daisy in the wind.
“What is she doing here?” he asked Dick sharply, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your uniform downstairs and waiting for me?”
“She’s sick,” Dick answered for her. “Fever. Sore throat. Lethargic.”
Damian made a sound of pure contempt. “A minor inconvenience. My sister is stronger than a mere virus.”
“Your sister couldn’t stand up straight five minutes ago.”
“I’m not fragile,” Y/N said — but it came out more like a whimper than a protest, and she immediately went into a coughing fit.
“Tt,” Damian said, disgusted. “You sound like a dying goose.”
Dick smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
“She’s not going,” he said, more firmly this time.
Damian crossed his arms and glared. “Fine. But I’m sending Titus to stand guard. Can‘t trust any of you with her safety.”
“That’s not—”
But Titus was already at her side, nuzzling into her with a soft whine, curling around her legs as if she might disappear again.
Y/N’s heart tugged. “Thanks, Dami.”
He didn’t answer. Just turned and stalked off with his usual drama. But she caught the way his ears turned red.
_______
“Bed,” Dick said sternly, standing at the edge of the couch with his arms folded, looking every bit the overbearing parental figure he’d once sworn he’d never become. Not even ten minutes after Damian had left to go to school, Y/N had gone to the living room. She wanted to do some schoolwork and not slack off even when she felt like shit. But to her surprise (not) her oldest brother would not allow that.
“I said I’m fine,” she mumbled, blanket half-hugged to her chest. But Dick had her in his arms already. Her head to his broad chest.
“And I said bed.” His voice was gentler this time, but it brooked no argument. “Now.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
Ten minutes later, she was tucked beneath two layers of blankets in her room — the same room that had only recently been refilled with her things. The elephant plush was nestled against her pillow. Titus lay sprawled at the foot of her bed, assigned by Damian with militant precision before he left for school.
Dick stood over her with a mug of tea in one hand and a digital thermometer in the other. The look on his face wasn’t warm — it was too tense, too strained. Every time he looked at her, it was like he was trying to count her breaths.
She rolled her eyes but drank the tea. He sat beside her and tucked a hand against her temple.
“Still hot,” he muttered. Then, half under his breath: “Still too hot.”
“Are you gonna take my vitals every five minutes?”
“If I could shrink myself down and fight the virus directly, I would.”
She laughed weakly, then coughed harder than she expected to. Her ribs hurt.
Dick’s eyes darkened. He pressed a hand gently to her back and looked like he was about to break down her immune system with sheer older-brother rage.
By mid-afternoon, her temperature had climbed.
“She’s at 39.4,” Alfred said in a hushed voice, leaning beside Dick in the hallway. “She’s sleeping, but her breathing is shallow. I don’t like how warm her hands are.”
Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I should’ve called a doctor.”
“You did everything right,” Alfred said. Then added, more quietly, “But perhaps you should inform your father.”
Dick hesitated.
He didn’t have to decide. Alfred already had.
Ten minutes later, Bruce Wayne was out of a board meeting and halfway home, leaving Lucius Fox behind with nothing but an insincere apology and the glare of a man who’d just been told his daughter was sick and hadn’t been informed immediately.
He arrived at the Manor like a storm.
“Why,” he asked as he stepped into her doorway, coat still flung over his arm, “did no one tell me my daughter was burning up?”
“Bruce—” Dick started, but Bruce was already moving.
She stirred when he entered. Blinked sleepily. “You’re home early,” she mumbled.
He went still. The sight of her was worse than he expected.
Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips dry, eyes half-lidded and glassy. She looked impossibly small beneath the layers of bedding. One hand clutched her elephant plush like a lifeline.
Something inside him cracked. He crossed to her and sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her face.
“I’m here now,” he said quietly.
“Daddy,” she whispered sleepily. The word was hoarse.
He froze.
And then he didn’t leave her side for the rest of the day.
Tim dropped into the cave late that night, eyes hollow from another twelve-hour stretch in front of every digital system he could access. Between corporate work and vigilante patrol, he’d still made time to set up two separate medical monitors for her room — just in case anything went wrong while she was asleep.
He also installed a retinal scanner at her door. Just in case.
He stepped inside her room under the guise of checking her fever, but lingered longer than necessary. Her breathing was soft. Her skin still too warm. She stirred occasionally, muttering things in her sleep that made his fingers twitch toward his tablet.
She was always too good, too pure — and none of them deserved her.
But she was theirs. And she was staying.
Even if he had to put tracking software on her toothbrush.
By the next morning, she was worse.
The fever hadn’t broken. Her throat was raw. Her nose was congested, and she barely touched the soup Alfred made.
The change was visible across the entire family.
Dick stopped his forced smiling. Damian barely spoke. Tim didn’t blink during his patrol.
And Bruce — Bruce stayed at the Manor. He read to her in low, grave tones. He wiped her forehead with a cloth. He held her hand and stared at the pulse in her wrist like it was the only thing keeping him sane.
Even Jason checked in.
Not through the door. Not loudly. But at midnight, when the house was still, the window creaked open and the floorboards whispered beneath his boots.
He sat beside her bed, hands gloved, movements careful.
“Don’t you scare me like this,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You hear me, Bloom?”
She didn’t answer. But she breathed — just enough.
The doctor came.
Private. Discreet. Paid well enough not to ask questions about the growling dog in the hallway or the collective glower of Gotham’s most dangerous men all crowded outside a feverish girl’s room.
“It’s not viral,” the doctor concluded with a quiet voice. “A severe immune response, most likely. But with proper rest, hydration, and this medication—” he tapped a slim white bag “—she’ll recover just fine.”
Bruce didn’t move.
Dick nodded. Tim took the bag.
Damian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on his sister with a silent, sharp glare.
“She’s too weak because she doesn’t eat right,” he muttered. “I keep telling her—”
“We’ve all been watching her eat,” Dick said, voice tight. “She eats.”
“Not enough protein. Not enough iron. You think tea and cookies will make her stronger?”
Bruce only murmured, “She sleeps too little.”
Tim added, “She gets cold too fast.”
Jason, from where he stood in the shadows, snapped, “Maybe because she grew up being ignored in a stone mansion, freezing her little hands off while everyone played hero.”
Silence followed. No one argued.
But all their eyes went to the bed.
The moment the door closed behind the doctor, the interrogation began.
“I don’t like the pills,” she mumbled, burritoed in her blankets and turned to the wall.
Dick knelt beside the bed. “They’ll help your fever.”
“No.”
“Y/N—”
“I don’t want to. They taste weird.”
“You’re not taking them for the taste.”
She burrowed deeper into the pillow. Her voice muffled. “I’m not sick. Just tired. Let me sleep.”
Damian let out a breath sharp as a blade. “You are sick.”
“You’re being dramatic—”
“And you’re being ridiculous, brat. Tt. Open your mouth.”
“No!”
He reached for the pill bottle, already halfway prepared to pinch her nose shut if she wouldn’t swallow on her own.
Dick stopped him with a hand.
“She’s scared,” he said gently.
“She’s being stubborn.”
Tim crouched by the desk. “We can crush it in honey—”
“She’ll taste it,” said Dick.
Bruce stepped into the room again, looming large in the doorway like a final verdict. “Give them to me.”
He approached her, slow and careful, but his presence was too heavy. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she immediately shifted away, curling tighter into herself.
“Princess,” he said. “You need to take the medicine.”
She shook her head.
He sat beside her. “If I have to make you, I will.”
She didn’t believe him.
She should have.
It was Dick who held her in the end. His grip tight but not hurtful. She struggled — weakly, sickly, with tearful defiance — but her arms were too light. Her body too hot. She whined, kicked once, and let out a sob when the pill was pressed into her mouth and the bitter syrup followed behind it, held between firm fingers and cradled limbs.
And then Tim’s soft voice: “Just a little sedative, to help her rest.”
Her eyes fluttered.
“Why?” she whispered. Her voice broke. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because we love you,” Dick said into her hair.
She looked at him, dazed, betrayed. “This isn’t love.”
But she was too drowsy to keep speaking
________
When Jason returned that night — just past 1:13 a.m. — he didn’t expect her to be awake.
But she was.
He pushed open the window and landed softly on the carpet. Titus raised his head from the rug but didn’t bark. He knew Jason.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.
“You’re supposed to be knocked out.”
She smiled faintly. “Guess your little flower’s stubborn.”
Jason didn’t laugh. He crossed the room, knelt beside her bed, and studied her too-hot cheeks and glassy eyes. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll find out who gave you this.”
She blinked. “It’s a fever.”
“Still. Someone coughed in your direction and I’ll rearrange their lungs.”
She laughed, but it turned into a cough. He leaned over and brushed her hair back, palm pressing gently to her forehead. She leaned into his touch, liking the coldness of his hands.
Still too warm. He didn’t speak for a while. Just stayed.
And then she said softly, “You guys overreact too much.”
Jason didn’t argue. He looked at her, eyes sharp and a little wild.
“I overreact because I remember what it felt like to lose you once,” he whispered. “I’m not doing it again.”
She stared at him. Eyes wide.
He leaned closer.
“You know what I think?” he murmured. “I think we should lock you in a nice, warm white cell. No windows. No exposure. No people. Just books and music and plants. I’ll bring you cookies. You’ll be safe.”
She laughed again, nervously. “That’s… extreme.”
“But you’ll be alive.” He crawled onto the bed, pulling her gently to him. “And that’s all I care about.”
She didn’t answer. Just pressed against his chest, too tired to resist.
He held her there.
And he didn’t leave until morning.
________
The others had patrol.
Dick had retreated to Bludhaven for an overdue meeting. Tim had returned to the Cave to track movement reports. Jason… well, Jason never reported anything. But he’d texted a blunt “You better not let anything happen to her” at 3 a.m.
Which left Damian. The least emotionally expressive. The most overbearing.
The perfect jailer.
He sat stiffly at her desk, legs crossed, scribbling something on school documents, half-watching her from the corner of his eye every third second. She lay bundled in bed, propped up by pillows, face still pale, still recovering.
But her eyes were clearer.
Too clear.
“You’re bored,” he muttered before she even said anything.
Her lips quirked. “Maybe.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“You were going to ask to leave the bed,” he said without looking up. “Or to go outside. Or to play some insipid game. None of those are acceptable.”
She frowned at him. “You’re no fun.”
He smirked. “You’re no doctor. Stay put.”
“I’m feeling better.”
“You’re still coughing.”
“You’re literally watching me like a hawk while doing your little paper assignments.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “This ‘little paper’ is an annotated comparative essay worth thirty percent of my literature grade.”
“Wow. You actually take grades seriously? Thought you didn’t need school because you’re a born genius.”
“Not when you’re around to be a walking medical hazard,” he snapped.
She stuck out her tongue. “You’re mean.”
“And you’re an idiot if you think you’re walking anywhere.”
Despite the bickering, the corners of her mouth twitched. There was something oddly familiar—comforting, even—in this dry, tightrope exchange. But Y/N wouldn’t be a Wayne if she wasn’t stubborn. The girl did try to sit up anyway, just to prove her cocky brother wrong. And the moment her feet touched the ground, the dizziness hit like a wave. Her limbs felt weak.
Her knees buckled.
But she didn’t fall.
Because Damian was there before gravity even finished its threat, arms tight around her waist, lifting her like she weighed nothing.
“Are you brain-damaged?” he hissed, lowering her back onto the bed with too much care. “Are you trying to collapse? Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all?”
She looked up at him, blinking. “I just wanted—”
“I don’t care what you wanted,” he growled. “You take one more step out of this bed and I will chain you to it.”
Her breath caught.
He noticed.
“…Tt.” His voice dipped, the edge blunting. “You know I would. Don’t test me.”
She bit her lip. Eyes shifting. But she nodded.
He sat beside her on the bed, silent for a while. She fiddled with the edge of the blanket.
“…I’m bored,” she said again, quieter this time. “And lonely.”
“I’m literally right here.”
“But you’re doing homework.”
He scoffed. But when she shifted slightly toward him, he didn’t move away.
Instead, he let her lean. He even tugged the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter and muttered something about her temperature. Her head settled against his arm. He stared at the wall, as if pretending not to notice how soft her breathing had become.
Minutes passed.
“…You can lie down, you know,” she whispered sleepily. “If you’re gonna be here.”
“I’m not—”
But she was already curled toward him, eyelids fluttering shut, breath warm against his side.
And Damian—after one more glance around the room, after one more stubborn sigh—lay down beside her. He let her arm rest against his. Let her cheek press into his sleeve. He didn’t move when she wrapped her fingers around his wrist.
Didn’t complain when Titus padded in and curled up by the foot of the bed.
Didn’t say a word when she sighed in her sleep, a whisper of “Dami” on her breath.
He watched her, for a long time.
He would never say it aloud. Not to her. Not to anyone.
But if she ever collapsed again like that—ever turned pale, ever broke into sweat, ever coughed until her voice cracked—he would burn every lab that sold her medicine. Destroy every hallway that made her walk too long. Fight the world’s air itself if it dared to make her lungs hurt.
He would become her walls. Her ceiling. Her gate. Her cage.
Because some flowers were too delicate to bloom in the open.
And no one would touch this one again.
Not under his watch.
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wttcsms · 9 months ago
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ when they act this way (i know i got 'em) !!
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ᝰ.ᐟ kiyoomi sakusa is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants most right now is you. too bad you’re the biggest fucking tease in the world. fine by him, though. because when he gets his hands on you — and he will — you’re going to see what exactly all your thirst traps did for him. ( fem!reader )
pairing kiyoomi sakusa x reader word count 3.6k content contains angry sex/rough sex, overstimulation, semi-public location, pop star!reader, cheeky/bratty to sub!reader 😭, he manhandles you a bit, creampie kinktober masterlist
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“What’s his fuckin’ problem?” Atsumu grumbles, tossing his sweaty practice jersey onto one of the benches, mindful of avoiding the bench Sakusa is currently occupying. He takes this extra precaution since he doesn’t want to get yelled at again by Sakusa, who did snap at Atsumu five seconds prior for almost getting his dirty jersey thrown on top of him. 
“Maybe you just stink, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto’s grinning, but Hinata shakes his head, gesturing for both of his teammates to come closer so he can whisper to them.
“I think Omi’s in a bad mood because he’s mad.” 
“No shit, Ginger!” Atsumu groans. “People who are in bad moods are usually mad. We didn’t need you to spell it out for us.” 
“You didn’t let me finish!” Hinata whisper-shouts. “He’s been looking at [Name] [Surname]’s Instagram since before practice ended.” 
“Who the hell is that?” Atsumu hisses, and Bokuto hits him on the shoulder. 
“Bro! That singer!”
“Yeah, that clears shit up.” Atsumu rolls his eyes, yanking open his locker to find a clean shirt to wear. “Why would Omi be mad at lookin’ at some girl’s Instagram?”
The trio is silent for a moment before a lightbulb practically appears over Bokuto’s head.
“Hey! Maybe she got a boyfriend, and he’s jealous!”
The group ponders this hypothetical. 
“Why would Kiyoomi get jealous, though?” Hinata asks. “It’s not like he’s dating her or anything.”
“Unless they had some weird situationship shit goin’ on.” Atsumu suggests. “Should we ask? Shoyo, go ask him.”
“Why do I have to ask?” 
“Nope. She didn’t post anything with a boyfriend…” Bokuto mumbles, scrolling through your feed. 
“Lemme see.” Atsumu snatches the phone from Bokuto’s hands and lets out a wolf whistle. “She’s hot. No wonder Omi-Omi’s pissed off.” 
“Huh?” Hinata whines. “Let me see, too!”
Atsumu faces the screen towards Hinata. “She’s the type of pretty that makes you mad just ‘cause ya can’t have her.” 
The girl on the screen is you. Posted not even an hour ago but already generating over six hundred thousand likes, Hinata understands what Atsumu means. Your back is turned towards the stage you’re on, but you’re looking back, giving the camera a coy smirk. You’ve got a rhinestone bedazzled microphone in one hand, and you’re wearing the shortest baby-blue minidress in existence; so short, in fact, that because your knees are bent just a bit, the current pose you’re sporting causes the fabric of your dress to rise, giving everyone viewing the image an unfiltered view of the built-in panties of the dress. The caption speaks volumes: too much for you to handle?. 
“You realize I could hear you idiots the whole entire time, right?” Sakusa doesn’t sound very happy, and Atsumu is quick to shove the phone back into Bokuto’s hands. “I’m not in a bad mood, and I’m not mad, and I don’t care about [Name] [Surname].” He grabs his gym bag, making a face at the trio, before storming out of the locker room. 
Sakusa’s upset, and his bad mood only sours more whenever he realizes that his idiotic teammates are more perceptive than he would like. Yes, he was mad at practice the minute he saw your latest post. And why wouldn’t he be? It’s clear that you’re fucking sub-posting him. You would’ve been better off just DM’ing him yourself and asking that stupid question.
Too much for you to handle? 
Fuck you, he thinks bitterly. Before realizing that, yes, that’s exactly what he wants to do to you. 
Everyone knows it, including you, which makes the whole situation even worse. Your mutual friends keep trying to persuade the two of you to finally ease the tension and just get a room, but Sakusa’s always been a touch too prideful. 
The two of you have always been constantly warring with each other; you’ve got the coy, flirty, cocky personality that doesn’t mesh well with his own stoic, cold, perpetually unimpressed one. You always flirt with him, but he’s seen you flirt with everyone — it’s basically your whole brand. It’s precisely what your popstar image is built upon — the fun, flirty idol who’s carefree and the poster girl for no-strings-attached. 
And Sakusa, for what it’s worth, is a very strings-and-all type of man. 
The reason why he won’t pursue you is because you’re the first person to catch him off guard. He can’t get a good read on you. He has no clue what your intentions actually are, and he’s not about to make a fool of himself by asking you if you’re serious when you told him you were.
That stupid fucking party — he knew he shoudn’t have attended. It was another teammate’s birthday, and he was hosting it at his place, and since it wasn’t a nightclub or anything, Sakusa assumed it was safe enough to attend. Too bad he forgot that his teammate was dating some other singer, someone who happens to be one of your friends. 
Everyone there kept pushing the two of you together, and as the night progressed and everyone was getting drunker and drunker, there was intoxicated, slurred commentary on how the two of you just needed to fuck once and get each other out of your systems. 
“It’s true.” Even with heels, you’re still shorter than Sakusa, and you have to get on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “You wanna know the reason why we haven’t had sex yet?” 
“Because I’m not interested.” He tells you flatly. He’s lying, and you know it. 
You pout, your plush bottom lip on display. “It’s because I don’t want you out of my system, and I’m hoping you don’t want to get rid of me either.” 
He snorts, even though his heart jumps at the thought. He wants to tell you to quit playing these games and be serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps himself guarded. “Like I said. Not interested.” 
“Why won’t you just give in?” You tilt your head. “You scared? Or maybe…” The dress you’re wearing makes your legs look even longer. Every centimeter of bare skin you expose has him spiraling into overdrive. He maintains his facade of nonchalance and looks you in the eyes, looking entirely unimpressed with your antics. “I’m too much for you to handle? Wouldn’t want to go around breaking Japan’s favorite outside hitter, after all.” 
You smile at him, giving a tiny giggle. “Yeah. I think that’s exactly the reason.” 
Sakusa is many things, and you somehow negate everything. He’s blunt; you either leave him speechless or determined to lie to save face. He’s generally unaffected by most people; you get under his skin. He doesn’t like being made out to be a fool; you make him feel like the biggest idiot, and other people know it too. He likes to have everything in his life sorted out properly; you and him have nothing but unfinished business. 
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Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa only came to your concert rehearsal purely because he wanted to get closure. When he walked into the stadium, hands in his pockets, watching you dance on the stage, he did not intend for you to immediately halt practice. He did not intend for you to gesture for him to follow you, and he did not intend to be taken backstage. There’s surprisingly less people back here than he thought, and you explain to him that it’s because rehearsal technically starts two hours later. You just wanted to run through it beforehand, to warm up. 
(Sakusa admires that about you; no one ever seems to acknowledge the hard work you put in, and it’s your work ethic, really, that slowly started to endear you to him.) 
Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa had absolutely no intention of fucking you backstage. Because, in his defense, you have a way of making him act entirely out of character.
The constant teasing, the back and forth, your coy smiles and flirtatious remarks that he can never truly decipher. And here you are, standing all pretty in your sparkly minidress, and you just keep taunting him. Even when he’s trying to have a serious conversation with you, all you do is skate around his questions. It’s like your default mode is set to toying with men. 
“Seriously,” he grits his teeth, backing you into one of the walls. You’re completely cornered by him now. It’s easy to forget how much bigger Sakusa truly is. He towers over you, makes you feel like a little kitten backed into an alleyway by a big dog. “You can’t take me seriously for one fucking second?”
His brows are furrowed, and he’s frowning. Somehow, the sight of him angry only gets you more excited. You like Sakusa. You like him much more than you originally anticipated, and this whole cat-and-mouse charade is just that: a charade. Of course you meant it when you kept flirting with him. But you’re not used to being the one who has to chase after someone, and you refuse to give in now. With both of you having too much of an ego to give in, it’s a battle of individual pride now. 
A battle that you think you might lose once you and him both realize that you’re pressing your thighs together to apply some pressure to the growing need between your legs. 
“Are you—?” He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Fucking slut. You really did want me to fuck you this whole entire time.” He takes another step towards you; there’s no more space for you to back into. You’re already pressed against the wall, and now he’s looming over you, an impossible obstacle to get over. Somehow, you don’t mind being trapped, as long as it’s Kiyoomi Sakusa that’s holding you down. 
“You wish.” You try to sound snarky, but it’s hard when Sakusa is looking down at you like that. Dark eyes, strands of hair hanging down his forehead, a cold, calculating smile on his face as he watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you struggle to breathe normally. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s capable of hearing how fast your heart is beating. 
“So you don’t want me to fuck you?” It should be illegal for his voice to get this low, to sound this husky. He’s leaning down far enough to where he can whisper this question in your ear, and your breath hitches as you feel thick fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. 
Right now, you are backstage, and your employees and team could be coming in any second now, and you don’t care. You don’t care, because all you care about is the fact that Kiyoomi Sakusa has you pressed against the wall, and his hand is up your dress, and he’s about to make his way into your panties. 
You gasp as you feel two of his fingers press directly against your clit, before traveling downwards and toying with your folds. There’s no actual penetration, just the tantalizing touch of his fingers rubbing against you, gathering up your slick. 
You make a tiny noise, and Sakusa chuckles softly. “You’re so wet, it feels like you want me, though.” The tips of his fingers prod at your entrance, only for him to abruptly remove his hand altogether, leaving your needy hole clenching and grasping at nothing. You whine as he examines his fingers, separating his index and middle fingers, allowing the both of you to watch closely as viscous strands of your juices coat his digits. He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning away from you. “I’ll let you get back to your rehearsal.” 
“No!” You shut your eyes, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. You bite down on your lip before opening your eyes, peering up at him through thick lashes. “I-I do want you.” You’re mumbling, but it’s clear Sakusa’s heard you, loud and clear. 
“Sorry, what was that?” 
You’re wet, unsatisfied, and absolutely down bad for Kiyoomi. You’ve wanted him for months now, and he has you right where he wants you: so needy that you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you backstage. The thrill of potentially being caught, the excitement of finally just giving in to your desires… 
“I want you, Sakusa. Please.” You beg him, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some sort of friction. “I need you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sakusa might sound cocky, but there’s something equally needy in his touch. He’s back to pressing you against the wall, leaving practically no space between the two of you. He plants his hand right back into your panties, stroking your folds a few times, gathering the slick only to insert two fingers right where you need him most. He watches your expression, the way you try to tilt your head back, your little moans of pleasure as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out. 
“You could’ve had me sooner if you weren’t busy playing coy all the damn time.” Sakusa frowns, as if the memory of how long you’ve had him chasing after you has suddenly been brought back to his attention. When he says this, he picks up speed, pistoning his digits. You’re getting even wetter now, the lewd sound of him toying with your cunt the only noise in this empty backstage. He’s adding a third finger into the mix, now, and your cunt tries to resist, fails to adapt to the thickness of three of his fingers. 
“Mmph — ‘Kusa, slow — fuck!” You whine out, unable to speak properly as your walls clamp down on his digits. He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing rough, unforgiving circles on the nub, never slowing down the pace of his fingers, even when you beg him to take it easy. “I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum!” You wail out, legs almost failing you from the force of your orgasm. 
The only thing keeping you upright is Sakusa himself. He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you steady, but even after watching you fall apart from just his fingers, Sakusa isn’t satisfied. You little brat — you’ve been depriving him of seeing your precious, pretty face you make when you cum, and as a result, you’ve also been depriving yourself of all the pleasure that could’ve been yours, that’s rightfully yours, all because you wanted him to chase after you. 
Well, he’s got you now. 
And he’s going to want to give you both what the two of you have been missing out on, plus interest. 
You’re still recovering from your climax, legs feeling like jelly, vision blurry as you try to blink out the haze of pleasure from your vision, when you feel him shove the fabric of the skirt of your dress into your open mouth. 
“Bite down on this.” He grunts out, and you follow his command as if it’s simply second nature to. “Be a good girl, and keep holding it up, okay?” 
You nod weakly, but it’s easier said than done when you almost let out a gasp as you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your soaked entrance. Your eyes go wide, and he smirks at the sight of the country’s most beloved pop star reduced to nothing but his little slut. Your mouth is shoved with the fabric of your dress, keeping it up so he can continue to admire the sight of your wrecked pussy, still sensitive from when he banged you with his fingers. Your panties are pulled down, a crumpled mess around your ankles, and there’s drool gathering ‘round the corners of your mouth, your lipgloss staining the fabric of your dress. Messy girl. His messy girl.
It’s easy for him to slide into your needy hole, and he hisses when he feels the way your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. There’s no better feeling, he decides, than the feel of your pretty, needy pussy yielding to him with absolutely no resistance. Even your cunt knows who owns it now. 
A soft whine, muffled by the dress occupying your mouth, slips from your lips. Sakusa’s cock is thick. Thicker than anyone else’s you’ve ever taken. It sinks into your snug cunt with a push forward that you feel entirely unprepared for, even though you’re so wet, it’s easy work for him to make himself at home in your pussy. 
His pace is unforgiving. He gives you no time to adjust, and he doesn’t seem to care about the way your pussy is still recovering from his fingers. He wastes no time in pounding into you, and even he’s panting at the exertion he’s exercising. Some tiny strands of his black curls are stuck on his forehead from the sweat, and you can’t help but think that Sakusa is beautiful, even when he’s scowling and fucking into you with a fervor that feels like he’s treating this like the only time he’s going to fuck you. 
You hope that isn’t true. You knew that the minute you’d get a taste of Sakusa, you’d never want to let him go. 
“Fuck.” He hisses, never slowing down his pace. He’s being rough, almost brutal. It’s like he’s chasing after his own pleasure, forcing you to find your release all on your own. But the thing is, it’s so easy to come apart. It’s so easy to come apart when you think about how this is Sakusa’s cock battering into you, how it’s Sakusa that’s panting and groaning from pleasure, how it’s Sakusa that is making your pussy his. You keep clenching down on his length, making it harder for him to continuously thrust in and out of you. “Fuck.” He repeats. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go.” 
You can’t speak, can’t tell him that it’s the truth, that you want him here forever. 
The echoing sound of the entrance of the building opening and then slamming close has your eyes going wide with fear. Someone has just entered. 
You’re now acutely aware of how loud the noises the two of you are making. The constant wet, slapping noises of his skin against yours, your messy pussy making a mess between your thighs and on his dick, his groans, your weak whimpers. All of it is now suddenly amplified as you listen in fear — and excitement — as footsteps echo around the hall. 
“[Name]?” Someone calls out. Your assistant. Fuck. 
You look up at Sakusa, curious as to why he’s still not stopping, but he only holds a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. “I haven’t finished yet.” He whispers into your ear, and you shake your head, panicking. 
“No? You want me to stop?” He buries his cock to the fucking hilt, shoving himself so deeply inside of you, you let out a surprised, pleasured squeal. “I’ll stop if you cum on my cock. For a slut like you, that should be easy.” 
You want to protest, you want to snap back that you are not a slut, but it’s hard to prove him wrong when his words, his cock, only have you tightening around him. He chuckles as he feels the pressure of your pussy clamping down on his dick, and he resumes fucking into you. 
Your hips start to buck needily against his, the pleasure making you feel delirious and reckless. You seem to have ditched all common sense, and as the footsteps continue to echo throughout the building, sounding closer and closer to where the two of you are currently fucking like rabbits in heat, you only succumb to the delirious, delicious heat of pleasure. Legs wrapping around his tight waist, you succumb hopelessly and happily to the pleasure he seems to effortlessly wring out of you, your body needily twisting and pushing against him, needing more of him. Your moan is long and would’ve been drawn out had he not pressed a calloused palm against your mouth. The dress fabric falls from your lips, and your moan is silenced as you stare up at him. He doesn’t look angry, just pleased. 
He’s turned you into such a little fucked out mess that he made you cum on his cock, despite the fact that there is someone else roaming this place, calling out for you. 
If only he got here sooner; then, he could’ve played with you for a bit longer, toy with you the way you’ve been toying with him. You’re lucky that he doesn’t plan on getting caught being balls deep in you, even though the idea of announcing to the world that you’re his gets him off. 
Muffling his own moan of pleasure by biting down on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, Sakusa finishes deep into your wrecked cunt, letting out ropes and ropes of hot, white spurts of cum. He’s panting, removing his mouth from your skin, licking at the bite he left on your soft skin, as if to apologize. 
Both of your chests are rising and falling, the two of you greedily gulping for more air. He pulls out, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of your cunt. 
“This isn’t over.” He mutters, pulling up your panties, a puddle of his cum starting to pool into the seat of your underwear. He fixes your dress, smooths the fabric, and plants a surprisingly chaste kiss on your spit-slick lips. “Unless this really was a one time thing?” 
“As if this was ever going to be a one time thing.” You’re too tired to roll your eyes, but when he smiles, you find enough energy to smile back. “There’s a backdoor over there that you can leave. No one will see you.” 
“I’ll text you later.” He tells you, straightening his back and walking to the exit you just directed him to. “Like I said, this isn’t over.” 
Everyone on your team is worried when, during rehearsals, you complain that your legs are too sore to do the choreography.
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suncoved · 1 year ago
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HANDS OF AN ANGEL ! — RAFE CAMERON (18+ smut mdni)
in which, washing rafe's hair didn't go as you planned.
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you looked up slowly from your book to the sound of your bedroom door opening roughly, rafe trudging in lethargically. your eyes followed him around the room as he threw off his clothes one by one, a trail of fabric following him until he was just left in his boxers.
you rolled your eyes at his unnecessary messiness and let your eyes travel back down to the off-white pages of your book.
you could only read about three words before rafe huffed rather dramatically across the room.
you ignored his annoying sighs and groans until it was physically impossible to not pay attention to him, slamming your book closed and looking at him from the bed.
"what is it rafey?" you asked sweetly, even though you knew what he was gonna ask. "shower" he said simply, nudging his head towards the bathroom from where he stood right outside it. "can't baby, i already put all my lotions and oils and stuff, you're gonna have to have one without me" you answered, watching his face turned into that of a five-year-olds if they were just told they couldn't go to disneyland that day.
"ok" he huffed, turning around and entering the bathroom, but leaving the door open so you could see everything. you giggled softly, turning your attention back to the book in your hands.
you only perked up when you heard the tap of the bath turn on, not the shower. rafe was having a bath?
if there was one thing you had to know about rafe cameron, is that he hated baths, more than an average human being did. he only tolerated them because he could feel you up more in the bath than in the shower because of the close proximity.
but he always took a shower after because he doesn't like 'bathing in his own filth for half and hour'
you itched to get up and hop in the bath with him, but that's what he wanted, because why else would he torture himself like that?
after about 5 minutes of reading the same line over and over again, you untangled yourself from your bedsheets and made your way over to your vanity. reaching your hand into the brown paper shopping bag, you pulled out bottles of shampoo, conditioner, hair masks and hair oils, making your way over to the bathroom with an arm full of hair products.
he heard you from a mile away, staring straight at you as you walked into his trap. "got you baby" he said, hinting at the fact that he was having a bath, for you.
"nope" you said, padding your way over to the bathtub. he looked at you quizzically at the new products you had with you.
you were glad that even though he was very very naked, there were mounds of bubbles covering him, his face and shoulders the only thing showing above the water. because after you spent nearly an hour after your shower rubbing oils and creams over your skin, you really didn't want to end up in the bath with rafe
"what've you got there bug?" he asked as you dragged your soft bathmat to the edge of the bathtub so you could have something to kneel on, placing the products softly on the floor.
"gonna wash your hair rafe" you state, reaching over and running your hand softly through his wet hair. "yeah?" he asked, tilting his head softly in admiration. "i went out and got some stuff for your hair type, not that you need any help with your hair at all! i just wanna do stuff for you like you do stuff for me." you quickly got quieter by the end of your sentence, avoiding eye contact with him.
"c'mere baby" he whispers, matching your soft tone. you hesitantly look at him, biting your lip nervously. your chin felt wet as he gripped it softly, bringing your lips to touch his as he kissed you. he pulled back first, resting his forehead on yours as he looked at you. "thank you, baby. i don't do the stuff i do for you to get repaid, but i love that you think of me"
you beam at his words, leaning down again and placing one last peck on his lips.
you pull up the sleeves of your long-sleeved white pyjama shirt before you lean over to squirt a generous amount of shampoo on your palm.
after rubbing your hands together to create a milky white texture in the shampoo, you leaned over the tub. the white acrylic made contact with where your bra wire would be had you been wearing one, oblivious that as you were reaching your arms to rafe's hair your tits were being pushed together, his eyes immediately staring holes into your cleavage.
"your hair is gonna be so soft rafey!" you exclaimed, using your acrylics to massage the shampoo into his scalp, making his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure.
you pulled back after sudsing up the liquid, biting your lip in concentration as you placed your hands on the side of his head and lowered his hair in the water.
he looked up to you, your hair hanging over him, your stare so concentrated, and your tits fully in his face.
rafe knows you didn't notice how much harder it was getting to hide his hard-on under the now less soapy water, the combination of you scratching his scalp and your cleavage fully on view making him spiral.
"ok, all done! once you get out, ill-dry it and put some oil on the ends." you voiced after raking the conditioner and leave in treatment through his hair, leaning down to kiss him after he made a come here motion with his fingers.
what you were unaware of though, is that as rafe was deepening the kiss between you two, he was pulling his hands out of the warm water and straight to your chest.
"rafe!" you gasped, pulling back instinctively as his hands made your once white shirt now see-through at your nipples.
"shh baby, c'mere. don't make me ask you again" he groaned, sitting up straighter so he could use his hands to pull your body towards his.
as he began another steamy kiss with you, he traced your nipples through your shirt, making you shiver. "rafe... i don't wanna get all wet" you whined, pulling back for a moment, giving him a chance to latch his mouth onto one of your tits.
"ill help you put more cream on later, now let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours" he rasped, pulling your shirt and shorts off as you came to a stand in front of him.
"can't believe my baby would think that i would let her win and sit out there reading her book. so naive" rafe cooed, his soft mannerisms of holding your hand until you made it safely in the tub being a complete juxtaposition of the nasty words he had uttered before.
you melted in the somehow still-warm water as he sucked at your neck, his hands roaming all around your body until he made it to your core.
"you're lucky we're in the tub bunny, because i'm gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna make a mess" he whispered into your ear, bringing a strong hand up to rest firmly around your neck, and the other now making circles on your clit.
you looked up at him in a daze, you're eyes already glossed over as you laid your head against his chest. due to the confined space, you could already feel his hard length resting below your ass, making you squirm.
he entered one finger into you without warning, making you gasp. "shhh, quit whining. you're alright." rafe commanded, beginning to pump his finger in and out of you. he placed soft kisses on your head, his hand on your throat providing a comforting presence to you somehow.
rafe always made sure that during these times you felt loved and appreciated by him, knowing that your mind had the tendency to roam with thoughts 24/7.
"ready for another baby?" rafe asked, your walls somehow still tight around his finger. your hum in reply earned rafe to tighten his hold around your neck, urging you to use your words.
"yes rafey, please" you replied, snuggling more in his chest and looking up and him with glossy eyes. "ok, are you sure you can take it?" he teased, earning a whine to come from your chapped lips.
he slipped another finger into you, pumping them in and out as you squirmed. "good girl, such a good girl for me" he praised, beginning to pick up speed as you gleamed at his praise.
"g-gonna come rafey" you whined, gasping as he quickly pulled his fingers out of you. you immediately turned your head to look up at him in shock, annoyed that he wouldn't let you come to his reach.
"don't look at me like that brat, you can cum on my cock" he remarked, placing another kiss on your head as you whined once more.
he pulled his hand cock to line up with your entrance, stroking your cheek as he slid into you softly. "shh, your alright sweet girl. i got you" rafe reassured in response to your gasp.
he groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, stalling for a moment to look at your expression before beginning to pump in and out. "shit, most perfect pussy i ever had. taking my whole cock like the perfect girl you are, love you so much" he rambled, his mind in a haze as you squeezed around him.
he began picking up his pace, slamming into you from below as the water rippled from his movements. you were to cock drunk to worry that the water could splash out of the tub, gasping as he brought a finger down to circle your clit.
"rafe" you whined as you tightened around him, signalling to him that the knot in your tummy was about to burst. "i got you baby, milk my cock"
you squeezed your eyes shut as you came around him, hearing his groan echo in your ears as he shot his load inside of you. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as he worked you through your orgasm, slowing the circling of his fingers as he stroked your hair as whispered in your ear
"so perfect for me baby, so so perfect"
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immortaljai · 3 months ago
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Luddite ass nigga.
1.2 words (sigh), poly, age gap, fear & tension (?), Stack x reader x Mary, MLWLW
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Luddite: Indicates a fear or strong dislike of technology
Got this idea from the end of the movie.
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Imagine you, young, turnt, black, small knotless bohemi down to your ass (too much? mb) out clubbing with you friends..well you behind the bar serving your friends as they party. Okay fine you're at work but you get off in an hour so what's the big deal, these college loans not gonna pay themselves. Pouring a wasted man who has been hitting on you the entire time you feel..a weight shift in the atmosphere you look up and around the basic club seeing people grinding on each other, people recording for instagram with a wack ass hookah, you know the usual. Until your eyes land on two people. One tall jacked black man his hair nice and faded on the sides wearing some nice ass clothes, Jordans fresh out the box, toothpick in his mouth, next to him this fine fair skinned woman her hair curled nicely as she walked next to him the same confidence radiating off of her (gay ass). The music booming “HOW I LOOK” blasting through the club speakers “YOOO Y/N” you snapped out of it looking at your homegirl who look already wasted “Gimmie a free shot guuurl” internally rolling your eyes you looked at her and shook your head “hell nah you hears about these people going missing down south the hell you thinking” you said handing her a cool glass of water, and watching her frown but thank you as she walked away.
You sat there for another twenty minutes. Serving drinks. But your eyes always landed back on them the way she didn't leave his side not once yet, they weren't even drinking just..observing, it was weird, but you were gonna mind your business. Another five minutes went by with loud ass music playing no one at the bar, everyone too wrapped up in “getting some” or throwing ass. But you had about twenty more minutes left so you were on your phone, as you scrolled through your instagram you heard one..or two chairs scrap against the floor “what can i get you-” looking up you saw them both looking at you their eyes covered slightly in glasses. “Yea can I get..a whiskey” his voice thick and southern like, almost vintage and not of this time he spoke with confidence you never seen. You nodded quickly and turned to the lady who hadn't spoken a word yet but her eyes were already on you her glasses slightly tilted down as she smiled her red lips showing a few sharp teeth you didn't pay attention to at the time. “Lemme get a…bloody mary please” you felt the air get heavy for a second before turning around your braids moving with you as you quickly made the drinks. A bead of sweat slowly drips down your face as you struggle to get yourself together. Handing them the drinks you quickly and efficiently noped away from them to the other side of the bar drinking a big gulp of water.
Ten minutes passed you had about another ten left, at this point you were over everything and only wanted to go home, watching tiktok on your phone one airpod in you were called over by the lady with piercing eyes, you quickly stood up and walked over “bro what the fuck is wrong with me” you though to yourself as you stood infront of them “How..can i help you” you said avoiding eye contact like the plague “well i seen you there on your phone and I was just wonderin..if you could teach my dear love here how to use one”. Now momma ain't raise no fool..and this aint the 1930s but this lady…was asking you how to teach them how to use a..phone. You raised you eyebrow and slightly laughed “you-you forreal?” you asked in a choked laugh, making her eyebrows furrow the man finally spoke up “It would be my honor to learn from someone so young and..experienced” his sultry voice spoke up as he tilted his head slightly the dark and lights making him look even better “Young? You're a few years older than me”...the silence was loud as they both looked at you, her straight face slowly turning into a cunning smile. As the silence grew louder the small weight came back “I'll pay you” the man said snapping you out of it. Now you had a choice to tell these attractive fear gaging people no…or show them how to use the phone in about…8 minutes. He held up a stack of money pulling out a smooth 500, making you raise your eyebrows before taking it and slowly making your way from behind the counter “this is just for the money” you thought. You looked up from the floor seing the lady already moved a seat down making you sit in the middle. Sitting down you sighed lightly the seat warm and comfortable as you took the phone out. A sleek new version of the iphone matte black coming into your palms, your fingers brushing his as a shock ran through you. “By the way i'm Mary..and that's Stack” The lady said right into your ear making you jumo and hold the phone on your beating heart “DEAR GOD-” you yelped before sighing and nodding “Right” you said turning back to the phone collectively missing the smirk the two shared between each other.
“So right here is the power button, this right here is facial recognition, and then these are all your apps and hey siri take me to the app store” as soon as it took you too the app store you thanked siri and she said you're welcome effectively making stack raise his eyebrow “The phone talk?” that made you look up at him, “yes..it's basically..ai” showing him a few apps through the store you finally made it to the social media. “And this is instagram basically you follow people and like celebrities and shit” you said handing back the phone to them before noticing you were squished between them Mary looking over your shoulder leaning you you and stack pressed against you. “Whatchu mean follow?” Stack asked as Mary nodded “..bro…luddite ass nigga, basically people you know or are friends with you can follow and talk to them send stupid reels and shit” you said standing up emotionally drained as you yawned looking at your phone.
“Well im clocking out imma see you guys?” hopefully…hopefully not you thought before starting to walk away “Aye..whats ya instagram” she asked curiously before you could leave. “Uhm..” you said scratching the back of your neck before writing it down and bidding them a quick goodbye. As you made it into your car your eyes tired and feet aching your phone beeped with a nonfiction “S&MFANG has followed you”. ROlling your eyes you sighed pulling back out of the club the red sign that said “HEAVEN” written above as you drove off into the night. But little did you know that wasn't the end, not by a long shot. Mary and Stack watch you leave from the darkness of the night as you drive away they look at eachother “She pretty aint it?” stack said “Nervous little mouse” Mary said letting the man whose blood she just drank go, that just so happened to own the place. “Keep her safe eye on her yea?” Stack said as Mary patted the now vamp go. “Of course.”
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This was supposed to be a short oneshot.
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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
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Meant To Be (2)
Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> The day you disappeared from the world.
Disclaimer: This is part two/prequel to Meant To Be. Angst, Fluff, Bucky and Reader having feelings for each other, platonic!Howard Stark, mentions of death, swearing, mourning. Not Proof Read.
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You pounded your fist on the front door only to be greeted by Mr Jarvis. 
“Ms Y/l/n.”
“Sorry, Mr Jarvis. I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Is he here?”
“Still in bed, Ms.”
Jarvis just opened the door wider for you to step inside. “I was just about to take him his morning breakfast.”
“I’m afraid it will have to be on the go this morning, Mr Jarvis.”
“Yes, Ms.”
As you had done for as long as you could remember since meeting Howard Stark, you headed towards his bedroom in order to pull him from his bed. 
“Alright, Stark. Get up.”
Howard just groaned from under the covers. It sounded like he said “Five more minutes,”. 
“Nope. Not this morning. The Colonel has been on my ass all week about you and I’ll be damned,” you pulled the heavy covers from his body. “If I let my ass get reprimanded because of your ass. So, get up.”
Howard groaned again. 
“Mr Jarvis!” You called out behind you. “You wouldn’t happen to have an ice cold pitcher of water by any chance.”
“Why, yes. In fact, I’m just readying Mr Stark one now.”
That got Howard up out of bed. He practically sprang to the other side. “No. You’re not doing that again.”
“Get up when I tell you and I’ll never do it again.”
“I’m up. Are you happy now, sweet cheeks?”
You deadpanned him before throwing the clean washcloth that lay on his bedside table. Howard was known for washing his face first thing before he got out of bed. According to him, it kept him looking “young and attractive,”. 
“Get cleaned up. I’ll be outside.”
Giving Howard a ride into work, you were both greeted with almost all the SSR members hustling around the place. 
“Is something going on today that I’m not aware of?”
“It’s testing day,” Howard told you as he lay his briefcase over the chair in front of him. 
Meanwhile, you were hanging your coat up on the coat rack, taking the space in around you as Howard walked away. But you couldn’t stand comprehending the super soldier in the corner, blushing as Peggy accidentally touched his hand, or the boys everyone knew had lied on their enlistment form but still allowed it anyway, or the ego-centric scientist washing a hand over one of the girl’s asses, for too long. 
Within minutes of you entering the building, Bucky had found you. 
“How long do you think it’ll take today?”
You jumped a little, holding onto your coat on the rack a little tighter. “Jesus- Do you always have to sneak up on me?”
“It’s not my fault you don’t hear me.”
“That’s because you walk as if you’ve got a secret to hide.” Letting go of your coat, you picked your files up from the main desk, Bucky hot on your heels. 
“Not true. Well, maybe a little. But you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Well, looking at it now…” You and Bucky paused side by side. 
You found that, often when standing together, there was barely an inch of room between you and Bucky. Which, although you were managing to handle, was doing no good for the crush you realised you had slowly developed over the last couple of months. 
He’d just sat there across the desk, looking tired and all kinds of handsome. You’d seen him sitting like that a hundred times or more, but for some reason that night was when your stomach decided to erupt with butterflies. 
But, you were handling it. 
You thought you already had it handled until three days ago when Peggy cornered you in the ladies bathroom. Josie, one of the secretaries, had sauntered her way over looking all perfect and pretty. She’d touched his arm, leaning in close to him. He’s smiled at her and, despite seeing him smile at plenty of girls like that, even recently. For the first time, you’d been jealous. 
It was an ugly emotion and you didn’t like yourself very much for feeling it. Bucky- James. He was your friend. One of your best friends. Someone you could talk to about anything. There wasn’t a single part of you willing to risk that. 
“I’d say we’re a few months away from something actually happening.”
Bucky scoffed. “He’ll ask her out. He just needs a little coaching, that's all.”
“Coaching?” You laughed. “From who? You?”
Bucky seemed a little offended. “I’ve had plenty of successful dates.”
You tried to not let that sting as much as it did. 
“He just needs some confidence.”
You chuckled. “Okay, Romeo. But I know I’m right. And here.”
You pushed a file into his chest. 
“What’s this?” 
You tried to ignore the feeling that erupted inside of you when his hand brushed yours. 
“Your paperwork. I saw you sneak it into my pile last night.”
You continued on walking, Bucky walking a little further behind you.
“You know, if I knew the army contained this much paperwork, I would have had second thoughts.”
You just threw a smile over your shoulder to him, watching as he sat at his desk. 
Steve’s desk was joined onto his, meanwhile, directly diagonal to Bucky was your desk. In front of you was Peggy’s desk. So, although Peggy and Steve would have to turn a little to look at each other, you and Bucky had a direct eyeline to one another. 
Something else that didn’t help the crush you were harbouring on him. 
There was just something…handsome about the way he looked when he was concentrating. In his own little world, flipping and writing between pages. And for a moment, you’d wonder if that is what it would have been like if you’d gone to school together. 
You’d been with him to plenty of museums and tech conventions. You’d seen the true side of Bucky. One that was rarely seen. His nerdy wonder and enjoyment. 
It was barely two hours before Bucky stood and walked over to your desk. He had tried thirty minutes ago but the Colonel had walked by his desk, stopping in front of him since he’d caught him staring at you across the room. 
The Colonel had just hummed, however, before muttering something to himself. 
“Just as bad as the others.”
Bucky had wondered what the Colonel meant, until he followed his next eyeline over to the map desk where Steve was standing with Peggy. 
Then he moved on. 
Bucky knocked on your desk twice to get your attention. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I was wondering if you’d want to come with me on Saturday.”
“Aren’t we working on Saturday?”
Bucky shook his head. “No. We’re both off. There’s a new exhibit being put on at the museum and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
Bucky had attended plenty of museum and tech conventions alone. But his favourite ones were the ones where you’d attend with him. He got to be closer to you. He’d hear you talk about whatever thing you’d been waiting to talk to him about. He got to hear your laugh and by the end of the night, he got to hold your hand. 
You smiled. “You need me to run the ladies off again?”
Bucky chuckled. “Maybe. Just so long as you stay.”
You looked up at him. This man. 
“Okay.”
Bucky smiled. “Pick you up at four?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
That was when a small alarm sounded and Bucky responded to it. 
“I better go,” he said before running off. But then he came back. “Make sure Peggy doesn’t touch my desk.”
You nodded. “I promise.”
Bucky smiled. “See you soon, doll.”
You smiled, watching him jog down the hall and towards the control room. Meanwhile, Howard appeared around the corner. 
“Y/n?”
You knew that look on his face. He needed your help.
“What have you done?”
Standing up, you left your things at your desk and followed him through the building and towards the basement. 
“I haven’t done anything. Well, not yet.”
You sighed. “Show me.”
Entering the room, it was just yourself, Howard and two of his researchers. “The chemical equation is wrong.”
“Don’t you know how to fix it?”
“It doesn’t need to be fixed.”
You looked at him as you examined his machinery. “I understand you’re incredibly smart, Howard. But you’re not making any sense.”
Howard sighed. “The last time I used it, it worked. My math is never wrong.”
“Then change it.”
“I can’t. Any higher and it won’t just melt the machinery, it’ll melt human skin.”
You grimaced at the thought. “You know, if you boys let women do more of the talking, there is a higher chance that war wouldn’t be taking place.”
“Well, right now there’s a war going on in here. Can you…can you help?”
You took a look at his blackboard. 
“It’s not your math.”
“I know that.”
You shrugged. “Have you tested a model of this size before?”
“That’s what today is for.”
“Uh, Mr Stark?” One of the researchers popped their heads up. “I think I might have found our problem.”
You watched as Howard walked over towards the control panel that had been recently forced open. 
“Well- what is that? Oh, jesus. Is that a bolt? What’s it doing-”
As Howard pulled it out, everyone heard a big clunk!
“Is the building still standing?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 
Howard looked around at the walls and along the floor. Nothing had cracked the concrete. As far as he was aware; the building was still standing. 
“Yep. Must be one of the inner mechanisms. Hand me that crowbar?”
You spun around until you saw the workstation and picked up the rusting metal crowbar. 
“Military issue. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she gets the job done.” Howard explained as he began to yank one of the side panels off. 
“We figure, if we can make this thing industrial size, we’ll be able to fit it on top of a tank. That way, if it fits on one, it can melt one.” Howard continued to talk as he lay on the floor and practically got inside of the machine itself. 
You crouched down on the floor, peering inside. There had to be at least thirty main electrical wires, feeding some kind of blue and green substance into tubes. 
“You become more peculiar the longer I know you, Howard.”
From his space on the floor, he looked at you and smiled. “Thanks. Pass me that thing, will you, toots?”
Rolling your eyes, you moved behind you and reached for the socket wrench that had been laying on the floor. You handed it to him before standing up and looking around the rest of the machine. 
“Do I even wanna know when you came up with this idea?”
“Uhh.”
Howard was stalling. Usually when he stalled it was because he had been in another tryst with a woman who was most definitely off limits. 
“Alright,” you chuckled. 
Howard sighed. “You know what, you’re always on at me about my…friends.”
“That’s what you’re calling them now? Not production assistants?”
“What about you and Bucky, huh? I see the way you two look at each other. You’re really gonna tell me nothing is going on there.”
“We’re just friends, Howard.”
“Friends, my ass.” Howard lifted himself from the ground to peek out of his hiding place to look at you. You were standing with one heel across the other, a hand on your hip, staring down at him like you were his mother scolding him for doing something wrong in school…again. 
“You and I are friends. No matter how many times I try to make it something else.” He muttered that last part to himself but you heard it anyway and chuckled. 
Howard was a flirt. A shameless flirt. It just so happened that, before Peggy, you were one of the first to let the flirting comments fall. 
Howard disappeared back under the machine for a moment. 
“You and Bucky, however, are not.”
“Howard-”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Going to a museum.”
“With?” Howard pressed. 
“Bucky.” 
Finally, Howard stood from the ground and looked at you across the console desk. 
“It’s not what you think.”
Howard just smiled. “You and Barnes are going on, yet another, date. You like him. I know, because every time you look at him, you get the same goofy look in your eyes that Mr Jarvis does when he looks at his wife.”
You tried to hide your embarrassment, but it only seemed to come out as annoyance against Howard. 
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. And, I also know,” Howard was moving around the console towards you. “That Bucky has deep feelings for you.” 
Howard was standing in front of you. He didn’t have to raise his voice anymore. 
“He likes you, Y/n. And we’re at war. I don’t like thinking like that, but there’s no escaping the truth. We’re at war and a lot more people are gonna be losing their loved ones. Maybe it’s about time you took a chance with yours.”
You just stared at Howard. He had a point. 
“He’d be lucky to have you.”
You took a breath before turning away. “I thought we were down here to start testing, not discuss my…that.”
Howard smiled. “You know I’m right,” he practically sang as he walked away, wielding his wrench like a conductor. 
Ten minutes later, everything was seemingly ready. 
As one of the other researchers left to go and get the Colonel, Howard started the controls up so everything would be ready by the time people arrived. 
Only, as Howard started flicking buttons, you stood up. 
“Howard.”
Something was beginning to shake in the room. 
“Is it meant to be doing that?”
“No…”
Howard moved around the panels to take a look at the dials. Everything seemed normal. 
Then it started to shake even more. 
It was almost like your washing machine had been set onto a fast spin, but this time you were inside of the rattling machine. 
“Howard!”
“I’m on it.”
“What can I do?”
Howard didn’t answer you, but it didn’t matter. Because within seconds, the arm of the machine started going haywire and as Howard yelled at everyone to get down, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. 
As Howard finally shut down the machine from the inside, tearing at one of the wires, the building stopped shaking and the Colonel, along with Peggy, ran inside. 
“Stark! What the hell is going on?!” The Colonel yelled. 
“I wish I could tell you.” Howard stood, his legs still shaking from the movement in the floor. “Something must have come loose.”
“What the hell is that?” 
Peggy pointed and everyone looked at what it was. A smattering of blue dust and what could only be described as a bullet exit wound, cracking into the concrete wall. 
More people joined, running inside asking questions but fell silent when they saw the damage. 
Cracks along the walls, machinery and different liquids on the floor, and a large crack in place of where you had been standing. 
“Y/n? Where’s Y/n?”
“Stark! Where is my Agent?!”
“I…I don’t…” Howard was in shock. 
Peggy sprang into action. Maybe you hadn’t been hit. Maybe you’d taken cover or not been in the room at all. People started following her orders to find you. 
“Stark, where is my agent?” The Colonel asked as he approached him. “Now, she better not be dead or else I’ll have your neck for this.”
Howard shook his head. “You need a body to be dead.”
They both knew that to be true, but considering the fight they were having with Red Skull and a Super Soldier, it was quite plausible to have a death without a body. 
Meanwhile, down one of the hallways, Peggy ran into both Bucky and Steve. 
“Hey, what the hell was that shaking-”
“Have you seen Y/n?”
“I thought she was with Howard.”
Peggy shook her head. “Something went wrong.”
“What went wrong?”
“We, uh, we don’t know yet. But I just…”
As Steve took Peggy by the shoulder, Bucky made a run for it down to Howard’s lab. He saw the Colonel sat with Howard, but his commander quickly stood up and walked over to him. 
“Barnes-”
“Where is she? What happened to her?”
“We’re still trying to figure that one out.”
In the days that followed, Bucky didn’t know his head from his feet. He’d just spoken to you that morning. You were meant to be meeting him for dinner that evening. He was meant to be taking you out that Saturday. 
Nobody could bring themselves to clear away your desk. It was just how you’d left it. Open files, half finished paperwork, scrap pieces of paper with ideas and things written down. 
But when the Colonel got word someone was coming in to replace you, he went to one person. 
“Son?”
It was after hours and Bucky was yet to leave his desk. Mostly, his eyes had been focused on your desk, where you should have been sitting, scolding him for staying too late because it meant you had to stay late. Then he’d tell you, you didn’t have to stay, to which you tell him you wouldn’t let him work alone. 
Bucky looked up and saw the empty box in his arms. 
“Someone needs to clean out her desk and I think it should be you. They’ve got a replacement coming tomorrow.”
Bucky swallowed down his fear; accepting you were gone for good. And he took the box. 
“I’m so sorry for your loss, son.” The Colonel held his shoulder as he stood up. “I know she meant a lot to you. You meant a lot to her, too.”
The Colonel had seen the red, tearful eyes of Bucky for the last few days. The dejected look each time he looked up and found your desk empty, the bow of his head as he’d hide his face every time someone said your name. 
It had taken both the Colonel and Steve to pull him from Howard’s throat. 
And now he was left to clear out your desk. 
And for a while, he managed to keep his emotions in check. Sweeping away your files, adding them to his pile to finish for you. Clipping all your notes together, cleaning away the ink stains of your fingerprints by the edge of your desk. 
Then taking the pictures from your desk, seeing your smiling face, placing them inside the box. 
Then he found a key. 
Bucky had pulled out your chair and sat down before opening up the locked drawer of your desk. That’s when all control over his emotions left him. 
Inside, along with some more of your personal belongings, was a notepad. Each date had been crossed off, as had the things listed under it. Except for the one that you had started at the beginning of the week. 
It was all the things you wanted to talk to him about; at dinner, walking home, and on Saturday. You made a list so you wouldn’t forget or accidently leave anything out. 
And for a second, he smiled. 
Then he cried. 
You’d never get to talk to him about these things. He’d never hear your voice again. He’d never see you smile or roll your eyes or scoff or hear you yell at him. He’d never hear you laugh again.
It was hours before he left your desk and went home, keeping your box of things under his bed in case you came back. Howard was adamant that you would. The blast wasn’t strong enough to kill, but it was strong enough to melt. But, he hadn’t made it to melt human skin. 
So you shouldn’t have died. 
You couldn’t be dead. 
You had to be alive…somehow. 
And that was the thought, for as much as he wanted to kill Howard, Bucky kept with him. 
That you were still out there, somewhere, and that you’d come home. 
But the longer time went on, the harder that idea was to accept. 
People started to mourn in their own ways. Mr Jarvis and his wife set out your favourite flowers on their dinner table on your birthday. The same flowers Howard started growing in his garden a week after you had disappeared. The Colonel had sent Peggy to make sure the gravestone issued for you was just right. Nothing too fancy; after all, there was still hope you’d come back. Steve, along with the other Howling Commandos, raised a toast in your honour. 
But when the day came that Bucky fell from the train…
Only one thing made him smile. And that was that he’d get to see you again. 
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everlastingserenitys · 3 months ago
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SOMETHING 'BOUT YOU
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summ. your overworked, under fucked (older) co-worker who couldn't help but end up inside you after being assigned for a "group project" together.
pairing. xavier x f!reader cw. dilf!xavier, p in v, fingering, making out, cumming inside, tension, almost passing out during sex a/n. had to write sum for my bf im so HORNY for him
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Getting paired with your co-worker who practically looks like a living corpse was not on your agenda. The problem was, that this idiot sleeps during half of work time, only participates when he's called on and on top of that, barely shows up.
So you knew you were fucked when you had to do this stupid project with him. You tried to convince your boss, several times actually, to change partners but a flat ‘nope’ was slapped on your face. Every. Single. Time.
You still had hope, at least some little hope that your boss would change partners for you, but…
“If you ask again, you’re fired.”
Fuck.
Now, there wasn’t anything particularly wrong with Xavier, looks wise at least, it's just the way he presented himself at work. No one talked to him–mainly because he’s sleeping all day, but you? You’ve talked to him a couple times, and each time was a flat boring conversation.
The first time you tried to make friends in this workplace you would ask everyone the same question, going along the lines of, ‘how was your day’ or ‘how is work for you?’. But the responses you got from Xavier were just boring one worded answers like, ‘mhm’ or ‘its good.’
After those boring conversations, and getting practically nowhere you stopped talking to him.
But now, after your boss threatened to fire you, you immediately went over to Xavier's desk. His head was resting between his closed arms, he was probably sleeping like a baby right now, and you didn't want to stand here forever, you just needed to get the project over with.
“Xavier.” you mumble, slightly shaking his sleeping figure, hoping he’d wake up soon, but of course he didn’t. An annoyed sigh escaped your lips, your fingers slightly linger on his defined biceps poking through his shirt, since when was he this ripped?
“Xav–”
“Mhm” Xavier groaned, lifting himself off of his arms and blinking his half lidded eyes at you.
You take your fingers off of his arms and rest your hand along the cubicle opening, leaning your face against your hand before you spoke, “we got a group project, if you even knew about it,” the last few words left your lips in a low murmur and a hint of amusement flashed through Xavier’s eyes before he nodded, signaling for you to continue.
“And i was wondering if we could go to your place, how’s that?” you ask, quickly batting your eyelashes at him before your gaze lingers somewhere else. Well, out of instinct, of course, you were practically gawking at his whole figure before he cleared his throat and pulled out his phone, probably checking the time.
“You can come over once work is finished, and then leave before nine, you think we could do that?” Xavier asks, his eyes darting from his blank screen on his phone to your eyes, you swallow the random lump that formed in your throat and nod.
Xavier sent you his address and you went back to your desk.
As the day progressed, before you knew it, work was over. It was already an hour past five and you still had a ten minute walk to Xavier's place, and each step you took out of the building slowed down by the second, you don't even know what you were nervous for. Just hours ago you were acting like a bitch when you found out he was your partner, but now? you were freaked out.
You pushed your anxious thoughts aside and headed over to his place.
Eventually, you made it to Xavier's place. It was pretty nice. A decent building just enough to fit at least four people in it. Your footsteps echoed on the cemented tiles, leading to his front porch. When you reached the door, you brought your finger to the doorbell.
And before the doorbell could fully ring, Xavier had already opened the door for you, his tired eyes gawked at you before he led you in. And the inside definitely looked better than expected. Xavier leads you to his work room and asks you to place your things wherever.
His place was more organized than you expected, he had two bookshelves stacked with books on it and his desk was clean, a stack of papers rested on the corner while his monitor was in the middle. You admired the rest of his room and Xavier cleared his throat, signaling for you to sit at the table.
“Sorry.”
“Don't worry about it,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of tenderness and something…more?
“We don't have much time, why don't we get started?” he suggested. You nod and bring out your papers for the project.
But half an hour through your work, you were dying. Not in a stressful way, but his house was way too hot. He basically had no AC in his room and you didn't even know how he was living right now?!
You grab a couple handfuls of paper, and fold them up, soon bringing them to your face and fan them in a quick movement, seeking for some coldness, but it was barely working. Xavier noticed your antics and raised an eyebrow, “hot?”
“Mhm.”
“I have a shirt if you want to borrow, that blouse definitely won't get you through the next couple hours.”
You ponder for a moment, a new shirt would be nice, so why the hell not? You agree and he nods, lifting himself off the ground, a small groan escaping his lips before he fully gets up. Xavier heads out of his room and comes back minutes later with a stack of a couple of his t-shirts.
He scatters them along the table you two were sitting at and told you to try any. You grab the first decent one that caught your eye and head over to the bathroom. And your worst nightmare happened.
Your shirt wouldn't unbutton.
This was literally a new shirt you bought and you already couldn't take it off!? There’s no way in hell you were going to try to rip it now, so, out of instinct, you ask Xavier to help you. Only for the buttons, only for the buttons…
“Hey, Xavier.” you call out to him, a hum is heard from the other side of the door and you sigh before asking him for help, “this is kind of embarrassing, c’mere.”
Footsteps echoed closer to the bathroom door and you could feel Xaviers presence through the other side. You rest your hand on the lock of the door before you flick it until it clicks, indicating that the door was unlocked.
Xavier lightly opens the door and his eyes look down at your figure before he asks what's wrong. An exasperated sigh escaped your lips and you turned around, moving your hair to the side to show your buttons that wouldn't unbutton to him.
A cold chuckle escaped his lips, “so you can’t unbutton your shirt, is what you’re saying?” He said in a mocking tone, a hint of generosity lingering through it. You let out a quick nod and Xavier’s cold, bristle fingers were already gliding against your neck.
His fingers glide through every button in a smooth motion, it was like you were watching someone pluck out strawberry seeds without making a mess. Xavier was already almost on the last button, his hot breath coxed your warm skin as he breathed heavily above you.
Your breath hitches when you feel Xavier’s finger graze your exposed skin. His two fingertips rested along your back before he pulled away, letting your shirt drape to your sides.
This was probably the first time you've seen your co-worker in heat, he tried to hide it so badly, but was failing miserably. Xavier was practically panting like a dog in heat, like a man who's never seen or touched a woman's bare skin.
“Shirt, where's the shirt?” Xavier breathed, his eyes darting on everywhere but your exposed skin. You turn your head and eye down at his hands.
“In your hand, c’mon, you could wait at the table as I put this on.” you say, grabbing the shirt from Xavier’s hands lifting the seamless fabric above your head before it slid down your body. When you brushed your hair aside Xavier was already gone.
You head out the bathroom and sit down at the table, Xavier glances at you before starting his work again. But each minute he was getting restless, and it was obvious he couldn't control himself.
“Hey.” Xavier said, his voice was like ten octaves lower and you glanced up from your paper, raising an eyebrow at him.
“My daughter’s gonna be home in a bit and..”
You didn't even listen to the rest of what he had to say because your mind stopped working when he said the word ‘daughter’. No wonder he seemed so overworked and stressed out during work… but the way he reacted touching your skin, made you wonder, does he even have a wife?
“Want to do it?”
Huh, do what?
“Yeah, sure.”
-
Stupidity got to you, you thought this was about the project and not something completely different, but it wasn't like you were complaining–kind of.
Xavier was just mere inches away from you. The second you said yes, he dropped everything he had and stepped closer and closer to you. He leaned in, his face was inches away from you, his hot breath on your skin, again.
“Xavier, do you have a wife?”
“Nope.”
That was all Xavier said before he crashed his lips onto yours, his rough skin meddling with yours was an experience you definitely wouldn't mind to experience again. The way his lips moulded yours in a perfect manner, it just felt amazing.
He slid his tongue against your slightly parted lips, seeking for entrance which you of course give him. You wrap a hand around his neck as you pull him closer, savouring more of him. A low moan escapes his lips, which sends vibrations to sprawl through your body.
A few moments passed, Xavier got to taste almost every inch of you, and he needed more. Its been a while since he fucked or kissed someone and he was practically over the moon. His arms snaked around your waist and he slid his fingers under your–his t-shirt, gliding his fingers through your cold skin.
Your shirt hiked up your body and revealed your bare skin for Xavier. A low whistle escaped his lips and he proceeded to remove the rest of your clothes off of you. Xavier stared down at you with lust and love filling his eyes.
He wrapped his fingers around your thighs and placed them around his hips, bucking himself closer to you. The rough fabric of his pants made contact with your bare pussy and a whine escaped your lips as you rocked yourself against him.
Xavier removed his clothes and pressed his bare body against yours, both of your skins ignited with each other and you felt your body burn up. Xavier pressed his finger against your soaking cunt, his digits stretching you out like his fingers were made for your pussy.
“Hah..Xav…” you whimper, rocking your hips against his fingers.
“What is it? Should I go quicker?” he asked, pushing his fingers deeper inside you, stroking you in a rhythmic movement. You nod and he listens to you, quickening his fingers inside you and as he watches you squirm beneath him.
“How’s this? Hm?”
“P-perfect!” you groan, holding onto the edges of the table next to you. Xavier nods and pulls his fingers out, staring at the white mixture coated around his fingers. Lifted your hips higher, at a perfect angle for him, and pressed his soaking tip against your stretched out cunt.
A low moan left Xavier’s lips when he slipped his cock inside you. The tip was barely inside and you felt like he shoved his full length in you. Xavier was stretching you out, inch by inch, the feeling of his warm cock twitching between your tight walls felt like you were in heaven.
His thrusts were slow, and smooth paced, he kept rocking himself back and forth, back and forth, only pushing a few inches inside you, not doing more, at least not yet. Xavier grabbed onto your hips as his thrusts started to quicken, and fuck…It felt too good
“Fuck…” he asked, pushing himself deeper inside you. You felt like your pussy was going to rip apart any second now, his large length was suffocating you and your inner thighs started to hurt, bad.
But Xavier continued his slow pace on you, just pushing more and more inside you each second. Your moans filled the room and you rolled your eyes back as you tried to blink away your desire creeping through your body.
“S’ been a while since I had thisss” the last word rolled off in a whimper and Xavier pressed himself against you, he was practically balls deep inside you and you could feel the light pressure of his faded happy trail graze your skin.
“Xavier! ‘M gonna cu–nmgh”
“Yeah?”
You nod repeatedly and couldn't hold it in anymore, a spike of pleasure washes through your body when you came. The white mixture coated Xavier’s cock as he pulled away. You breathe heavily, catching your breath from the intense sex you just had, with your fucking coworker.
Just when you thought you were done you felt his same warm, creamy tip make contact with your entrance and he thrust himself inside you, again. This time, his pace was like a wild animal, he had no rhythm on how he was fucking you, he just needed to cum, and thrusting himself aggressively was working.
Xavier grabbed onto your chin and stared into your eyes, he leaned in closer, capturing your lips in a needy kiss before pulling his face away and closing his eyes shut. You were too much in a daze to even process what was going on, you felt like you were going to pass out any second.
Xavier held onto you with a tight grip before he let out a sigh of relief, that's when you realized he came.
Right. inside. You.
“Xav?” you mumble, blinking your half-lidded, watery eyes at him. Through your blurred vision you could see a hint of panic and something else fill his eyes. You blink several times, letting the water seep out of your eyes before fixing your vision to his face.
Xavier nods, slowly pulling himself out of you, a wince escaped your lips when he popped his tip out of your cunt and he sighed, plopping himself on top of you as he caught his breath.
“My…Daughter…”
“Huh?”
“Daughter’s home.”
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a/n. sorry if its a little sloppy
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oscinhaslandito · 5 months ago
Text
BALLET, BETRAYAL AND A HOSE
disclaimer: this is for pure entertainment please do not send hate. all hate messages are and will be left unacknowledged.
pairing: oscar piastri x norris!reader
word count: 3.8k
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Lando and Oscar leaned against the wall outside her classroom in the ballet studio, waiting for Y/N to finish her class. Lando was scrolling through his phone while Oscar stood with his arms crossed, only half-listening to whatever nonsense his best friend was muttering about.
The classroom door opened, and a group of girls in tights and leotards exited, chatting amongst themselves. Oscar barely glanced up—until the last girl walked out.
Y/N, flushed from practice, hair still in a neat bun, leotard hugging her figure way too well, ways Oscar had never even considered before.
He freezes. Brain malfunctions. Thoughts he should not be having about his best friend’s little sister infiltrated his mind at lightning speed. Unholy thoughts, unholy thoughts, unholy thoughts— Nope, stop that, that’s your best friend’s little sister, act normal, mate.
He blinked rapidly, forcing himself back to reality just in time for Y/N to shoot an annoyed glare at Lando.
"Why are you inside? I told you to wait outside."
Lando shrugged, looking completely unbothered. "It's been fifteen minutes. Thought you fell and broke your leg or something."
Y/N rolled her eyes. "Give me five more minutes. I need to shower and change. Then we can leave."
Oscar, still trying to process, nodded too quickly. "Yeah, yeah! Take your time! No rush at all!"
Lando shot him a look. "Why are you being weird?"
"I—I am not weird," Oscar said, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. "Totally normal. Super normal. Completely—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Y/N’s ballet instructor exited the classroom.
She was gorgeous. Elegance personified. Every step she took was fluid, like she was floating. She’s got the grace of a goddess. Her hips swayed with effortless grace, her posture straight, and her sharp features gave her an intimidating yet magnetic presence. She walked past them, completely unaware of the chaos she was about to cause.
And then.
Lando wolf-whistles.
The second it leaves his mouth, Y/N’s soul leaves her body. She stares at him, absolutely mortified.
Oscar nearly choked on air, eyes widening in disbelief.
And Lando? The menace? He just grinned.
Not even ashamed. Just shrugs, and mutters, "What? She’s fine as hell."
Lando fully commits to flirting—flashes his most charming grin, smooths out his hoodie like he’s in a tux, and leans against the nearest wall like he’s James Bond.
"So… do you give private lessons? Asking for a friend."
Y/N dies on the spot. Oscar is wheezing, but also still trying to act normal after his own 'crisis'.
And then the teacher? She just chuckles, totally unbothered, and WINKS at Lando before saying, "You aren’t the first guy." Then, with the most graceful sway of her hips, she struts away like a queen.
Lando? Completely entranced. His brain is off. His eyes are GLUED to her until she starts to disappear in the distance. "I think I’m in love."
Y/N groaned, grabbing him by the ear and dragging him away. "I am so sorry, Miss Lillian. Please ignore him. He is not house-trained." While, the woman in return just laughs???
Oscar is just standing there, still recovering from seeing Y/N in a leotard, and now he has to process this madness too. What the actual fuck is happening today? He needed help.
As they walked outside, Y/N was still dragging Lando by the ear, furious while he laughed like an idiot.
"I swear to GOD, if you ever embarrass me like that again, I will revoke your brother privileges. You will no longer be my sibling. You will be just ‘some guy I know’!"
Lando, still rubbing his ear, just grinned. "Worth it."
Meanwhile, Oscar was still awkwardly quiet—which Y/N finally noticed. She frowned. "What’s wrong with you?"
Oscar, still desperately trying not to think about her in a leotard, blurted out, "Nothing! I mean—uh—great weather today, huh? Love the sky. Big fan of clouds."
Just as she was about to interrogate him further, Lando sighed dreamily. "Do you think Miss Lillian likes younger guys?"
Y/N groaned. "Please shut up."
Lando, completely ignoring her: "Like, I’m not saying she wants me, but I am saying I could make her want me, you know?"
Oscar lost it. "YOU WERE STARING AT HER LIKE A LOST PUPPY."
Just as Y/N thinks the nightmare is over, they turn the corner and—BOOM—Miss Lillian is also leaving the building at the same time. She notices them and gives Lando a knowing smile.
Lando panics for one second but then fully commits to the bit. "Hey, fancy seeing you here. Wanna grab a drink?"
Miss Lillian just chuckles, winks, and walks away again, hips swaying. Lando? Mesmerized.
Y/N? Absolutely done with this entire day.
Lando’s driving, humming to himself, and then suddenly notices Oscar glancing at Y/N way too much. He narrows his eyes at first, watching Oscar physically struggle not to look. Then it clicks—and Lando SLAMS the brakes.
Y/N yelps, "WHAT THE HELL?!" while Oscar nearly flies forward. Lando turns in his seat, slowly, dramatically narrows his eyes and gives his best mate the filthiest glare known to mankind like he just witnessed a crime.
"Mate. I consider you one of my best mates. And you… you just stab me in the back like this? IN FRONT OF ME? AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH?"
Oscar is malfunctioning. "I don’t—I wasn’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!"
Y/N is clueless. "What is happening right now?"
Lando doesn’t even acknowledge her. He’s still burning a hole into Oscar’s soul. "You were staring like she’s a Michelin-star meal, mate. DO NOT DENY IT."
Oscar is fighting for his life. "I WASN’T—"
Lando gasps, clutching his chest. "YOU WERE. YOU ABSOLUTELY WERE."
Y/N is just sitting there, confused as hell.
Y/N, exasperated, "Lando, can we go home??"
Lando, ignoring her, "Oh, we’re going home. But Oscar is not sitting next to you."
Oscar is BANISHED to the front seat while Lando makes Y/N sit in the back, like that somehow prevents romance.
But it gets worse.
Oscar is already suffering, but Lando DOES NOT LET IT GO.
The whole ride home, Lando keeps throwing shots at Oscar.
"So, Oscar, what’s your type? Ballet dancers, perhaps?"
"You ever think about dating someone’s younger sister before?"
"OH WAIT, YOU ALREADY DO, DON’T YOU?"
Oscar wants to die.
And then, when they finally get home, Lando makes it his life mission to ensure Oscar and Y/N DO NOT get a single moment alone.
He follows them around. If Oscar tries to speak to Y/N, Lando INTERRUPTS. If Oscar so much as looks in her direction, Lando gives him a death stare. If Y/N tries to talk to Oscar, Lando physically stands between them.
Later that night, Lando forces Oscar to sleep on an air mattress on the floor of his room, because "We’re not sharing a bed, that’s weird, mate."
And THEN, before they all go to bed, Lando grabs Oscar by the collar and whispers:
"If I even THINK you’re looking at my sister again, I will personally make sure you never drive a car again. Sleep well, mate."
Oscar does not, in fact, sleep well.
Lando is officially in full-overprotective mode, and Oscar is now public enemy #1 in his eyes.
Lando is finally asleep, snoring like a damn freight train. Oscar is wide awake on the air mattress, traumatized from the day’s events. And then—Y/N sneaks in.Like a ninja. Silent. Stealthy. Dangerous. She tiptoes across the room, carefully dodging Lando’s discarded hoodie (gross). Oscar notices way too late. He turns his head and BAM—Y/N IS CRAWLING INTO HIS AIR MATTRESS.
Oscar's in deep shock, "What the—Y/N?!"
Y/N, smirks, feigning innocence, "Shhh. You’ll wake Lando up."
Oscar, panicked whispers "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Y/N just grins, fully curling herself against his side, spoons him like an absolute MENACE. Oscar.exe has stopped working. His brain is fighting for its life. His crush—Lando’s little sister—is just… THERE. ALL CUDDLED UP. CASUALLY. LIKE IT’S NORMAL. Oscar, internally screaming, Be a gentleman. Be a gentleman. BE A GENTLEMAN.
Y/N, cheekily whispers "Can’t sleep. Thought I’d try a different spot."
Oscar, whisper yells at her, "YOUR BROTHER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE."
Y/N casually says, "Yeah, but he sleeps like a rock."
Oscar groans, "This is a terrible idea."
Y/N smirks, "So you want me to leave?"
Oscar doesn’t answer. Because no, actually, he does not want her to leave. His heart is slamming against his ribs.
Y/N smirks, "That’s what I thought."
She just settles in, fully comfortable, head on his chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Oscar is fighting for his life. His arms are just hovering midair like WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE??? And then? Y/N grabs his hand and puts it around her waist. Oscar dies. Right there. On the spot. He just stares at the ceiling, his soul leaving his body. Meanwhile, Lando snores in the background, completely unaware that his best mate is currently living his worst (best??) nightmare.
Oscar is suffering.
Y/N is fully comfortable, head on his chest, arms wrapped around him, not a care in the world. Meanwhile, Oscar is staring at the ceiling like a man facing the gates of hell. He. Cannot. Move. His entire body is rigid, arms awkwardly hovering in the air like a glitching video game character. If he breathes too hard, will Lando wake up? If he shifts even an inch, will Y/N notice? IF HE LOOKS DOWN, WILL HE SELF-DESTRUCT?? He is trapped. A hostage. A prisoner.
Y/N notices.
She lifts her head slightly, eyes glinting in the dark, "Why are you so stiff?"
Oscar is having an internal crisis. "I—uh—I don’t know what you mean."
Y/N wiggles closer.
Oscar stops breathing. Lando SNORES. Pure. Nightmare. Fuel.
Y/N, all cheeky, "Oh my God. You’re nervous."
Oscar wants to disappear. "I AM NOT." He absolutely is.
Y/N grins against his chest, "You totally are. Your heart is beating so fast."
Oscar, fully malfunctioning, "That's just because I had too much caffeine"
Y/N raises a brow playfully, "At 11 PM?"
"YES."
At this point, Oscar is just praying Lando doesn’t wake up.
But oh, it gets worse.
Y/N? She’s having the time of her life. She traces small circles on his chest, just to see what happens. Oscar freaking glitches. Whole body JOLTS.
Y/N is now grinning like a gremlin. "Ohhh, you are STRUGGLING."
Oscar, on the verge of dying, "Y/N. PLEASE."
Y/N smirks, "Please what?"
Oscar groans, in a 'crisis', "Have mercy."
Y/N pretends to think for brief second, "Mmm... nah."
And THEN.
Lando shifts in his bed.
Oscar freezes completely. Y/N? She doesn’t even flinch. Lando just mumbles something about ‘papaya rules’ in his sleep before turning over. Oscar EXHALES so hard he nearly passes out.
Y/N, casually goes, "Relax. He’s not waking up."
Oscar physically cannot relax.
It starts small. He sighs. Internally accepts his fate. Then, he relaxes—just a little. Then a little more. And then…
HE PULLS Y/N FULLY ONTO HIS CHEST.
Y/N yelps softly, but then grins like an absolute menace. Oscar? His brain is fighting demons, but he commits. One arm wraps around her waist. The other rests lazily on her back. His hand strokes slow, lazy circles on her spine.
Y/N, all smug, "Oh. So now you’re comfortable?"
Oscar, voice all deep and raspy, "Go to sleep, menace."
And then… Y/N falls asleep.
Just fully PASSES OUT. Peaceful. Happy. Cozy. Doing something so brain itchy to Oscar's heart.
For the first time all night, he actually enjoys this.
UNTIL.
The sun rises. Lando wakes up groggy, rubbing his eyes.
He turns his head.
Sees something.
Leans in closer.
Squints.
Blinks.
Blinks again.
And then—
It hits.
Lando SCREAMS. "WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK."
Oscar jerks awake in full-blown panic. Y/N mumbles something about ‘five more minutes’ and nuzzles closer. OH, THIS IS WAR.
Lando launches forward, shoving Y/N off Oscar. She yelps, hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes.
HE JUMPS ON TOP OF OSCAR.
GRABS A PILLOW.
ATTEMPTS MURDER.
WHAM.
Oscar, disoriented, panicking, "WHAT THE HELL, MATE?!"
Lando, fuming, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘WHAT THE HELL’?! YOU’RE CUDDLING MY SISTER, YOU ABSOLUTE TRAITOR!!"
"YOU DIRTY, BACKSTABBING, DISLOYAL PIECE. OF. SHIT." WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.
Oscar is fighting for his life, arms flailing, legs kicking, whole air mattress bouncing. "GET OFF ME YOU PSYCHO—"
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" WHACK
"I DIDN’T EVEN MOVE ALL NIGHT—"
"DIDN’T MOVE?! YOU LET MY SISTER CUDDLE YOU, YOU BACKSTABBING SNAKE." WHACK WHACK WHACK
"IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE."
"OH, REALLY? BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE MY BABY SISTER WAS ALL OVER YOU."
Y/N, from the floor, "…It was mutual, actually."
"I’M GONNA KILL YOU BOTH." Lando yells, stll not getting off of Oscar.
"YOU BETRAYED ME. YOU BETRAYED OUR BROTHERHOOD." "I LET YOU INTO MY HOME." "I SHARED MY FOOD WITH YOU." "AND YOU DO THIS TO ME?"
Oscar is gasping for air.
It’s a full WWE match.
Meanwhile, Y/N is just watching from the floor, completely unfazed. She stretches. Yawns. Checks her nails.
She slowly stands up, dusts herself off. Then, casually walks to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. She fills a glass with cold water, casually walks back.
And then—
SHE DUMPS THE ENTIRE GLASS ON LANDO’S HEAD.
Lando FREEZES. Oscar GASPS for air like a drowning man. The pillow falls.
And Y/N, completely deadpan, "Okay. That’s enough murder for today."
Lando BLINKS. Dripping wet. Absolutely stunned. Oscar wheezes. Y/N sips the last few drops from the glass.
Then, as if nothing just happened, she pats Lando’s head like a child.
“There. Now go take a shower and cool off before you have a stroke.”
Lando? Hair dripping. Hoodie sticking to his skin. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Visibly contemplating whether he should actually commit murder. Oscar? Still in shock. Barely survived an attempted homicide. Heart still racing because Y/N was ON HIS CHEST last night. But now his biggest concern is whether he’ll make it out of this house alive. Y/N? Already grabbing her phone, scrolling through Instagram like this was just another Tuesday.
Unbothered. Hydrated. Thriving.
AND THEN—
Lando, finally wiping water off his face, turns to Y/N with pure betrayal. “You were supposed to be on MY side.”
And Y/N, sipping from her now-empty glass like the menace she is, "I am on your side. I just don’t want you to go to jail."
Oscar, whispers weakly "Thank you."
AT BREAKFAST TABLE.
Y/N's just spreading Nutella on her toast, living her best life.
Oscar looks visibly like he's regretting every decision in his life, contemplating booking a one-way flight back to Melbourne.
Lando is still fuming, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at Oscar like he’s planning the next murder attempt. He's still ranting.
"I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU. YOU’RE A TRAITOR. A WEASEL. A FILTHY—" "AND DON’T THINK I WON’T REPLACE YOUR TOOTHPASTE WITH GLUE, PIASTRI." "I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL."
Oscar, exhausted:, "Mate, I think you already have."
Lando slams his fork down. Oscar flinches. Visibly bracing for another attack. But then—
Y/N STRIKES.
In the middle of Lando’s rant, she grabs Oscar by the collar, yanks him forward and crashes her lips against his.
OSCAR? Gone. MIND? Blank. SOUL? Exited his body. SYSTEM? Full Malfunction.
Lando? Oh he's silent as a graveyard, staring at them, the fork still mid air. Not a single sound. Just. Pure. Utter. Horror.
Y/N pulls away, smug as hell, looking Lando straight in the eye, "This is happening. Me and him. Whether you like it or not."
Oscar? Still frozen. Mouth slightly open. No thoughts. Just static noise.
Lando? Blinking. Processing. Spiraling. Opens his mouth—closes it—opens it again. Grips his glass of juice so hard it nearly explodes.
"I’M GONNA THROW UP."
Lando dramatically pushes his chair back, stomps out of the kitchen like a scorned Victorian widow, muttering something about betrayal, disownment, and needing therapy.
Meanwhile, Y/N? Picks up her toast like nothing happened. Oscar? Still buffering.
Y/N, all casual, "Want some Nutella, babe?"
Oscar's mouth still open, can’t even compute.
She picks up her toast, takes the smallest, most casual bite, and then in the most nonchalant, sweet-as-sugar voice, "Well, now that he’s gone…" smirk "…we can properly make out."
OSCAR.EXE HAS COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN.
His head whips toward her so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, jaw dropping, words nowhere to be found. A full-body malfunction.
"Wha-? Huh? You can't just say things like that."
Y/N, picks up her glass of juice, sipping innocently, "Why not? Scared, Piastri?"
Oscar's completely struggling to form a coherent sentence.
"I—you—wha—?" His face is redder than a Ferrari, hands gripping the table like he’s on a rollercoaster.
And then—THE KILL SHOT.
Y/N leans in, placing a hand on his knee, a slow smirk on her lips, her eyes playful, her voice, the epitome of chaos, "Oh, c'mon, Lando was the only thing holding you back."
OSCAR HAS OFFICIALLY DIED.
Head in hands. Breathing? NONEXISTENT.
AND THEN—
Lando storms back in, clearly remembering he left his phone behind.
He pauses at the scene in front of his eyes. He blinks. Y/N was practically draped over Oscar who looked like he’s having a full spiritual crisis, while Y/N just Looked as smug as a cat that just knocked over a glass.
Lando’s left eye twitches.
"I—FOR FUCK'S SAKE, CAN I NOT LEAVE YOU TWO ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES???"
Y/N bites into her toast, still grinning, "Nope."
Lando? DISGUSTED. TRAUMATIZED. ON THE VERGE OF COLLAPSE.
He grabs his phone, shoots them one last glare, and storms out.
The door slams.
Y/N, watching the door like a true menace: "…Think he’s gone for good this time?"
Oscar is still recovering from the first attack, face still red, he still hasn’t blinked, looking like he just got hit by a truck.
Y/N grinning like the absolute devil she is, grabs Oscar by the collar again and pulls him in. This time, no teasing, no games, straight up full-on, deep, mind-numbing make-out session.
Oscar? Oh, the man is gone. His hands find her waist. Brain? No longer functional. Thinking? Never heard of it. He’s officially entered the 'Fuck it we ball' phase.
Just when things are getting properly heated—
DOOR FLIES OPEN.
Lando stands there, hose in hand. A BACKYARD GARDEN HOSE.
Oscar and Y/N both freeze mid-makeout turn their heads in slow motion, realizing what’s happening a second too late.
AND THEN IT HITS. FULL BLAST. ICE COLD WATER.
Oscar yells.
Y/N screams.
Lando? MANIACAL.FULL VILLAIN ARC.
"YEAH, NAH, THIS IS MUCH BETTER. I’M GOOD NOW." Lando says in a breath of relief, literally waterboarding them.
They're both drenched to the bone. The kitchen was a literal flood zone. Y/N looked like a drowned cat, Oscar was fully contemplating his life choices. Lando, on the other hand looked the definition of job well done.
Oscar was already planning murder, while Y/N was on the verge of actual murder.
Lando, casually turns off the hose, tossing it over his shoulder, "Right. Who’s hungry?"
Y/N is fuming, pushing her wet hair back, "You’re DEAD, Lando. Done. Finished. Over."
Lando, grins, arms crossed like an evil genius, "Oh, am I? Cause you two looked pretty comfortable before I SAVED YOU FROM YOURSELVES."
Oscar, shaking out his wet curls, still processing, "This—this is assault."
Lando all unbothered goes, "No, mate. This is JUSTICE."
BUT THEN—
Y/N LUNGES.
She slips on the wet floor, grabs onto Oscar to stabilize, taking the poor guy down with her as they both crash to the floor in a heap.
Lando was bent over, laughing, "OH MY GOD, THAT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN I EXPECTED." The guy was legit struggling to breathe.
Oscar, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, "…This is my villain origin story."
Y/N, lying on top of him, glaring at Lando, "You have SECONDS to live, Norris."
Lando was still wheezing, holding up his hands, "Okay, okay, truce! I’ll make it up to you. I'll buy you McDonald’s."
Y/N, narrowing her eyes, "I want nuggets, a big mac, and a McFlurry."
Oscar, still recovering, "And I want a new best friend."
"Yeah, well, can’t help you there, mate."
IN THE CAR.
Lando's driving like nothing ever happened. Y/N, still slightly dripping, but happily eating her nuggets while Oscar was staring out the window like he just came back from war.
Lando, sipping his Coke, grinning, "So… was it worth it?"
Oscar turns his head slowly, "I’m sleeping with one eye open tonight."
Y/N, still chewing, completely deadpans, "No, you’re sleeping with me tonight."
OSCAR.EXE HAS CRASHED AGAIN.
The rest of the day is again filled with lots and lots of banter, finally night dawns.
Oscar is half dead, thinking the madness is finally over. He yawns, heading toward Lando's room, "Right. Goodnight. I’m sleeping forever."
Y/N grins like she’s got a plan, "Yeah, about that…"
Oscar, gives her a suspicious look, "…what?"
Y/N, casually linking her arm through his, "I thought we’d cuddle."
Lando? FROM ACROSS THE ROOM?? HE HEARS IT.
"OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY."
Lando full-on sprints after them. Oscar panics while, Y/N cackles as she drags Oscar toward the bedroom.
Lando, grabbing Oscar’s hoodie to stop him, "TRAITOR. ABSOLUTE TRAITOR."
Oscar, helplessly dragged by Y/N, looking at Lando in despair, "I’m not even doing anything."
Y/N dives onto the bed, pulling Oscar with her. Lando launches himself like a flying squirrel, wrestling Oscar away. Y/N? Clinging onto Oscar for dear life. Oscar? GETTING TORN APART.
THEN. A MOMENT OF CHAOS.
Lando accidentally pulls too hard— Oscar accidentally pulls back— Y/N, stuck in the middle, gets yeeted off the bed.
THE ROOM GOES SILENT.
Y/N was now lying on the floor, groaning. Oscar was horrified. Lando. Oh. He messed up.
Y/N, slowly sitting up, cracking her knuckles, "I’m going to end you, Lando."
LANDO JUMPS UP, RUNS FOR HIS LIFE. "GOODNIGHT BYEEEE."
CUT TO: THE NEXT MORNING.
Lando wakes up to something terrifying.
A polaroid taped to his forehead, a picture of Y/N and Oscar, snuggled up in bed, Oscar’s arm wrapped around Y/N, both looking all cozy.
Lando looked MURDEROUS.
"NOOOOOOOOOO."
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cailinsblog · 8 months ago
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Lando’s Little Protector | Lando Norris
Lando Norris x reader
Masterlist
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The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of your shared bedroom, casting a warm glow on the cozy space. You stirred beneath the covers, blinking slowly as the sound of soft footsteps approached. Before you could even sit up, the familiar face of Lando Norris appeared beside the bed, holding a tray with breakfast.
“Good morning, love,” Lando said softly, his signature smile lighting up his face. He carefully set the tray on the bedside table, revealing a plate of toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of tea. “I brought you breakfast in bed.”
You chuckled, sitting up against the headboard. “Lando, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Of course I did,” he said, placing a pillow behind your back for extra support. “You’re carrying our baby now. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Lando, I’m only two months pregnant. I’m not helpless.”
He huffed, crossing his arms in mock seriousness. “Doesn’t matter. You’re growing a tiny human, Y/N. That’s a big deal. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. Lando had always been protective, but ever since you told him you were expecting, he’d taken it to a whole new level. He insisted on doing everything for you—cooking, cleaning, even carrying the groceries, despite your protests that you were perfectly capable.
As you ate your breakfast, Lando sat beside you, watching you closely. “How are you feeling today? Any nausea? Headaches?”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “No, I’m fine, Lando. You don’t have to check on me every five minutes.”
“I’m just making sure,” he said, his tone serious. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby.”
After breakfast, you got out of bed and stretched, ready to start the day. But as soon as you reached for the laundry basket, Lando appeared out of nowhere, gently taking it from your hands.
“Uh-uh, no way,” he said, carrying the basket out of the room. “I’ll do the laundry.”
“Lando, I can handle—”
“Nope,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You sit down and relax.”
You followed him to the living room, where he had set up a cozy spot on the couch with blankets and pillows. He guided you to sit down, then handed you the TV remote and a glass of water.
“There,” he said, satisfied. “Now, you stay here and watch something. I’ll handle everything else.”
You sighed, but a warm feeling spread through your chest. His protectiveness was endearing, even if it was a bit over the top. As you settled into the couch, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for how much he cared.
---
Later that afternoon, you decided to test just how protective Lando could be. While he was in the kitchen, you stood up and started tidying up the coffee table. As soon as Lando noticed, he rushed over, his eyes wide with concern.
“Y/N! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, gently taking the stack of magazines from your hands.
“I’m just cleaning up a bit,” you said innocently.
“No way,” he said, placing the magazines back on the table. “I’ll take care of that. You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Lando, I’m not made of glass,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh.
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also determined. “I know, but I don’t want to take any chances. You mean everything to me, Y/N. I just want to keep you safe.”
Your heart melted at his words. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “I know, Lando. And I love you for it. But you don’t have to do everything on your own. We’re in this together.”
He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. “I just want to make sure you and the baby are okay.”
“And we are,” you reassured him. “But if I need help, I promise I’ll ask. Deal?”
He sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Deal. But I’m still going to keep an eye on you.”
You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
---
As the weeks went on, Lando continued to hover, but he also started to relax a bit. He still insisted on doing most of the household chores, but he allowed you to join him for walks and even let you help with small tasks, like folding laundry.
One evening, as you sat on the couch together, Lando placed a hand on your still-flat stomach, his eyes filled with wonder.
“I can’t believe there’s a little person in there,” he said softly.
“Me neither,” you said, resting your hand on top of his. “But I’m so excited to meet them.”
“Me too,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your stomach. “And I’m going to be the best dad ever. Just wait and see.”
You smiled, your heart full of love. “I already know you will be, Lando.”
As the months ahead stretched before you, you knew that with Lando by your side, everything was going to be just fine. His protectiveness might drive you a little crazy at times, but it was also a reminder of how deeply he loved you and your growing family. And that was more than enough.
Requesting and rebloging helps me a lot guys 💕
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago
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inspections
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words: 1k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, daily c*nt inspections 😭, fingering, mentions of p in v sex, edging, i think rafe calls reader kiddo once, reader is described briefly as small chested, mentions of past punishments/spankings/tit slapping
“come on, baby.” rafe taps your thigh. “it's time.”
“im so tired, just let me sleep for five more minutes.” you whine, snuggling your head deeper into the pillow.
“are you being bratty?” rafes words have your eyes snapping open.
“no, daddy, of course not.” you giggle. you both know you were just being a bit naughty by refusing to wake up, but you don't want to face any punishment, sitting up to give rafe a good morning kiss.
“mhm, that's what i thought.” he sighs. “i have to go into work today.”
“what?” you whine. “you can't work from home?”
“nope, got in person meetings today. sorry baby girl.” rafe hates leaving you as much as you hate him having to go anywhere without you.
“okay, gonna miss you so much.” you give rafe another kiss, now noticing that he's already ready and dressed.
“ive got enough time for inspections. open up.” rafe taps your thigh again.
“mkay.” you nod, laying your head back on the pillow, spreading your legs open.
“no wet spot on your panties, wow.” rafe nods, hands moving to rub over your inner thighs.
you smile, proud of yourself for keeping your panties clean overnight, always struggling with rafe pressed up against you.
rafe hooks his finger under the center of your underwear, pulling it to the side to reveal your cunt.
“gosh, so pretty.” rafe smiles down. “my favorite pussy in the world.”
“thank you daddy.” you blush, feeling your cheeks heat up pink.
“makes me not wanna leave you, kiddo.” rafe sighs, knowing he certainly doesn't have time to fuck you, not in the way he wants to.
“will you be home for lunch?” you ask, eyes fluttering closed as rafe swipes his fingers through your folds absentmindedly.
“yeah.” rafe nods. “will bring you home some candy.” he can't help himself but bring his fingertips to his mouth, tasting your wetness with a low moan.
“thank you daddy.” you manage to speak out, voice already wobbly from his touches.
“gonna stick a finger inside, okay? make sure you're still nice and tight for me.” the inspections became mandatory after rafe found out you were touching yourself overnight, not even always consciously, rutting against his thigh while you both slept, wet dreams of your daddy running through your head.
“mkay.” you nod, letting out a breath to relax your body as rafe uses one hand to separate your folds, holding your cunt open as your hole flutters in anticipation.
rafe circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it inside your hole. you always try your best to stay quiet during inspections as rafe likes, but you can't help but squeal out.
rafe just laughs at how pathetic your noises are, beginning to thrust his finger in and out slowly, feeling the way you constrict around him.
“nice and tight, so good baby.” rafe smiles down at you. “you've been such a good girl lately, i can't even remember the last time i had to punish you!”
“two weeks ago.” you pout, remembering it well. “ten spankings because i flashed you while you were in a meeting.”
“that's right.” rafe shakes his head. “you got some tit slaps too, didn't you baby?” rafe looks up your body. there's not much tits there to slap, and rafe always prefers to bend you over his knee and punish your ass instead.
“mhm, but i liked it so you stopped.” you giggle, remembering how you moaned when rafes palm hit your nipples.
“my dirty girl.” rafe shakes his head, moving his thumb to your clit, keeping your cunt pulled apart with his other hand so he can see all of you. sure, it's part of his daily morning inspections to check your cunt, but he usually just pushes a finger in and claims it's good.
“daddy?” you whimper out, a rush of wetness flooding your pussy.
“what is it baby? don't you want me to touch your little clit since im gonna be gone for work for hours.”
“yeah.” you whine, nodding your head as his finger thrusting inside of you moves faster, resisting the urge to add a second, loving how it's just his cock that stretches you open. 
“good girl. you deserve a kiss.” rafe says, and you pucker your lips, waiting for him to bend over your body, but rafe drops down lower, pressing a kiss directly over your clit.
“daddy!” you squeal, back arching off the bed. despite always touching your pussy, rafe rarely gives you head, preferring to get right to fucking you.
rafe moves his thumb to help keep you spread open, stretching the skin around your cunt as his tongue flicks out, rubbing over your clit, now tasting your wetness as well as hearing it with every push of his finger inside of you, a sick squelching sound filling the room.
“can i-can i touch your hair daddy?” you manage to ask, fingers twitching.
“no.” rafe smirks, his voice vibrating your clit as he barely pulls away to speak.
“o-okay.” you grip the bed sheets instead, wishing you could push rafes head further into your pussy, but you know better than to disobey an order.
“can feel you clenching ‘round my finger.” rafe laughs against your cunt.
“feels so good.” you mumble, used to waking up in the morning to rafe inspecting your pussy, but it's never this much as you moan, thighs twitching with the urge to close.
“too bad you're not gonna cum.” rafe sighs, pulling his mouth and finger suddenly out, sitting up.
“no!” you scream out. “no, daddy, please, ive been so good, let me cum, please!”
rafe sighs, leaning over your body to press a kiss to your lips. “sorry, princess, gotta go to work.”
rafe glances at the clock. truth is, he has plenty of time to make you cum, knowing you're only seconds away, but he likes the idea of keeping you wet and horny for him, ready to thrust his cock into the moment he gets back from work.
“and remember princess.” he taps your nose, making your eyes flutter before focusing on rafe. “if you touch yourself while im gone, there will be punishments.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @sil @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet
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snowysosturn · 14 days ago
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The Underdog - Chris Sturniolo
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Part 1 Part 2
Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Y/n
Summary: Chris is a rising star in the MLS - talented, charming, and known for being a player, both on and off the pitch. He’s never had a girlfriend, but always had a soft spot for Y/n, the girl who knew him before the fame but never took him seriously. Once their paths cross again, will history repeat itself or start to feel like potential?
It’s Thursday evening, and my apartment smells like takeout with a hint of unserious stress. A pile of open textbooks and empty pizza boxes are scattered across my bedroom floor, all of us pretending to study while slowly drifting into talk of playoffs. That’s what happens when you live in Houston and the Dynamo’s make the final, nothing else really matters for a few days. Not even our looming exams.
We’re all future biology teachers in theory, but tonight? We're just soccer fans, buzzing like the rest of the city.
“Anyone got a spare jersey?” Liv asks, digging through a drawer like one might magically appear.
“Yeah I’ve got one” Tasha says. “You can wear my orange home kit, it says Herrera on the back of it.”
“I’m just excited for the night out after if I’m honest” Liv grins, turning as she closes the drawer. “The city’s gonna be wild whether we win or lose.”
“Oh we’re gonna win!” I say without thinking, leaning back against my beds headboard. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”
“Oh okay Ms.Manifestation, lets hope you’re right.” Tasha smirks. “So, who do you think’s going to start?”
Liv gives me a look. A slow, smug kind of smirk that makes me want to throw a pillow at her before she even opens her mouth. I know where she’s going with this.
“I think Chris Sturniolo will be in the starting 11.” she says, way too casually.
I roll my eyes immediately. “Please stop.”
“What?” she grins, “It’s a valid take.”
“I swear, if you lot start this again-”
Maya, who’s only just moved in from Utah this semester is still catching up with everything, so she raises a brow. “Wait, what’s the deal with Chris Sturniolo?”
The girls all look at me, waiting for me to explain.
I sigh. “We knew each other a few years ago. We were in the same school year, he used to try it with me constantly. Like.. wouldn’t let it go. But I never gave in. Ever.”
Tasha sniggers. “Yeah keyword is tried. Girl was made of stone.”
I laugh, because it’s true. Chris was.. persistent, to say the least. Always smiling like he knew one day he’d get what he wanted.
But he’s a pro footballer now. One of Houston’s most talked about rising stars, considered a wonderkid. But to me? He’s still that same guy who never took no for an answer, and always thought he could change my mind.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if he’s actually starting Sunday.
“I actually don’t hear much about him anymore, like.. on a personal level” I say, almost more to myself than anyone else. “Soccer fans absolutely idolise him now, but it’s weird not seeing him pop up anywhere else.”
Maya tilts her head, as she looks up from her phone. “Does he have a girlfriend?.. I mean.. he is a goodlooking boy.”
The rest of us shake our heads in sync like it’s a reflex.
“Nope.”
“Never.”
“Not a real one anyway” Liv adds, stretching her legs over the edge of the bed. “Chris was one for hookups and hookups only.”
I shrug, grabbing my cup off the floor. “That’s why I never went for him. Even back then, he just seemed like one big player. Flashy smile, smooth talk, always surrounded by people, and never the same girl twice.”
“Sounds like half the team then” Maya mutters, making us laugh.
“But seriously..” I continue, “he was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were the only one in the room.. and then did the exact same thing with someone else five minutes later.”
Maya whistles. “Yikes.”
“Exactly, I’m not falling for that one.”
Still, part of me wonders if he’s changed. Fame does that to people, sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better. Or maybe he just got better at hiding it.
I shake the thought off. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t spoken to him in years, and after Sunday’s final, he’ll be off doing whatever pro soccer players do in the off season. Probably in Miami, probably surrounded by beautiful women.
But all in the same breath, curiosity gets the better of me.
While the others argue over who’s going to score first on Sunday, I quietly grab my phone and search Chris on Instagram.
It doesn’t take long, his account pops right up, verified tick and everything.
His page is exactly what I expect. Clean, posed, very.. athlete. Rows of football photos, in uniform, mid training, post match grins with a mix of gym selfies.
As much of a player as he was, I have to admit it, it’s nice seeing someone from here actually make it.
Houston raised. Houston playing.
It’s not often a local boy gets the opportunity to be the hometown hero.
I scroll a bit more. He’s gained a ton of followers, influencers, fitness pages, fans from all over the league. Probably girls from everywhere too, which is why I tell myself if I hit follow, it’ll go completely unnoticed.
So I do.
Just a little harmless follow.
Nothing more.
I zone back into the conversation, locking my phone and tossing it to the side like I hadn’t just deep dived into Chris Sturniolo’s highlight reel.
The girls are still chatting, this time full swing into pregame plans.
“I’m thinking we start at Liv’s place” Tasha says, already listing off who’s bringing what. “She’s closest to the stadium anyway.”
“I’ll have shots ready before we leave” Liv nods with full commitment.
“And where are we going after?” I ask, taking a swig of my water and trying to act like I hadn’t mentally wandered off for five minutes.
Maya lights up. “Oh actually! My cousin said if they win, the team’s hitting Fire.”
“Fire Fire?” I repeat, eyebrows raised.
She grins. “Yup. Fire Nightclub. The whole team’s planning to go with the cup and everything. Shots, DJ, bottle girls, the works.”
“Oh we’re definitely going then” Liv says, already pulling out her phone to make sure her outfit's still sitting in her cart.
“Imagine getting a pic with the cup” Maya laughs.
“Or with Chris Sturniolo” Liv teases, looking directly at me.
I roll my eyes hard enough to see my own brain. “Don’t start.”
But part of me knows.. if Houston wins and Chris ends up at Fire that night.. the chances of running into him just got very real.
Just as Livs finishing her smug little smirk, I hear it.
Ding.
I glance down at my phone, lighting up beside me on my bed.
I look down.
Chris Sturniolo followed you.
Then, ding again.
Two notifications in such a short time.
A message.
Chris Sturniolo: “What’s up Y/n”
There's no way he’s just text me.
a/n : before we start i dont know how the MLS truly works and calling it soccer is making me SICK
taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit @mattswrinkleton @asmine @sagesturns
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gumigirl · 1 month ago
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nobody gets me, you do— ft. yuuta okkotsu and mean-ish!reader. // pt.2
completing your first year at jujustu tech, you and your best friend, yuuta, were now second years. which meant you two would be training the new first years pretty soon. knowing gojo, he would just toss them to you guys whenever he had something better to attend to. not that you and yuuta had a problem with it, though. most missions were being truck-loaded onto the first years to 'toughen them up', so you both had more than enough free time (according to gojo..)
“that's all you can do? punch and kick?” you scoffed at the younger pink-haired boy infront of you, tilting your head doubtfully as if you didn't want to believe that was the best of his capabilities. itadori would scowl, opening his mouth; ready to retort before yuuta piped up.
“it's not nice to pick on the weak, y'know?” yuuta intervened, glancing away from the student he was training to shoot you that coy smirk of his. even with that opening, young fushiguro couldn't manage to land a hit on him; all his attacks being blocked with practiced ease.
“okay, but what kind of idiot picks on the strong?” you snorted with a roll of your eyes. “you're only acting all high and mighty because you get to train fushiguro.”
“yeah, 'cause i'm better than you, so gojo entrusted him to me.” yuuta boasted, his words followed by a boyish chuckle. the first— well, now second years were somewhat acquainted with fushiguro. most knew him as the boy gojo took in, others dared to refer to him as gojo's son.
“great, and i'm chopped liver, huh?” itadori grunted, no longer trying to strike you as he stood limply with his hands at his sides. almost like a pouting toddler.
“wha— great, you made him upset. what now?” yuuta huffed, his tone almost slightly panicked as he managed to knock megumi's 'weapon of choice' (a wooden pole) out of his grasp, leaving the boy defenseless.
“geez, yuu. don't start getting all anxious. he's a big kid, isn't he? it's not like we're babysitting them.” you mused sarcastically— until yuuta hit you with the best 'stern' look he could muster, then you would reluctantly sigh. looking over at the odd pink haired boy, you would pat his back as if he were a ticking time bomb. “there there, buddy. i didn't mean it i guess..”
immediately after your half-assed apology, yuuta's usual sweet grin would find its way back to his lips. while it wasn't the best apology in the books, he'd known you for long enough to figure that it was the best he would get out of you. however, itadori was less than pleased. “you're only apologizing because he told you to. you don't really mean it.”
“maybe, maybe not. got a problem with it, kid?” you remarked, quirking up a brow as your arms folded across your chest. it didn't take long for the first years to figure out you and yuuta were practically attached at the hip: eating lunch together, studying together, training together, the list went on. it was like a sacred unspoken rule of sorts. they didn't know exactly how long you two had known eachother, but it had to be pretty long if you got along this well, right?
“nope! not at all..” itadori assured with a slightly nervous chuckle, taking a slow step away from you. he wasn't sure what exactly you were capable of, but he sure as hell didn't want to find out. especially since he hadn't been able to land a single strike on you since training began. him and fushiguro were fighting air at this point.
“c'mon, you both've been doing pretty well. let's take five.” yuuta hummed, waving his hand dismissively at the two boys, shooing them off to the benches.
“'pretty well'? we literally haven't been able to even slightly jab you guys within the past thirty minutes!” itadori protested, damn near baffled. clearly, he wasn't keen on giving up this early.
“leave it, itadori. he wants us to leave so he can lock lips with his girlfriend. let's go.” fushiguro piped up, grabbing a squirming itadori by the collar, dragging him away from you and yuuta. meanwhile, yuuta's cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips pursing and a hand came up to his face as he murmered.
“shut it, she's not my girlfriend. we're just friends.”
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ryngzmn · 11 months ago
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₊˚ෆ | phone troubles | S.B (1)
SUMMARY: After Butcher leaves you to watch Soldier Boy, you decide to teach him to use a mobile phone.
WARNINGS: not proofread, mention of drugs, implied drug use (it’s only ben doing it), swearing, maybe OOC ben???
WORD COUNT: 885.
A/N: changed the title layout to make it look nicer / neater! ALSO WHY IS THE GIF SO FUCKING BIG HJHJGJGJGJGJFJ
part two! | part three! | part four! | part five!
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To be frank, you thought that putting Soldier Boy on board was a bad idea, but Billy Butcher — the guy who was technically your boss — ignored your hesitance and released him from a three decade slumber.
You always stayed away from Soldier Boy, or Ben as you had soon found out, your mistrust and the fact that he was just slightly radioactive kept you away.
Ben didn’t seem to mind either, he never paid much attention to you.
But, the universe and Butcher seemed to have different plans other than you keeping your distance from Ben.
Because now you were standing in the middle of a motel room, Butcher in front you and the rest of The Boys standing near the door.
“I am not staying back to watch Soldier Boy.” You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest like a petulant child.
Butcher barked out a laugh, “Well somebody needs to watch ‘im.”
“Why not make you or Hughie do it? He seems to trust you two the most.” You offered with a shrug.
“I’m the leader of this operation,” Butcher said simply. “So I needa be there on this little mission.”
You shook your head. “Nope. Not doin’ it.”
Butcher scoffed, “Oh come on, luv! Just do it!”
You shook your head again just in a more firm manner this time.
“If I tell you to do sumthin’, you do it.” Butcher said firmly, taking a step closer and pointing a finger at you.
You raised your hands in mock defense. “Okay, okay! Just don’t kill me..” You grumbled.
Butcher let out a triumphant huff before turning to the rest of the people in the room,
“Alright, let’s get outta here.”
You watched Butcher and the others fill out of the room before you turned to Ben, who was sitting on the bed while holding a The Seven merchandise cup in his hand.
“Can you believe men wear this pussy-gear nowadays?” He asked incredulously and pointed to the TV, you turned to the TV to see an ad for a baby carrier that a man just so happened to be wearing.
“It’s the 21st century Ben—“ You started, but Ben cut you off.
“Soldier Boy. It’s fuckin’ Soldier Boy you refer me to.” He demanded, shooting a glare in your direction.
“Crimson Countess used to call me Ben, the fucking bitch…” He muttered under his breath, moving to sit at the couch and crush some cocaine.
You stayed silent for a bit after that, eventually decided to just scroll through your phone.
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After about thirty minutes of mindless scrolling on social media, you spared a glance in Ben’s direction; who was struggling to change a channel with the remote.
“Hey, Be— Soldier Boy.” You quickly corrected yourself, not wanting to face Ben’s aggressive wrath for fucking up what name he demanded you call him.
“Hm?” Ben looked in your direction, raising an eyebrow.
“Come here,” You patted the empty space on the sofa beside you.
Ben crossed his arms defiantly. “And why should I?”
“Because I want to show you something.” You rolled your eyes. “Now come here.”
Ben begrudgingly got up from the cocaine patch he had made himself after ‘the last batch was too weak’ on the table before walking over to the couch.
He plopped down on the space beside you, and you could’ve sworn you bounced a bit because of how heavy this man was.
“Here,” You shoved your phone into his hands, and he looked at your Home Screen.
“Why do I fucking need this?” Ben looked over at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
“Because I wanna see if you can work a phone.”
“I obviously can’t. I couldn’t even work the shitty remote.” Ben grumbled, tempted to shove the phone back in your hands.
But then he accidentally swiped to the side, and he watched as the apps that previously showed up just slid to the side as new ones popped up.
“What the fuck..?” His eyebrows furrowed in barely visible awe.
“You got the hang of it already!” You said with a light laugh, making an up gesture.
“Now swipe up to see the apps I’ve had open.” Ben followed your instructions, swiping up to see what apps you had open previously.
“Huh, that’s so weird.” He mumbled, poking at the screen a bit before he eventually opened an app.
“What is this?” You looked over and notice he was in your messages.
“This is how you text and call people.”
“Like I can text Butcher or Hughie right now.” You continued, and Ben seemed to have an idea in his head before scrolling down a bit to find Hughie’s contact.
You watched as he started slowly typing with just one finger, soon spelling out the message: ‘Hey pussy-boy’
Shaking your head, you looked up to meet Ben’s mischevious gaze.
“Seriously? Don’t send that-“ But it was too late, Ben had already hit send as soon as you met his eyes.
You sighed. Yet, you knew that Hughie would know Ben sent it.
Ben was the only one that called Hughie pussy-boy.
Turning back to your phone, you swiped up again and picked another app for Ben to explore while you showed him how to work a mobile phone.
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feedback is appreciated, especially since this is my first drabble after not writing for a while!
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formulawonderland · 2 months ago
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Monaco Baby!
In which he wins at Monaco
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: drinking, talk of kids/starting a family, suggestive language, implied smut
1.9k words
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"I did it!" he laughed, practically barreling into you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and almost making you spill your drink.
"I know, you've said that like twenty times in the last five minutes," you laughed, moving his arms slightly so he wasn't choking you as much.
"Because it's true!" he said, leaning down and pressing his face against your neck. "I did it."
"You did," you smiled, setting down your drink and reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "You did it. You absolutely fucking did it."
He nuzzled his face further against your neck, holding you tightly. "All because of you," he mumbled.
"You did that all on your own baby," you chuckled, tugging on his curls to pull his face back to where you could see.
"Do that again," he hummed, looking at you with slightly glassy eyes.
"Do what?"
"Pull my hair."
"Oh my god, stop!" you laughed, playfully swatting him away. "Keep it in your pants!"
"But you're so pretty," he whined, leaning down to bury his face in your neck again.
"You're drunk."
"Doesn't mean you're not pretty," he mumbled.
"Go," you chuckled, shoving him away again. "Have fun. I'll be here when you're done."
"But I wanna go home now," he whined. "Wanna get you out of that dress."
"I didn't do all this to leave after an hour," you complained with a chuckle, gesturing to your dress and makeup.
You glanced out around the club, and spotted Oscar in a booth across the way.
"Look, Oscar's over there," you said, pointing at him. "I'm sure he'd love to hang out for a while."
Lando's eyes lit up, and he pulled back from you to look at Oscar instead. "Yeah, I'll do that!"
You chuckled as Lando scurried off, not before pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. You knew that Oscar would, in fact, not love to chat with Lando at the moment, especially since Lando was more than a bit tipsy, but oh well. You'd just have to remember to apologize to him later.
---
A few hours later, you were making your way through the crowd, trying to find Lando. He had disappeared from your sight a while ago, and now you were ready to leave.
"Hey, you're back!"
You stumbled as a weight slammed into you from behind, a pair of arms wrapping around you.
"Oof, Lando, let go," you said, trying to pry his arms off of you.
"But you're comfy," he whined, only holding you tighter.
"Yeah, well, you're gonna break my ribs."
He buried his face in your neck, but loosened his grip a bit. "Sorry."
"It's okay," you sighed, reaching an arm up to ruffle his hair. "How about we get going, yeah?"
"Go where?"
"Go home, silly."
"Oh."
"Yeah," you chuckled. "So come on. Let's go."
"But I don't wanna go home," he whined. "I wanna drink more."
"Lan, baby, you can barely stand," you chuckled.
"I'll make you barely stand," he grumbled, beginning to press gentle kisses against your skin.
"Come on baby, not here," you protested, pushing him away gently.
"But why not?" he asked, going right back to kissing your neck. "Want everyone to see. Want 'em to see how much I love you."
"Okay, nope, we're getting you home," you laughed, pushing him away more forcefully this time.
He whined as you did, but resorted to grabbing your hand instead as you dragged him out of the club. He only let go once you got to the steps, grabbing your arm instead for stability.
You guided him down the steps and to the street, having to keep him from stumbling every other step.
"How long until we get home?" he asked, walking beside you.
"I don't know, a few minutes?"
"That's too long," he whined. "I wanna get you home now."
"Well you'll have to wait," you said, turning down a side street.
"So unfair," he grumbled under his breath, but he walked alongside you anyway.
The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, Lando leaning on you and seemingly becoming more unbalanced every step. A few blocks from his apartment, he spoke up again.
"I won Monaco."
You looked over, chuckling slightly. "Yes. Yes you did."
"I won Monaco," he repeated. "I- baby, I won Monaco."
"I know you did Lando," you chuckled. "You very much did."
"I'm gonna tell my kids that," he said determinedly. "My kids are gonna say their dad won Monaco." He paused and looked over at you. "Our kids are gonna have a Monaco-winning dad."
Your steps faltered for a moment as you heard his words. "Our- our kids?"
"Mhm," he nodded, not noticing the effect he had on you. "They're gonna say that their dad won Monaco."
You stayed silent for a moment, just focused on helping him get to the apartment building. "You're drunk," you mumbled, shaking your head slightly. "You're so absolutely drunk."
You finally managed to get him up to his apartment, and you helped him inside before shutting and locking the door behind you. He stumbled to the couch and held out his arms, beckoning you to come closer. "C'mere."
His arms matched onto you, pulling you down onto the couch with him as soon as you got close enough.
"Lando, baby, we need to go to bed," you protested.
"Later," he mumbled, pulling you onto his lap and burying his face in your neck. "I wanna hold you."
You sighed and relaxed into his touch, wrapping an arm around his neck.
"I love you," he murmured, pressing light, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. "I love you so much."
"I love you too baby," you said softly, rubbing you free hand up and down his side.
"I'm gonna marry you one day," he mumbled, so low you almost didn't hear him at first. "Gonna marry you, gonna put a kid in you, and gonna spoil you both so much."
You sucked in a breath, pulling away slightly. "Lando-"
"Gonna be my wife," he said, following you and pressing his lips to your shoulder instead. "You're gonna be my pretty little wife, and I'm gonna be your pretty little husband, and we're gonna have pretty little kids in a pretty little house in a pretty little city, and we're gonna be a pretty little family."
"Lando, wait," you said, pushing him away as you leaned back again. "Don't- don't say those things. Don't say it if you don't mean it."
"Who says I don't mean it?" he asked, looking at you. "I'm gonna wife you up."
"Lando, stop," you repeated, trying to keep you voice steady. "You're drunk. You need to get to bed."
"But I don't wanna sleep," he whined.
"Well, I do," you said, standing up from the couch. "We can talk in the morning."
"But I wanna talk now," he protested, standing up behind you with a slight wobble. "C'mon, I just wanna kiss you."
He stumbled over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck.
"No, Lando," you said, shaking him off. "I'm tired. We're going to bed."
He stood behind you as you walked to the bedroom, confusion taking over his head. What had he done wrong? Why were you suddenly being so mean to him.
He stepped towards you, stumbling slightly but regaining his footing enough to catch up to you. He reached out for your wrist, trying to turn you around to face him.
"Stop it," you snapped, pulling your arm away.
He dropped his arm to his side, freezing at your tone. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking away.
You sighed, turning back around to look at him. "No, it's fine," you said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're drunk, you don't know what you're doing."
"I'm not that drunk," he pouted, crossing his arms.
"Mhm, sure you're not," you said, rolling your eyes. "Come on. Let's get you in bed."
You guided him through a shortened version of a nightly routine, eventually getting him into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt and tucking him into bed.
"Where are you going?" he asked as you walked over to turn off the light.
"I'm just turning off the lights baby, I'll be right there," you chuckled, flipping the switch and making your way back to the bed.
"M'kay," he mumbled, rolling over to face you as you got under the covers. He pressed his cheek against yours, trailing gentle half-kisses around your lips.
"Lan, stop it, you smell like alcohol still," you laughed, ducking your face away.
"But I wanna kiss you," he whined, trying to put his face back.
"You can kiss me tomorrow, okay?" you chuckled, pushing his head down onto your chest.
"Fine," he grumbled, tossing an arm over your side and tangling his legs with yours.
"Good night Lando," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his hair.
"Night," he mumbled. "Love you."
"I love you too," you smiled softly, resting your head on top of his and closing your eyes.
---
You woke the next morning to Lando laying on top of you and pressing kisses to your face.
"Good morning baby," you chuckled, looking down at him and blinking the sleep from your eyes.
"Mm," he hummed, stopping to press his lips against yours. "Morning."
You kissed him back for a moment before pulling back to breathe, looking into his eyes. "How you feeling?"
"Like shit," he mumbled, resting his head on your chest. "My head hurts."
"Yeah, well, that's what you get for drinking so much," you teased.
"Oh shut up," he grumbled. "I deserved it."
"Yes you did, my Monaco winner," you agreed, working his hair.
"I can't believe I get to say that now," he murmured. "Can't believe our kids are gonna get to say that."
You sucked in a breath, pulling gently on his hair to make him look up at you. "Lando..."
"I mean it," he said, looking into your eyes. "What I said last night. I mean it."
"Baby, I-"
"Just listen," he said, shaking his head. "I know it's only been a couple years, but I really love you. And I could see myself with you forever. And we don't have to do anything now, or ever if that's what you want, but I just need you to know that I'm in this. All the way."
"Shit, Lando," you breathed, your words getting caught in your throat. "I- shit, baby, I love you so much."
You cupped his cheeks and pulled his face back up to yours, crashing your lips against his. "I love you," you mumbled against his lips. "I love you I love you I love you."
You buried your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him as close to you as physically possible.
"I'm all yours baby," he murmured, eagerly kissing you back. "Forever. Always. I'm yours."
He held you like he had a point to prove, even though you already believed him. But he spent all day showing you just how much he loved you, every last inch.
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Author's note: I just wanted to do something fun to celebrate Lando's win, I was just so happy watching him
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