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#I wanted to kiss her so many times today. in a way that just feels natural and right yk?
lee-laurent · 3 days
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T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes
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Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.
wc: 7k
content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)
notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!
just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning
Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.
"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"
"Hm? He did... good."
"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"
"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"
"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"
"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.
"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"
Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.
"Ooo, she's totally into him!"
"You should go talk to him, Am!"
"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.
"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."
"Guys..."
But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.
"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.
"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.
He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."
Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."
"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.
Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"
She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."
Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"
"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.
"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."
His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."
"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."
She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.
"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."
"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."
"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"
"Umich?"
"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."
"You move here because..."
"For hockey. I play hockey."
"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"
"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"
"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."
"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.
"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.
"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"
"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.
"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."
"They play for... the same team?"
"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.
"Ah! The Canucks!"
"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.
"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."
"Guess you could say that."
She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.
"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"
"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."
"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"
"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."
"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."
"Maybe. You will have to see."
"Challenge accepted."
Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.
"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.
Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."
"Me too."
There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."
"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.
"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.
He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.
"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.
Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."
Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."
"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"
Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."
"Probably?"
"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."
"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.
Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.
~~
Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.
They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.
You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)
Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.
Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.
I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.
Deal.
~~
Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.
The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.
Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.
It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.
She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.
"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."
"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.
"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."
She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.
"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."
"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.
"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."
"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.
Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."
"You like it?"
"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"
"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."
"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."
"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.
Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.
"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.
She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.
"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"
"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."
"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."
"I am just better than him."
Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."
"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."
"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."
"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .
"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."
"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."
"I like talking with you too, Amélie"
~~
It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.
"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.
"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"
Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"
She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"
He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"
"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.
Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."
Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.
Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."
She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."
Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like... this."
Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.
Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.
Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.
Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.
They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."
Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."
"Good or bad?"
"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.
~~
"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"
"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."
"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."
"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."
Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."
Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."
"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.
"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"
Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.
They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.
He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.
Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)
Only if we watch it in French so I can practice
Deal.
When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.
Just go with the flow. No pressure
Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.
"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.
"Hey! Missed you."
"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"
"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.
They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.
"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."
"I like you too, Luke. A lot."
"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.
"You really want that?" she gushed.
Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."
"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.
Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.
"So, it is official?" she whispered.
"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."
She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."
"Let's get started then, girlfriend."
~~
"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.
"Oh, um, I can ask her."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"
Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."
"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."
"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."
Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."
"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."
"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."
"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."
"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."
"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."
~~
Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.
"Hey, Am."
"Hmm?"
"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."
She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"
"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.
She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."
He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."
"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."
Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."
~~
"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.
"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.
"What?"
"It's... it's a saying."
She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."
Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."
"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"
"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."
"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"
"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.
~~
Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.
Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"
She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."
"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."
Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."
"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."
The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.
"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.
Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."
Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."
"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."
She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.
"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."
"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.
Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.
The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.
"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.
"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.
"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.
"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."
"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"
She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."
"That's awesome. What're you studying?"
Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.
"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."
"That's sick," Jack nodded along.
The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.
After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.
Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.
Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.
She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.
With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.
"Everything okay?"
She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.
Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.
"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."
The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."
He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."
"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.
"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."
"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."
"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"
"You love me?"
"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."
"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."
"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."
"I-"
"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."
"Mensonges?"
"If that's what it's called, then yes."
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you too, Am."
~~
"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."
"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.
"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."
"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."
"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."
"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."
"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."
~~
Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.
"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"
"Sure."
She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."
"What, you mean messy?"
She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."
"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."
"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."
"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."
"Where's Jack?"
"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"
Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."
"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."
The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.
Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."
"I know... just... want him to like me."
"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."
"Love you, Lu."
"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.
"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.
"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."
"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."
"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."
"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."
She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.
"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"
"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."
"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"
She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."
Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."
~~
"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.
Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."
He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."
"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."
Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."
"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."
They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.
~~
Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.
"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.
"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"
"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."
Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.
"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)
"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)
"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)
"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)
Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"
She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."
"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."
She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"
"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"
"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."
"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.
Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"
From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.
"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."
"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."
Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"
"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."
"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"
"I'm a little nervous though."
"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."
"You promise?"
"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."
"Can't wait."
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iamtired10 · 2 days
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sick in love
pairing - pham hanni x female reader
genre - pureeeee fluffffffffff!!!
synopsis - your girlfriend has this weird obsession with getting drenched in the rain, even though you’ve told her so many times not to. of course, she doesn’t listen, and now she’s sick—and somehow, it’s all your fault. now you’ve got to deal with this clingy, whiny kid, who's acting like it’s the end of the world while you play nurse.
warning - nothing much... just some fluff and whining
word count - 1.5k
a/n - guess who’s about to get super busy next week and won’t be updating for a while :)
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it all started with the rain.
nah, scratch that—it started with hanni’s bizarre love for the rain, the way she romanticized every single drop that fell from the sky as if it were some poetic blessing from above.
you knew better.
rain, to you, was wet and cold, and most importantly, the perfect recipe for catching a nasty cold.
but hanni? oh, hanni couldn’t care less.
but you tried everything to convince her.
everything.
“hanni, it’s literally pouring out here! you’ll catch a cold!”
you had pulled out your umbrella as soon as the clouds started weeping above the two of you, but hanni had other plans in mind.
she beamed, those signature crescent-shaped eyes gleaming as raindrops began to land on her cheeks.
“come on! it’s just a bit of rain. what’s the worst that could happen?” she took a playful step backward into the downpour, her carefree giggle piercing through the sound of the rain.
“i’ll tell you what’s gonna happen—you’re gonna get sick, that’s what!”
you were grumpy by nature, the forever practical one, always two steps ahead when it came to worrying about things like catching a cold.
you tugged her wrist back, trying to shield her with the umbrella.
but hanni? nope.
she shook her head like a puppy and ran further into the rain.
“catch me!” she twirled around, arms outstretched, water soaking her through.
you couldn’t help but watch her for a moment. she was beautiful, even when she was being an absolute menace.
but now wasn’t the time to admire her stubbornness.
now was the time to stop her from getting drenched head to toe.
“i swear to god, pham hanni, if you get sick because of this—”
oops, too late.
three days later, you found yourself exactly where you didn’t want to be: sitting in bed with a feverish hanni clinging to your waist, her breath slightly hot as she buried her face in your shirt.
“you’re so mean,” she grumbled between coughs, her voice raspy and whiny, the kind of voice that made you want to sigh in frustration and kiss her forehead at the same time. “you didn’t stop me from getting sick…”
you raised a brow, leaning back against the pillows. “i literally tried. multiple times.”
“yeah, well…” she sniffled dramatically, leaning more of her weight onto you, practically becoming deadweight. “you didn’t try hard enough.”
she looked up at you with the most innocent pout. the fever had made her eyes a little glassy, but she was still just as demanding as ever.
you loved her so much, but oh god, she was getting on your nerves today.
“hanni,” you said in your most grumpy tone, “you’re impossible, you know that?”
she only responded by hugging you tighter, squishing herself against your side. “i don’t feel good… i need cuddles.” she nuzzled into your neck, her breath fanning over your skin.
you could feel her warmth.
and not just the warm-you-up-on-a-cold-day kind of warmth, but the i-have-a-fever kind of warmth.
you sighed, pressing the back of your hand to her forehead to check her temperature.
she was still a bit too warm for comfort.
“you need to rest, babe," you whispered, though the gruffness in your tone barely masked the tenderness in your voice. “you’re burning up.”
hanni shook her head, her hair brushing against your neck. “nooooo, i need youuuuu,” she mumbled, her words slurred together like a stubborn child.
you rolled your eyes but pulled her closer, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to give you any personal space until she felt better. hanni had always been clingy, but when she was sick?
she was ten times worse.
if you even moved an inch, she’d whine and pull you back into her arms.
it was cute, you’d admit, but it was also exhausting.
“stop moving,” hanni grumbled, tugging on your shirt to pull you back against her. “i can’t get comfy if you keep wiggling around.”
“i have to get up and get your medicine. and water. and maybe some soup.”
“noooo,” she whined, her voice muffled by your shoulder. “i don’t want soup. i want you.”
you sighed again, this time with a softer edge, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “now you’re literally attached to me like a baby koala.”
“not a baby koala,” she mumbled, pouting again. “a sick, sad koala. big difference.”
“oh, sorry. a sick, sad koala,” you corrected, rolling your eyes playfully as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her even closer. “better?”
she nodded, snuggling back into your chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. “better… but i still feel awful. stay with meeeeee.”
you sighed, your grumpy exterior faltering as you softened under her gaze. it was hard to stay mad when she looked at you like that, all doe-eyed and needy.
you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, brushing some of her messy hair out of her face.
“okay, you big baby,” you murmured, “i’ll stay for a bit. but you need to promise me that you’ll take your medicine later, alright?”
“mm-hmm,” she mumbled, snuggling further into your embrace. “i promise.”
for a moment, it was quiet.
just the sound of her shallow breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets as she shifted closer to you. you closed your eyes, resting your chin on top of her head as you let the silence wash over you.
but of course, hanni had to break it.
“hey,” she whispered, her voice still soft but with a mischievous edge to it. “wanna kiss?”
you blinked, turning your head to look at her. “hanni, you’re sick.”
“so?” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in the most adorable way. “i still wanna kiss…”
you raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching as you fought the urge to laugh. “babe, you’re literally a walking virus right now. i’m not kissing you.”
hanni whined, her grip on you tightening as she buried her face further into your neck. “pleeease?”
“nope,” you said, shaking your head firmly. “not happening.”
“but i miss kissing you,” she mumbled, her voice small and pitiful. “just one little kiss?”
“hanni, you’ll get me sick,” you said, gently pushing her head away from your neck. “and then who’s going to take care of you?”
“i’ll take care of you,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the blanket she had wrapped herself in.
you couldn’t help but chuckle, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead instead. “nice try, but no. you’re gonna have to wait until you’re not contagious.”
hanni pouted again, clearly not happy with your answer.
but before she could whine any further, a sudden fit of sneezes cut her off.
you handed her a tissue, biting back a laugh as she wiped her nose, her expression utterly defeated.
“fine,” she mumbled, slumping back against you. “but as soon as i’m better, i’m kissing you everywhere.”
you snorted, rolling your eyes. “yeah, yeah. we’ll see.”
later that evening, after coaxing her into taking her medicine (which involved more whining and pouting on her part), you finally convinced her to settle down for a proper nap.
she curled up against you, her head resting on your chest as her breathing slowed and evened out.
you gently ran your fingers through her hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as you hummed quietly.
she was so peaceful when she was asleep, all of the day's frustrations and complaints forgotten.
but you knew as soon as she woke up, she’d be back to her clingy, whiny self.
and honestly, you didn’t mind.
you loved taking care of her, even when she was being a handful.
there was something special about being the one she relied on, the one she clung to when she didn’t feel well.
as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing more and more tired. the weight of the day and hanni’s endless need for attention had finally caught up to you, and your eyes began to droop.
just as you were about to drift off, you felt a pair of warm lips press against your cheek.
you blinked, opening your eyes to see hanni grinning up at you, her feverish cheeks still pink. “gotcha,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of mischief.
you groaned, pulling the blanket over both of your heads. “go to sleep, han.”
she giggled, snuggling closer to you as she closed her eyes again. “okay, okay. goodnight, babe.”
“goodnight,” you murmured, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before finally drifting off to sleep.
and despite everything—the rain, the sickness, the whining—you couldn’t help but smile.
because at the end of the day, hanni was your clingy, whiny baby, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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a/n - fluff sucks..
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lousypotatoes · 1 day
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I've Got A Smile On My Face
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Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11
Song Recommendation:
Always - Irving Berlin
Warning! This chapter contains depictions of panic attacks, and graphic violence! If this triggers you or makes you uncomfy in any way shape or form, please read with caution.
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90 years ago...
It had been six months since Alastor kissed Y/N on her front porch. As expected, the two of them were now an item.
During the span of those six months, everything was absolutely perfect. The flower shop was thriving, Alastor's radio show was more popular than ever, Jasper didn't come by the shop since their interaction, and most importantly, Alastor and Y/N were so very much in love, Y/N felt that she fell more in love with him every time she saw him.
The only thing she didn't like about their relationship was the big secret she had to keep from him.
There were times that she oh so badly wanted to tell Alastor that her real job was killing people, and that running the flower shop was a cover up, but she was terrified that he was going to be disgusted with her, and leave her.
And Y/N didn't know what she would do if Alastor left.
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It was mid afternoon, almost noon. The weather outside was very rainy and very stormy. Y/N was arranging the shelves, making sure the flower buds were facing the front.
It always annoyed her when customers would look at flowers and not put them back the correct way.
When she was done, she walked to the register and counted the money.
She sighed. Business was very slow that day, obviously because of the rain. She had almost considered closing the shop up early and going home, but felt it was better to just stay, just in case any customers came in after the rain cleared up.
Sitting down the chair behind the counter, Y/N put her head in her hands, bored as ever.
Hopefully Alastor would come and visit her. He always did, but Y/N thought he might not today obviously because of the stormy weather.
To her surprise and delight, she heard the bell ring, signaling that there was a customer.
"Hello can I help yo-Alastor!"
"Hello, my love," Alastor said, swooping down to catch Y/N in a kiss.
Y/N would never get tired of kissing Alastor, no matter how many time she did kiss him. It was like magic every time.
"How has your day been?" Alastor asked as he pulled away.
"Very slow, but much better now that you're here," Y/N smiled. "How was yours?"
"As slow as molasses," Alastor sighed. "I had to cancel all my broadcasts today because of this damn weather."
"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "It seems like this weather is bringin' everybody down."
"You can say that again," he said. "You thinking of heading home early?"
"I was thinkin' 'bout it," she replied. "I think I'll stick around for a few more hours."
"Well, if you're not busy tonight," Alastor said, grabbing onto her hips. "How about dinner at my place?"
"Depends," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are you gonna be the one cookin'?"
"Of course," he chuckled.
"Then I'll have to take a rain check on that," she giggled. "Dinner sounds nice, what time should I swing by?"
"I prefer around six," Alastor answered..
"Six it is," Y/N said. "You gonna head back home?"
"I suppose so, yes. I gotta tidy up a bit."
"All that for me?"
"Only the best for you, my dear," Alastor said, sincere. "I'll catch you later tonight."
"Aw, alright," Y/N pouted. "If I ain't there by at least seven, you better come and get me and drag me back to your place."
"Alright, I will, I promise," he laughed before leaning down and placing his lips on Y/N's.
The kiss was sweet and loving, as it always was. The way their lips perfectly molded against each other, like they were made for each other, made Y/N's heart feel like it was about to burst.
The only reason they broke apart was so they could breath air.
If Y/N could, she would make Alastor her air.
"Goodbye, Al," she smiled up at him. "I love you."
"I love you most," he said, before letting go of her.
He gave her one more smile before walking out of the shop, the bell ringing, signaling his leave.
Y/N walked back behind the counter, a dreamy smile on her face.
"I'm going to marry that man someday," she dreamily said to herself.
Even though it was rainy and story outside, nothing could ruin this perfect day.
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It was 5:45 in the evening. Y/N was counting the money in the register for the twelfth time that day.
Besides Alastor, only three other people came in the shop that day.
Screw the rainy weather. No one even likes rain that much anyway.
Looking up at the clock, Y/N decided that she was going to stop working, and head over to Alastor's
Going into the back room, she put the money into a safe under a fake floorboard, checked her nightly schedule for that week (thankfully she only had to kill two people that week), and grabbed her umbrella and her raincoat, preparing to go into the cold rainy weather.
Walking out of the back room, she was stopped dead in her tracks, a look of fear and despair on her face.
"J-Jasper," she choked. "What are you doin' here?"
The two of them hadn't interacted since the incident in the flower shop six months ago. Y/N had hoped that Jasper had taken the hint and decided to leave her alone.
But this was Jasper we're talking about, and things never were easy with him, no matter how big or small the situation was.
"Just came to say hi," he said, a sadistic and gleeful smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back, but Y/N didn't know what.
"It's been a while since we've seen each other, thought we could catch up a bit."
He started to walk closer to Y/N, she started to back up.
"So now you're with that mama's boy, Alastor Altruist, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Didn't think you would be into a weirdo like that, but oh well."
Y/N didn't say anything, too frozen in fear to say a single word.
Jasper then revealed what was behind his back. It was a long, thin, razor sharp blade, the kind that Y/N would use when she didn't feel like using any of her guns.
If you wanted to kill someone real quick, you would use a blade like the one Jasper had.
Y/N's eyes widened in fear and terror.
She had a small pistol in her office, but there was no way she was going to be able to get it without putting up a fight.
"Y'know darling," he drawled, creeping very slowly towards her. "I didn't quite like the things you said to me the last time we talked.
Y/N gulped, slowly inching herself towards a shelf holding a dozen flower vases.
Jasper didn't notice. "Not gonna say anything, huh?" he asked, eyes glinting sinisterly.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna spill your fuckin' guts out."
Jasper lunged at Y/N, ready to strike.
Quickly, Y/N grabbed one of the vases on the shelf, and smashed it over Jasper's head, glass shards and flowers going everywhere all over the floor.
"You bitch!" Jasper snarled. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, clutching his bleeding head.
Y/N took this opportunity to try and run out of the front door.
She decided that it was stupid if she locked herself in her back room. If she ran out the front door, she could just run to the nearest public place and get help.
She was just a few feet from the door, when Jasper grabbed onto her wrist, twisting it hard.
Y/N turned around and was getting ready to punch him in the jaw, but that was replaced with a cry of pain and anguish.
Jasper had stabbed Y/N in the stomach, just above where her belly button was.
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and fear, crying out again when Jasper stabbed her a second time.
"How does that feel?" he whispered. "Doesn't feel too good does it?"
"F-" Y/N stuttered. "Fuck you!"
With a snarl, Jasper stabbed her in the shoulder.
Blood was oozing out of all three of her stab wounds, staining both her and Jasper's clothes, and staining the white marble tile.
Jasper dragged her away, propping her in a siting position behind the counter.
"No one's gonna find you right here," he smirked. "Besides, you'll die in at least thirty minutes anyway."
Y/N knew that wasn't right, but didn't say anything, scared out of her mind.
What was she going to do?
She wasn't ready to die.
She didn't want to die.
What would happen to her shop?
What would happen to precious dog, Honey?
What would happen to Alastor?
As one last 'fuck you', Jasper bent down, kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, and walked out the front door, the bell chiming.
As soon as he left, Y/N tried to get off the ground. She tried at least five times. But each time she tried, she failed, she fell back onto the ground with a painful wail.
After the fifth time, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen when someone found her body.
Maybe this was karma for all the people she had killed over the fifteen years she had been an assassin, she thought.
As Y/N thought about it more, she actually didn't feel like she was going to die. Yes, it was painful, but it just felt like she hadn't had any sleep in a really long time.
And she really wanted to sleep.
She looked up at the clock. It was 5:58.
She laughed dryly. If only she had left a little bit earlier, even if it was just a minute, she wouldn't of been on the floor bleeding out.
With one last sigh coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness, and passed out thinking about Alastor and her dog.
In no way she was ready to die, or wanted to, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do, and that this was karma.
She deserved to die, she thought
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CLIFFHANGER
i wont be uploading any time this weekend or next weekend because i'll be in disneyland
i'm so excited
stay safe and drink lots of water <33
xoxo, Izzy
Taglist 💋
@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant
@mo-0-o @cutiebimbo @mommymilkers0526 @mikariell95 @al-of-the-stars
@martinys-world @bibliophile-yomna @mysticwitchcraftco @notsoaverageguy-1997 @flamewriterr
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kuromi-hoemie · 5 days
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i got to spend the whole day with my manager!!! we got to carpool to one of our other offices in another city and had such a good fun day together!! counting the time in transit we worked like an 11 hour shift today but it didn't feel like it bc we had each other!!! i love her!!
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i may have skipped a few steps between that last sentence and the rest of the post but too tired 2 fully articulate + just peruse the #mm (My Manager 🫶🏾 (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)) tag.... also there's more in the op tags if this gets rb for some reason
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mimir97477906 · 1 year
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today my gf lend me her headphones and it was so good i started crying sobbing shaking in a full classrom because stereolab hit THAT hard
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
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Little Things He Does
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: tiny bit of smut
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He knew that you were one of those girls who appreciated the little things and for whom physical touch was one of the biggest indicators of love.
With that in mind, Lando tries to do as many of those little things every day just to make you happy. Some of those little things he isn’t even aware he is doing that you, of course, notice and which make you love him even more if that's even possible.
For example, when you’re making your way through a crowd and paparazzi is pushing their cameras in your faces. Lando is tightly holding your hand, constantly turning to check if you're okay, keeping you close to him and trying to shield you as much as possible because he knows it’s very much out of your comfort zone.
“You okay, baby?” He asked.
“Yeah, barely..”
“Just hold on tight to me, we’re almost there, okay?” He assured you squeezing your hand.
Or how while you're walking down the sidewalk, he moves you to the other side so that he's closer to the road.
“So anyway, I told her that it's not a problem, she just needs to let me know about such things earlier so that I can organize myself.” You rambled to him about work on your evening run on the streets of Monaco.
Except on your way back to the apartment you didn't run anymore because you were too tired and wanted to tell him what happened at work earlier today.
“Yeah, you did the right thing. You shouldn’t keep quiet about such things.”
“I mean I have a life outside of work too, you know?” You sighed.
“You know you don’t have to work, baby..” Lando said sliding his hand around you waist and almost imperceptibly moving you to the other side away from the road.
“Lan, don’t even start with that again. We already had that conversation.”
He kept his hand on your lower back for a while before putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to him.
“Or I can do something for you to go on a maternity leave..” He smirked making you burst out laughing.
Or the way he constantly holds your hand even when he’s talking to somebody and when you try to sneak out of his grip he almost instantly grips you tighter as if you’re going to run away. Or when fans ask him for an autograph, and instead of letting go of your hand, he just switches it from his right to left because he wants you close to him all the time.
Or when he has you underneath him while he’s thrusting into you. When he’s so close he lets you know he’s about to come whispering into your ear.
“Oh yes, yes, Lan, uhh” You close your eyes, your voice coming out in broken moans as he keeps knocking the air out of you.
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum” He stuttered whispering before spilling his hot load inside you. He was gasping for air, tingles ran through his body as he buried hos head in your neck riding out his orgasm.
He often tells you “You’re gonna make me cum” as well wanting to remind you that no one can except for you. And you love the way he becomes so vulnerable after he cums.
You could have the dirtiest sex ever the one where he’s spitting into your mouth, choking you, making you gag around him, spanking you and pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow, but once both of you finish he just wants to take care od you and make sure he didn’t take it too far.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks looking down at you and moving your hair out of your face.
“I’m fine, don’t worry” You smiled. “I loved it”
“I love you so much” He whispers spreading small soft kisses all over the side of your neck.
Or when you're in the paddock together and you're both giving interviews at the same time, you're standing a little further away from him but close enough for him to hear what the reporters are questioning you. He doesn't know that you notice how he can't concentrate on the questions they're asking him because he keeps turning his head towards your direction keeping his eyes on you to make sure they're not making you feel uncomfortable. So when the reporter asks him something he just keeps saying "sorry, can you repeat that?"
Or the way that when you're going to some kind of event or even just going out, and you're wearing a short dress or some other kind of risky outfit, he opens the car door for you and stands in front to shield you from the paparazzi until you fix your dress and are ready to step out of the car.
Or the way he always comes to apologize first when you have an argument. Neither of you can stand going to bed fighting, it's not natural for you. It doesn't matter if it's your fault or his, he's always the one who comes first and says "let's not do this".
You weren't even sure how the argument came about, but you found yourself yelling at each other for some stupid reason. You were tired and annoyed because he wasn't listening to what you were saying, he was still stressed from losing the race and you just went off on each other.
He let it take an hour for you both to calm down and give each other some space, but he didn't last much longer than that before he came into the room where you were lying on your shared bed reading a book in the dim light.
He sat next to you on the bed, and you ignored him, not taking your eyes off the book. He then gently took the book from your hands and moved even closer to you taking your cheeks between his palms.
"Let's not do this, okay? I feel bad for yelling and I'm sorry about that." He says caressing your cheek with his thumb. "I don't like when we're fighting and when we can't talk things out."
You remain silent for a few seconds to swallow the tears that have gathered in your eyes. "I don't like it either. I overreacted and I'm sorry too." Your voice cracked and the tears started to roll down your cheeks.
"Baby, hey, there's no reason to cry." He said pulling you to him and kissing the side of your head.
"Sorry, I just feel so bad right now because I know you still feel bad about the race and I feel like I didn't give you enough support and comfort but I just took it out on you for nothing."
"It's okay, baby, being with you now is the only comfort I need."
Or that one time when Lando met a little fan in the paddock who asked him about you.
"Is that your girlfriend?" The little boy asked pointing his finger towards you. You weren't with them but talking to some other fan further away from the two of them.
Lando looked in the direction the boy was pointing and nodded. "Yeah, that's y/n, my girlfriend." He said and the little boy giggled. "What?" Lando chuckled.
"She's pretty." The boy said and Lando couldn't hide his ear-to-ear grin.
He looked towards you again and said "I know, right? The prettiest."
Or the way he kisses you on the cheek. There's something about the way he does it. It just feels so special when he comes up from behind you, wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and presses his lips to your cheek. Or when you're watching TV on the couch and you're lying between his legs leaning against him and every now and then he leans his head down to leave a soft kiss on your cheek.
Lando knows that you don't like too much PDA, especially in front of your friends. You're not a fan of kissing in front of them and Lando respects that, but still manages to steal a kiss on the cheek even in front of them.
Or the way when both of your are in the kitchen and you're trying to reach something from the top shelf and he does it for you before you even get to ask him to.
Or the way he keeps snapping pictures of you when you're not looking.
Or the way he keeps a funny picture of you as his wallpaper.
Or the way he looks at you as you happily jump and sing along when he surprises you by taking you to your favorite concert. He is so fulfilled when you are happy, and that is exactly all he needs, you being happy.
Or the way he talks about you in interviews.
"I live a pretty fast-paced life and I tend to put myself under a lot of pressure. Then there's the pressure of being constantly in the public eye as well. Always on the move, training a lot, it often gets to a point where it just becomes too much, you know? It tends to be very overwhelming and exhausting, but all of that disappears the second I come home to her. She makes all of my worries go away and reminds me of what's really important in life. She always puts me back on track. I couldn't do it without her."
All those little things that he does are anything but little to you.
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writtenapoiogy · 2 months
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patience running thin; jacaerys velaryon
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pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader
summary: 'You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient.'
word count: 1.3k
warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w/o plot, somewhat canon compliant, hot HOT make out, fingering, hair pulling, groping, high valyrian used w translation (if it is wrong i obviously don't know hv please forgive me), jacaerys is feral.
a/n: i had to write and publish something about jace pronto i hope everyone enjoys! i may write a part 2 😁 (this is so minimally proofread it is 1am)
READ PART TWO HERE
“What are you doing here my love?” You said as Jacaerys walked you into your bedchamber and shut your door with his foot.
His eyebrows furrowed. “What can I not see my betrothed?” Jace leaned down crashing his lips upon yours. He needed this every day. Feeling your lips against his helped center him during this crazy war. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you completely against him.
You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient. He’s wanted nothing more than to be inside of you since the date was set. Every time you two went to share a kiss there was nothing but heat behind it, a simple peck would lead to deeper kisses. Pushed against walls. Hands anywhere they could reach. Hushed moans drowned out by kisses.
He brought his hands from around you to cup your face and yours went to unpin his cloak. It fell to the floor alongside his sheathed sword they both fell and a loud clank resonated around the room.
“I missed you today.” Jacaerys ran his nose from behind your ear down to your collarbone. Taking in your scent. A warm vanilla, he could moan at your smell alone. You had just had your nightly bath.
He walked you towards your bed until the two of you fell on top of your bed cover. He kneeled over you, his mouth was all over your neck and the parts of your chest that were exposed.
Your hands were entangled in his exquisite curls. Gasps and moans left your mouth. You spread your legs and he ran his hand up one, piling your dress around your waist.
“I do not think I can keep my honor intact much longer,” Jace spoke his hand entirely too close to your small clothes.
You let out small gasps reaching your head towards him, wanting nothing more than to grasp his lips yet again.
“Jacaerys.” You whined desperately against his lips. “I cannot wait.”
He groaned and pulled away from you shaking his head. “Do not say that.” He sat on the backs of his legs looking down at you. “I cannot hear that. We marry in less than four days and every day we get closer, I am finding my honor on a very very thin line. I cannot be in control of what happens if I hear that.”
“Does it really count as dishonor when we marry so soon?” You smiled.
“We cannot.” He began to look at your frame. He could see your hard nipples through the thin material of your sleepwear. Looking at your beautiful legs. All the way up to where your dress was just barely covering your most intimate area. You looked so beautiful in front of him.
“We can.” You sat up running your hands up his chest. “And you are wearing too many clothes.”
“We canno-.”
“Jacaerys! Do something, please. Anything I’ll take anything you’ll give me… please.” You couldn’t take it anymore. These past few weeks, you’ve become touch starved for your soon-to-be husband. But touched starved in a place you have never felt him. Between the promiscuous kisses against walls in empty corridors. To the heated make-outs in each other beds. It was simply too much for you. You couldn’t handle it anymore.
You saw something flash in Jace’s eyes at your words. He was on you in seconds. Pulling your night dress down just enough to see the swell of your breasts. “I do not wish to spoil myself of your entirety before we are vowed to each other. I wish not to ruin the anticipation. To see my wife in all of her glory.”
You moaned at his words. He took your lips, pushing you back down on the bed, moaning into your mouth. He was kneeling over you. Your hands were tangled in his hair. This was all too much for both of you.
His cock screaming for release inside of his tight pants. You felt your stomach twisting in such delight. Your skin was ablaze, feeling his hands and mouth all over you. He brought his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, groping one through your clothes with his slender hands.
“Ja-Jacaerys. More. Please.” You struggled to get out through gasps and groans.
Jacaerys pulled his mouth away from your breast. He dragged his hand down from your breast slowly down your side till it was past your dress and going up the inner side of your thigh.
You felt your breath get stuck in a lump in your throat as you anticipated his next move. His eyes never left yours. Beautiful browns. So deep right now they almost looked like were brown mixed with blood red.
He brought his other hand down with him to pull your thin undergarments off of your body. His body had a visceral reaction to the smell of your arousal, which filled his nose as soon as he removed your small clothes. “Ao jāhor sagon se morghon hen issa.” You will be the death of me.
You not being of Targaryen blood, you did not understand what he just said. But him speaking the ancient language of High Valyrian did something to you. “Jace.” You whined.
Jacaerys brought his finger forward rubbing it through you wet folds. You jerked when his finger lightly touched your clit.
His eyes sparked mischievously, “Do you find that pleasurable, my love.” You mewled when he circled his finger over it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He continued to play with your clit as you threw your hand to the back of his head, rocking your hips against his finger. You whispered in his ear that you needed him to put it inside of you.
He quickly slipped his index finger inside of you and groaned at your tightness. He began to pump his finger. All he could do was look at you in pure awe. Your breasts struggled to free themselves as you arched your back at the pleasure. Sweat droplets pilling up on your forehead. Your mouth was wide open as you let out wanton moans and cries of his name.
“Oh, you are perfect. Please look at me.” Jacaerys spoke when he curled his index finger inside of you, trying to see what made you tick. Looks like he hit it right on the spot. He couldn’t help but smirk, feeling a bit arrogant.
You opened your eyes as you let out a loud whimper. Jace immediately crashed his lips to yours in an open mouth kiss full of tongue and spit and lust. He pulled away, keeping his finger curling into the soft spot inside of you.
You looked down at the tent in his pants and couldn’t stop yourself from reaching your hand out to touch your prince but he immediately protested.
“If you touch me there that line of honor I have will snap. Do you rea-,” Jacaerys began before he was cut off by a knock at your door. Jacaerys stopped what he was doing and looked at you with wide eyes. “Tell them to go.” He leaned down and whispered against your lips.
“I am feeling a bit unwell. Please could this wait till the morning?” Jace smiled at you and then took your lips again. His hand resumed its actions as well.
“Little prince, I know you’re in there. Your mother is waiting for you at the painted table.”
Both of your faces blanched as you recognized no one other than Daemon Targaryen on the outside of the door.
Jacaerys removed his finger from inside of you and you hissed. He gave you a quick kiss before getting out of your bed to straighten himself up.
After he donned his cloak again, he gave you another kiss. “I will see you in the morning, Princess.”
You smiled at him as he helped get you situated under your covers. He was out the door before you could help him fix his hair. You laughed at the thought.
READ PART TWO HERE
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pucksandpower · 8 months
Text
Thawed
Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader
Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman
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“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.
You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”
Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”
You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”
As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.
Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.
When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.
***
“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.
Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.
Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.
In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.
“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.
The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.
Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”
Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.
Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.
You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.
Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.
Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.
“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.
You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”
He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.
Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.
Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.
You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.
***
“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”
Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.
You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”
He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.
Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.
“Well? What did they say?”
Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”
He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.
“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”
You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.
“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”
He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”
You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.
***
You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.
“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.
He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.
Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”
She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.
“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.
“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.
He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.
Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.
***
The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.
Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.
“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.
Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.
You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”
Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”
You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”
He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”
You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”
His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”
Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.
“Always.”
***
“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.
He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.
With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.
“Kimi ...”
“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.
You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”
His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.
He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”
You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.
“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.
The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.
“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”
You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.
***
You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.
Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.
“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.
Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.
Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”
“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.
You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”
He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.
“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”
Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.
He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”
You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”
His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.
***
You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.
“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.
He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.
You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”
He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.
“What is it?” You whisper.
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”
Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.
***
You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.
He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.
“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.
You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”
He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”
You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”
He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.
When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.
“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.
“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.
He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.
You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.
***
“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.
You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”
Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.
“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”
The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.
Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”
Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”
You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”
He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.
No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.
***
You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.
“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”
He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.
The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.
It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”
Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”
Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”
Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”
Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”
You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”
Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”
As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.
***
You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?
The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.
Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!
You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.
You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”
He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.
As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.
His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.
“Love you too,” he murmurs.
The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.
***
“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.
You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.
“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”
He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.
“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”
You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”
“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”
You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”
He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”
***
You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.
Three minutes have never felt so long.
When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.
Positive.
Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.
You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.
He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”
Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.
Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”
You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.
When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.
You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”
***
You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.
“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.
Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.
The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.
Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.
After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”
You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.
Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.
He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”
You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.
***
You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.
Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.
Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.
“What’s wrong, love?”
You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.
A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”
Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”
Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.
“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”
He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”
His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.
He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”
You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.
***
A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.
“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.
You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.
“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”
Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.
Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.
“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.
Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”
His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.
Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.
Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.
Your family, whole at last.
***
You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.
Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.
He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.
As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”
He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.
You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.
When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.
“You okay?” He rumbles.
You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.
Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.
Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.
“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.
He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”
Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.
But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.
You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”
He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.
No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.
***
“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”
Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”
The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”
You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”
Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.
“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”
The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.
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inkskinned · 10 months
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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imaginaryf1shots · 4 months
Text
Clingy | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 1.3K
Lewis x wife!reader
Summery:(REQUESTED) Just lewis being affectionate and clingy to his wife.
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
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Lewis has always been the attentive type, you loved to spoil you and take care of you. He's very loving and caring, he started picking up on your little wants and needs very early in the relationship without you even having to say anything. What was weird is how much more all his love became, everything just intensified for some unknown reason, it was amplified.
Lewis never asked you to travel with him to any of his races, he always just left you to pick and choose when you wanted, he never wanted to pressure you into coming if you didn't feel up to it. But as of late it all has changed, each week he'd ask you to fly with him.
"But Lewis, I don't have any more clothes, I'll go home and next week I'll fly out with you." You'd say and he'd just laugh.
"Sweetheart, I can buy all the clothes you want." Needing anything was not an excuse to Lewis, he earned more than enough for you to dress in new clothes every day if you wanted. And you earn your own money from working in his team as well, so money was not an issue. Offering you a job on his team was also one of the ways he'd kept you close.
"Fine, I'll go with you." You say giving up and Lewis leans over to press a loving kiss to your lips. "Only because you're cute though."
"Hey, I'll take it." You both laugh enjoying the moment.
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Lewis isn't the biggest fan of PDA, sure he's kissed you when he won races before and don't get me started on the kisses you shared whenever he won world championships, the online girlies went crazy over these. Lately they have way more content to share around containing you two, or more like Lewis's hands.
He's always touching you one way or another, holding your hand, his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back to his front as you both talked to someone, arm around your waist, on your butt on your thighs, his hands were everywhere.
"My timeline is filled with you touching me." You tell Lewis while you were in the car on the way to the track, you turn the phone for him to see. His hand was on your thigh from the moment you got in the car.
"What can I say, I just have a beautiful and irresistible wife." Lewis says and you chuckle.
"Flattery does nothing, you're already married to me." You tease Lewis, he smiles at you.
"Best thing that has ever happened to me." You blush at the look he's giving you, you try to hide your face from him, it's been so many years since you started dating and he still has that effect on you. "Don't hide your face."
That makes you blush more, Lewis kisses your cheek lovingly, and you lean into him.
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The rare times you're not together, you're always texting. Check-ins are a must in your relationship. Just small texts, where are you? How was your day? Did you eat? Do you need anything? Do you want anything? And a ton of I miss you(s) and I love you(s).
During race weeks, when he was in the garage or in a meeting, he'd always pop in or look for you to spend just a few minutes together before he's whisked somewhere else.
"Lewis, you look happy today." The interviewer commented at the smiley man in front of her, his smile was contagious.
“Yeah, it’s just my wife is standing right there." Lewis said and pointed at where you were smiling and talking to one of the Mercedes staff, unaware of his eyes that went to you every once and a while. But you felt it when the camera turned to face you along with everyone else. You slowly stopped talking and looked at everyone weirded out how they all turned to you at once.
"Uh hi." You say uncertain, waving your arm slightly at them.
"Lewis was just saying you're the reason he's so happy today." The interviewer said and your eyes went to your husband who was smiley just like he was all weekend.
“He's just been giddy all weekend." You try to make the focus go elsewhere, despite being in the spotlight for years because of Lewis you still weren't 100% comfortable with the attention especially when it was mainly on you.
"I'm just happy she's here this weekend." Lewis says and you smile at him refusing to say anything, since you're there most weekends.
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There was a rare weekend when you were feeling a tad bit tired and wanted to just stay back home, feeling a bit sick and exhausted. After the race Lewis flew home straight away, the race was in Italy so the flight to Monaco was a very short one. When Lewis made it home the first thing he did was head to the living room where you sat watching your comfort show.
You heard the front door open and close, making you smile to yourself anticipating the warm greeting. And within seconds, Lewis was by your side, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle yet possessive embrace.
"Hey, love." He murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Missed you so much."
"You saw me not even four days ago." You chuckle softly pausing your show.
"It's still too long." He sighed, tightening his hold on you. You couldn't help but laugh, it was all too funny, how protective and clingy he's become in the last couple of months. It was like he sensed it all before she did, something that she was sure of just today. The incline that you had proven today and it put everything in perspective.
"Lewis." You say pushing his braids out of his face, you turn so you're facing him, his arms loosening from around you. His eyes were filled with adoration and love, they were inviting and warm. "I need to tell you something."
“What is it, love?" Lewis asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "Are you alright?" His grip on you tightened a bit. "Is everything alright? Are you sick?"
You shook your head no, your smile widening. "No, nothing like that. Actually, quite the opposite... Lewis, I'm pregnant.”
For a moment there was silence. Lewis took a few seconds to process your words, but once he processed it and it made sense in his mind, his eyes lit up with pure joy and disbelief.
"You're- you're pregnant... we're having a baby?" Lewis stammered, you nodded your eyes filling with tears.
"Yes, we're having a baby." A sound of pure joy just escaped his lips, you laugh as he pulls you up and in a fierce hug.
"Oh my god, this is amazing!" He exclaimed, twirling you around." I'm going to be a dad."
You laughed, the room is filled with the sound of pure happiness and love.
"Yes you are." You lean into him, and you verbalise your theory that you had since you found out. "That's probably why you've been so clingy and protective lately, your instincts knew before we did."
Lewis kissed you deeply, his happiness overflowing.
"I love you so much, and I love our little one already." He whispers against your lips.
"I love you too Lewis." You replied, resting your forehead against his. "I can't wait for us to be parents, and start the next chapter of our life together."
If you thought Lewis was protective and touchy before, you had it wrong. From the moment he found out about you being pregnant he doubled everything that he was before. His attentiveness took on a new meaning. Every touch, every gesture, was filled with even more love and care, now directed not just at you but at the life inside of you. You just relished in his attention and his affection, knowing that your life and your baby's life will just be filled with endless love and happiness.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3
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harrysbelovedd · 5 months
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espresso [rafe cameron]
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“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.
warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe
Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.
To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)
And he liked it that way.
No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.
But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.
“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”
“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.
He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.
“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”
The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”
His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.
“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.
He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”
“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”
“Whe—“
“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.
He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.
-
“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.
“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”
She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“
I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.
“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”
When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.
So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.
“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.
Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.
“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.
She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.
Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”
“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”
one year later
I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.
“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.
“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“
“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.
I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.
I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.
“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.
Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”
He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”
I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”
“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.
My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”
“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”
“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.
“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.
Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“
Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”
Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.
“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.
“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.
Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”
I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”
He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”
I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.
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bueckers · 1 month
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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWGIRL ━━━ paige bueckers
synopsis: you and paige sneak away during her family’s barbecue for the fourth. ✶
pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader
notes: literally have been slacking on every other fic and this is the one thing i jumped to write and finish… talk about matching each other’s freak is all i’ll say. i’m just here to feed families.
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The smell of grilled hot dogs and the sizzle of sparklers in the distance should be enough to keep you in the moment, but your nerves are working overtime. Paige insisted that it wouldn’t be a big deal, that meeting her dad’s side of the family was just another stepping stone in your relationship. But as the two of you step out of the car and make your way up the driveway to the family home, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking into something monumental.
It’s not the first time you’ve questioned what you’re doing with Paige. Not because you doubt her feelings—those have been clear since the night she first kissed you, all intensity and softness in equal measure. But because it still feels surreal, like the basketball star who seems untouchable to so many chose you. And just maybe she sees you as untouchable too.
The door opens before you can knock, revealing her father with an easy smile that mirrors Paige’s, and you relax—just a little. He greets you warmly, and you can’t help but notice the pride in his eyes when he introduces you to the rest of the family. Paige lingered, and it was a good feeling in one way.
There’s a moment where you’re being passed around like a prized artifact, a flurry of names and faces that blur together as you turn every corner with Paige. Maybe it was the way her dad’s side of the family welcomed you with open arms, or the way Paige kept you close, her hand on the small of your back or intertwined with yours, always making sure you were comfortable. Or maybe it was the seltzers—crisp, cold, and just the right amount of boozy—that had helped you loosen up.
“This is my girlfriend.”
It’s the first time she’s introduced you that way today, and the words hang in the air between you… a good feeling. The Bueckers family seems to take it in stride, with warm smiles and a few teasing remarks, but all you can focus on is the way it ignites something in you—a mix of something good and a sudden, overwhelming desire to make sure everyone knows just how mutual this feeling is.
Paige had introduced you to what felt like every relative under the sun, but now, a few drinks in, you were both in that sweet spot where the drink had taken the edge off, and everything felt a little lighter, a little more fun.
She pulls you away from the crowd, leading you hurriedly around a few corners and to her room. The sounds of the celebration are muted, and you begin to let out a fit of giggles. You weren’t even entirely sure what was funny, but Paige made you feel giddy.
“Why are we in here?” you asked, turning around to face the door she had previously shut. Despite this, the blonde pulled you into her, the both of you now chest to chest as she peppered kisses down your neck.
“There’s a meetin—meeting in my bedroom. You ain’t hear?”
You sighed out, reeling it all in before you realized that you had her entire family to accompany, and she wanted to meet with you. “P!” you whined, attempting to wiggle out of her grasp and failing miserably.
Paige’s smirk widened, and she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours. “What do they say? Save a horse, ride a cowgirl?”
You felt a rush of heat flood through you at her words, your body responding to the suggestive tone in her voice. Before you could fully process what she’d said, Paige was leading you both to the bed, herself falling before you as she held onto the tips of your fingers. “C’mon,” she mumbled, and it somehow sounded so sinful.
You took a moment to just look at her, her bright eyes darkened with desire, her lips parted slightly as she watched you with a hungry intensity that made your knees weak. “Only ‘cause you make one hell of a cowgirl,” you retorted, only half-serious.
Paige smiled, prepared to drag you down next to her before you stopped her. You smirked a little, your fingers trailing to the elastic of the cowboy hat she was still hearing. You pulled it until it snapped against her chin, the movement dirty and teasing and all a tipsy Paige could ever want.
She let out a low chuckle. “Careful,” was all she said.
You raised an eyebrow, your smirk widening as you reached up to take the hat off of her, placing it on your own head. The light weight of it settled over your hair, and you tilted it down over one eye, giving Paige your best attempt at a sultry look. “Or what?” you shot back, your voice a little breathless with anticipation.
Paige’s gaze swept over you, her series of different smiles turning into something curious and willing. She leaned back, all the pressure in the palms of her hands as her tongue swarmed her mouth in amusement. She nodded her head, as if she were challenging you so you could see what would happen.
Sure, it was a relatively bad idea in the moment with Paige’s family roaming in the same exact house, and you had really planned on saying no, but— well…
You took a step back, feeling a rush of everything nice as you put some distance between you and the bed. Paige’s eyes followed your every movement, her hands curling into the comforter as she watched you. You reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head and letting it drop to the floor, the air cool against your heated skin.
You could hear Paige’s breath hitch, her eyes glued to you as you turned around, giving her a teasing view of your back as you unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms and letting the garment fall away. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way her jaw tightened and her lips parted just enough.
With a giggle, you wiggled your hips, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs in one smooth motion before stepping out of them. You gave your ass a little shake, sliding your pointer finger into your mouth as if it were a lollipop. If there was one thing you’d caught onto while being with Paige, it was that she loved when you were completely naked. You didn’t miss the way her hands tightened against the bed, her knuckles white as she held herself back from reaching out for you.
Her eyes raked over your body, a hunger evident in her gaze that made your pulse quicken. You couldn’t help but smile, a wicked glint in your eyes as you took in the sight of her, lying there with her abs tensing beneath her shirt, her breaths coming a little faster as she watched you.
“Paige, baby…” you purred, your voice low and teasing as you crawled onto the bed, making sure to brush your body against hers as you moved. Her breath got caught in her throat, and you could see the way she fought to maintain control. Just give in.
Without another word, you settled between her legs, your hands trailing up her thighs as you pressed a soft kiss to her inner knee. Paige’s muscles twitched under your touch, her lips parting as she let out a breathy moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to keep herself together.
You weren’t about to let that happen.
Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to her core, teasing her through the thin fabric of her shorts. Paige’s hips jerked at the sensation, her hands fisting in the sheets as she let out a low, desperate sound that sent a thrill through you.
“Fuck, stop teasing,” Paige mumbled, her voice rough as she lifted her hips, urging you to take things further.
You smiled against her, enjoying the way she was starting to unravel beneath you. Slowly, you tugged her shorts down, your fingers brushing against her heated skin as you bared her to your gaze. You could feel the tension in her body, and it wasn’t the type of tension you’d get from a basketball practice.
Paige let out a shaky breath, her hands clutching the sheets as she waited for you to make your move. And when you finally did, pressing your tongue against her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke, her response was immediate and intense.
“Oh, fuck,” Paige gasped, her hips bucking up into your mouth as you lavished attention on her, your tongue moving in slow, teasing circles that had her panting for breath. You could feel the way her thighs quivered on either side of your head, her body reacting to every little movement, every flick of your tongue.
You didn’t let up, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady as you increased the pace, your mouth working her over with a skill that had her moaning your name, her voice raw and desperate. The taste of her on your tongue was intoxicating, the sounds she made even more so, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the sensation, your own arousal building as you felt her getting closer and closer to the edge.
Paige’s hands flew to your hair, it being a bit messy from the hat that had now hung around your neck, her fingers tangling in the strands as she held you to her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the brink of release. “Right there,” she panted, her voice strained as she fought to keep herself together, her body trembling with the effort. “Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.”
It didn’t take long. With a final, desperate cry, Paige shattered, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her, her hips bucking as she rode out the overwhelming sense of pleasure. You stayed with her through it all, your mouth never leaving her as you drew out every last bit of her release, savoring the way she fell apart beneath you.
As Paige’s body slowly relaxed, she took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was still uneven. You watched her with a satisfied smile, your own breathing a little ragged as you leaned on one arm, taking in the sight of her in her post-orgasmic bliss.
But Paige wasn’t done with you yet. She never was, and she would never let you win.
With a determined look, she slowly lifted herself up, and you watched, your breath catching in your throat as her fingers moved to the hem of her shirt. She paused for a moment, her eyes locking with yours over her shoulder before she slowly, deliberately peeled the fabric off her body, revealing the toned expanse of her back, and you knew you’d be a puddle if you would’ve saw her torso first.
Her muscles flexed and rippled beneath her skin as she discarded the shirt, and your mouth went absolutely dry. Paige’s back muscles were a sight to behold, the definition in her shoulders and the way her arms looked so strong and capable left you more wet than you’d like to admit. You couldn’t resist reaching out, your fingers brushing over the hard lines of her biceps, head slightly tilted as you admired in fake innocence. This was everything but.
Paige chuckled, and you felt the vibration underneath your fingertips as they dropped back to your side in one swift motion, the blonde now laid back in front of you. She took in your slightly dazed expression, and it only made her want you closer to her. On her.
“Get your ass up here,” Paige growled, her voice low and commanding, and you didn’t need to be told twice.
Scrambling to straddle her, you positioned yourself over her abs, your body tingling as you felt the firmness of her muscles beneath you. The friction was almost too much, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you slowly began to grind against her, your movements fueled by the heat of the moment.
Paige’s hands roamed over your body, her eyes never leaving your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure. The hat on your head had been trying to escape, and Paige reached up, adjusting it with a grin before letting one of her hands return to your waist, speeding up your movements, and the other to your clit—doing as much damage as possible.
The blonde was practically drooling as she watched her two fingers slide between your folds, not missing the quaint squelching noise it made. “Pussy so good, baby. I swear.”
You were a whining mess, the sound being your only verbal response to Paige’s words. Your hand reached for the gold chain round her neck, the jewelry being previously tucked as your fingers tugged onto it in true cowgirl style.
Her words sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you as you rode her abs, the sensation something you’ve never felt before. You had started to feel immense heat underneath Paige’s touch, and it was driving you closer and closer to the edge. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you completely lost control.
Paige could sense it too. She leaned up slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Go ahead. Let me see how fucking good you look when you lose it.”
You screwed your eyes shut, letting out a long and hoarse cry that Paige was quick to shut down, her guiding hand now used as a cover for your mouth. Your hips continued to buck as she pulled her fingers away. You looked down at the way they glistened, eyebrows furrowed as she brought them to her mouth.
And of course, the most Paige thing to do was to turn you on even more as her tongue went to town on her own fingers, licking every bit of you off of them. You were close to demanding her to eat you out next, but the two of you didn’t have any time for that.
You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was sloppy and filthy, your tongues dancing in a heated rhythm. The kiss was a passionate mess, filled with the raw need that you both felt. But then, the distant sound of fireworks caught your attention, breaking through the personal sex bubble you’d built.
You gasped, your eyes widening as you pulled away from her. “Paige, we’re missing the fireworks!”
Paige’s face mirrored your shock as she looked toward the window. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, her expression one of sudden realization. Both of you scrambled to get dressed, tossing garments back and forth in a frantic attempt to look presentable. Paige’s bun was a far cry from its original neatness, and your cowboy hat had slipped off for the third time that night.
Finally, you managed to make your way out of the bedroom and finally outside where Paige’s dad, Bob, and a few other family members, including Drew, Paige’s little brother, were gathered. They were all watching the fireworks display their attention momentarily diverted by the spectacle.
One of them, with a sly smile, glanced at you and Paige as you entered. “Where’d you two run off to?”
Paige’s retort was quick, a playful smirk on her lips as she answered, “Promise land.” It was clearly a joke, but the way they scrutinized the two of you, taking in your disheveled appearance—messy hair, wrinkled clothing, and the cowboy hat that still refused to stay on your head—left little to the imagination. There wasn’t much point in hiding it anymore.
As you both took your places in some lawn chairs to watch the fireworks, Paige stepped in front of you for a brief moment. She reached down, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear with a tender touch. Her voice was soft, almost serious, as she mumbled, “You know, I think I like roleplay.”
You gasped, your eyes wide with disbelief. “P, that is so not what that was!”
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coldfanbou · 3 months
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Stepmom's Uniform
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Naughty Step Mom Nayeon tries to please her stepson in this fic. A little rough sex and stepcest that Nayeon just can't resist.
Length 2.1K
Nayeon X Mreader
Your relationship with your stepmom was odd, to say the least. With your father having to spend so many late nights at the office and barely being able to spend a couple of hours at home each day, you were left alone with your stepmother, Nayeon. It was only natural that you got closer to her over the months. Sleeping with her was something else, though. Usually, during the day, you spend time with her outdoors. Today, you were strolling through the city with Nayeon; you passed by your old high school. She points to it, “I remember when I had to wear a school uniform. I looked so nerdy back then. Maybe I’ll wear it for you one day.” You continue your walk, stopping at a nearby cafe to sit down. You and Nayeon chat for some time before you change the topic.
You bring the topic back to the school uniform, “Do you still have your old school uniform?” 
Nayeon looks at you, a little surprised you brought that up. She fixes her hair behind her ears and nods, “Yeah, if you really want to, I could wear it for you.” She gives you a nervous smile. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to.”
You place your hand over hers. “I want to see you in it.” You run your fingers up Nayeon’s arms and get closer to her. “I could be your teacher, and you’re my submissive little student.” Nayeon felt chills run down her spine. Her smile grew more prominent, and she nodded. The idea excited her, and she imagined herself being taken by you. The two of you quickly got up and walked back home, discussing the idea. You got home, and Nayeon instantly rushed to her and your father’s bedroom. She searched for her old uniform, knowing she kept it in a suitcase filled with old clothes. She looked through it all, finding her old uniform at the bottom of the suitcase. She headed to the connecting bathroom, stripping out of her clothes and underwear. She wore the uniform, staring in the mirror as she lifted her skirt. The lack of panties turned her on. Nayeon also knew you’d be able to tell once she sat on your lap. She left the bathroom, grabbed her glasses to complete the look, and returned to the living room. 
“Wow, you look amazing.” You tell her, grabbing her waist and pulling her in close. “You’re so cute.”
“Stop it. Do I really?” Nayeon asks, her cheeks turning red. 
“Yeah, it’s pretty hot too.” You kiss Nayeon’s neck before whispering, “You know, considering I know what your body looks like under it.”
Nayeon wraps her arms loosely around your neck, “You’re such a bad boy, getting off on your step-mom wearing her old uniform.”
“You’re a bad step-mom, tempting me with it.” You say as you move your hands lower and grab her ass, noticing the lack of panties. “Oh, you’re so bad, Mommy,” Nayeon smirks at you and inches forward, pressing her lips against yours. You move your hands a little lower and lift Nayeon; you press her against the walls, snaking your tongue into her mouth. Nayeon moans into the kiss as she feels your bulge rub against her slit. 
“You’re so hard, baby.”
“Hard for you, Mommy.” You reply, knowing that was what got her off. The taboo of fucking her stepson was her turn-on. After the first time, she struggled to keep her hands off you, and every time you called her mommy, it only fueled her lust. Nayeon held your head in her hands as she continued the kiss, your tongues rubbing against each other until you ran out of breath. “You’re a naughty student and a naughty mommy.” You whisper into her ear before leaving a trail of kisses along her neck. “I want you to suck me off.”
“Of course, baby. Just put me down.” Nayeon said in her sultry voice. You lower Nayeon, letting her get onto her feet and watching as she kneels before you. Her eyes follow yours as she expertly unbuckles your belt and gets your pants out of the way. Nayeon grabs your cock, freeing it from its confines, and runs her tongue around her lips. She stroked the base of your cock slowly, continuing to look at you as she moved closer and pressed her lips against the tip of your cock. She traced her lips with it slowly, “You taste so good, baby.” Nayeon says as she kisses the tip again. 
Her teasing turns you on, and you see the lust in her eyes. Placing your hand on her head, Nayeon knows you want more from her. “Slow down, baby. Let Mommy take care of you at her own pace.” She smiles at you, knowing you won’t refuse. Your stepmother sticks her tongue out, running it along the underside. The lewd act, combined with her nerdy appearance, adds to the experience. Your cock twitches from excitement in her hands, making her giggle. “You’re so needy, baby.” 
“For you, Mommy.” 
“I’ll make sure you get to let out everything you have,” Nayeon says, stroking your shaft a little faster. She runs her tongue along the tip, swirling around it before finally swallowing the head. You groan from the feeling of her warm wet mouth finally taking in your cock. Nayeon feels happy with herself after hearing that and bobs her head slowly, making sure her tongue rubs against every part of your head. She snakes a hand under her skirt, rubbing herself and moaning in the blowjob. Nayeon lets out a short laugh as she pops you out of her mouth, “Do you like Mommy’s mouth? I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”
You place your hand on Nayeon’s head and force your cock back into her mouth, “Yes, Mommy. You’re a lot better now.” You groan, feeling her tongue move side to side along your cock. You reach down, groping her modest chest through her shirt and making Nayeon moan more. 
Nayeon pulls you out of her mouth with a pop, “I want you, baby,” She moans. Nayeon rises to her feet, stroking your cock and turning around. She spreads her legs and bends over slightly, shaking her ass as she waits for you. You flip her skirt and rub your cock against her folds, groaning as you feel how wet she is. “Mmm, that feels good, but I want more baby. Come fuck my tight little pussy.” Nayeon moans, pressing her ass against you. You hold her waist with one hand and press the tip against her entrance, pushing it in. You hear Nayeon gasp as you begin to split her in two. You feel the tightness of her stretched cunt as you push further in. 
Nayeon bites her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as she holds back her moan. “You’re so big, baby.” She groans, feeling you slide deeper into her. You hold Nayeon’s waist tightly and slam the rest of your length inside. She lets her voice fill the room, screaming as you hit her cervix. “Oh god, baby, fuck me.” She moans, looking at the floor as you begin thrusting. Nayeon can feel your cock sliding in and out of her stretching her cunt as you move deeper. 
“I bet you were a naughty girl in school, weren’t you?”
“Don’t say that,” Nayeon grunted in response.
“Were you the school slut?” You ask her, almost immediately feeling her tighten around you. “I think your body is answering for you.”
“I wasn’t,” she whines, struggling as your cock moves inside her. “I’m just your slut.” She moans, leaning her body back against you. You push Nayeon forward, having her between the wall and you. You snake your hands between her and the wall, rubbing her clit with your fingers, moving in small circles. “Ahh! I’m your slut, baby. Don’t stop,” Nayeon cried out. She stood on her toes, her pussy being shaped into the form of your cock. 
“Did you have sex in school? You ask her as you continue thrusting; you hear her whimper something and repeat your question. She says something quietly. Not satisfied with how she answered, you grabbed Nayeon’s arms and pushed her onto the couch, laying her on her back. You fold Nayeon in half, her legs by her head, and ram your cock deep into her cunt before asking one more time. 
“YES!” Nayeon screams as she feels you smash into her cervix. “I DID!” Nayeon continues. She grabs your shirt, tugging on it as you thrust. “They weren’t as good as you, baby. Keeping fucking your mother.” Nayeon pleads, feeling her orgasm coming. “I’m gonna cum,” She whines, her grip on your shirt becoming stronger. You were far off your orgasm and continued thrusting; you cum together. Nayeon throws her head back as she feels your cum rush into her, filling her cunt. You keep yourself buried inside, letting Nayeon’s walls milk you before slowly pulling out. 
You stand beside Nayeon, staring at the blissful expression on her face. You lean down, kissing Nayeon passionately. “I bet Mommy was the school’s fleshlight.” You whisper into her ear. 
“I’m only yours, baby.” She groans, “Mommy wants more; carry me to the bedroom.” You pick Nayeon up, carry her to her bedroom, and lay her down. Nayeon tosses her glasses on the bed. She grabs the hem of her vest and pulls it over herself, following that with her button-up shirt. Nayeon was left in her skirt and a tie. You remove the rest of your clothes and pull Nayeon’s tie, getting her close enough for a kiss. Nayeon wraps her arms around you, “This time, I want you to cum on my face.” You smile at her and spread her legs, watching as your cum from the earlier runs between her legs.
You align yourself with Nayeon’s entrance and ram your length inside, sliding in with ease, “I’ll take a picture, another one for the collection.” Nayeon arches her back and moans as you stuff her cunt again. You hold her sides as you begin thrusting; moving through her, you notice a bulge where your cock is. “Mommy, take a look at what I’m doing to you.”
Nayeon looks down, seeing your cock make a visible bulge. She smiles. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it, but it turned her on every time. Nayeon kisses you again, “Mommy’s pussy is made just for you, baby.” She moans, smiling as you fuck her roughly. 
“Mommy’s all mine.” You moan as you cup one of her tits, squeezing it. 
“That’s right, Mommy’s all yours. No one, not even your dad, can touch me.” She groans, shutting her eyes as she enjoys herself. You feel her walls tighten around you slowly and begin thrusting quicker. Her walls barely have time to come together when you rip through her again. Nayeon grips the bedsheets, feeling her second orgasm coming. “You’re going to make me cum again. Remember to pull out; mommy wants you to paint her face.” 
“Of course, Mommy.” You moan, thrusting into her. Every thrust brings you both closer to your climax. You reach down, flicking Nayeon’s clit and making her cum first. You feel her walls clamp down on your cock, trying to milk you for more of your baby batter. You continued thrusting until you were on the edge of cumming. You pull out and quickly move beside Nayeon. She grabs her glasses, puts them back on, and opens her mouth as she waits for your cum. You jerk yourself off quickly, your cum spurts on her face, coating her glasses with a few drops landing on her tongue. You move down, letting the last bit paint her chest. You slow down your strokes and take a look at how you did. 
Nayeon smiles at you, satisfied with the facial. “Take a picture of your school slut, baby.” You grab your phone and snap a few pictures of Nayeon, adding them to the collection you kept. You lay down beside Nayeon; she reaches for your cock, stroking it gently as you look through the photos you have. You look through them all, each one from a time you had sex with Nayeon. Eventually, you reach the first picture, “Aww, look at me. That was the day you made me yours.” Nayeon glances at you, “You know, baby, your father put cameras in here.”
“I know; I helped set them up.” You respond. “He doesn’t know how to access them, though. So, for now, they’re our little sex tape. We can watch them whenever you want.”
“You naughty boy,” Nayeon says, squeezing your cock.  She rolls onto you, straddling you. “Next time, we’ll do our roleplay. I’ll be the naughty teacher’s pet, and you’ll be my teacher. That will be a great video.”
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fum1ku · 4 months
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TOXIC TRAITS - HQ BOYS
ft. kiyoomi sakusa, koushi sugawara, atsumu miya, daichi sawamura, tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima
tw: toxic relationship, arguments, cursing
pt. 2 where everyone kisses and makes out makes up, anyone?
KIYOOMI: silent treatment. perhaps kiyoomi’s fight or flight reaction stemmed from his inability to communicate well. but, that didn’t feel completely true. he could be blunt; honestly saying what was on his mind to anyone. but, when it came to you, he was just.. silent. you’d beg and plead, scream or shout, say anything and you wouldn’t hear a word back from him. it hurt. it tore deep into your chest; finding itself a resting spot in the pit of your stomach. would someone who truly loved you really do this to you?
KOUSHI: love bombing. sugawara really didn’t mean to. he didn’t know how much he’d ever smothered you until he heard someone actually say something about it. at first you thought it was just sweet, random acts of kindness from him. his love language shining through, at most. the expensive gifts, the rush of compliments he’d give you, the aching feeling of his arms wrapping around you for the 5th time in that moment. but, no—it was more than that. all of it was meaningless; hallow. not a second thought put into it besides his desperation to win you. to have you. he was so desperate to not let you slip away that he forgot what he had ever felt for you in the first place: love.
ATSUMU: toxic jealousy. atsumu miya had been popular with girls since high school. and of course it didn’t stop when he joined the msby jackals. if anything, he had been more popular with women now than he had been in his entire life. but, he always said it didn’t matter. he always told you “you’re all i need. no stupid fan girls can get in the way of that. i have you, and that’s all i want.” all he wants. but that all fades away after your first actual fight. who even remembers what it was about? it didn’t matter anymore. sitting in the bleachers watching your boyfriend prepare for his next match, you could see as a swarm of overzealous girls came running towards him. instead of his usual wave of acknowledgment and turning away to head for a more private area, he dove deep into the attention. he soaked up each compliment from every girl in the crowd with a sly smirk on his face. he accepted every picture he was asked to take; putting his hand around her waist, letting her kiss his cheek or feel his stupid muscles through his jersey. he did all of this knowing you had been there waiting; watching. he did all of this, not feeling a single bit of remorse up till the second he watched as hot tears streamed down your face and you ran out of the arena. shit. he had really fucked up.
DAICHI: overprotective. it was sweet daichi cared. really, it was. he’d place a firm hand around your waist when walking past guys in the street because he knew it made you feel safe. he’d have you sit a few rows back in the bleachers when watching his games “just in case”. and he’d always make sure you made it home safe after work or school. but, it soon turned into more than just those silly protective things. sometimes he made you feel like you couldn’t think or plainly act for yourself. everything had a risk to him; a risk that wasn’t worth taking with you. you tried to reason with him, but it never made sense to him in the way it did to you. he just wanted you to be safe after all, right?
TOBIO: anger issues. tobio didn’t mean to snap. it just.. well, happened. he loved you—he loves you— so much. he never wanted to see you cry; he never wanted to be the reason why you cried. but it had been a long day. practice had left him dead and dry. it had been back-to-back interviews, multiple photoshoots, and so many fucking autographs. today had taken everything out of him. as shallow as all of those things sounded, it was.. overstimulating, to say the least. kageyama couldn’t think of a better word to describe it; to name exactly what he felt. but when he came home and saw you in the kitchen; dishes stacked high, the pot on the stove bubbling over, the heat that overtook every single room in the apartment—he snapped. he lost it. you had opened your mouth to greet him and before you were able to say anything, all of the frustrations from today started pouring out of his mouth.
“fucking damnit. what the hell are you even doing, y/n? it’s a thousand fucking degrees in here with the stove on and it’s boiling over. fucking shit. i’m exhausted and i can’t even come home to have some damn peace in my own fucking house. what the actual hell?” his words burned through his throat, leaving a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.
you said nothing as you turned the stove off, and walked straight past him.
“y/n—” he stuttered. “i’m—fuck— i’m so sorry. today was rough and i just..”
he looked down at you to see your body shaking; tears streaming down your face. he fucked up.
KEI: lack of communication. that best summed up kei’s entire life. including his life with you. one small argument and he was gone. vanished. nowhere to be found. not until you’d find him in some tucked away corner of your shared apartment. or outside the building during the evening. you could try your best to say something to him—anything—but it didn’t matter. he’d only talk to you on his own terms. but, what he was thinking? what he was feeling? that was a mystery to you. you could pour your heart out to him about how lost you felt; how much of a mystery his emotions were to you even after being together for so long. didn’t matter. he couldn’t piece together a string of words to give back to you. and that was going to be his downfall.
© fum1ku 2024.
⁂ taglist: none at the moment ! let me know if you wanted to be tagged for anything<3 my requests are always open too !!
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luveline · 4 months
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Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤
thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k
“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 
Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 
He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 
“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 
He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 
“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 
“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 
“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 
You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 
“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 
He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 
He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 
It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 
He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 
He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 
Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 
In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 
Today, right now, that’s crackers. 
“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 
“I’m back,” she agrees. 
“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 
“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 
Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 
He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 
“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 
Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 
He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 
“I’m just changing!” 
“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 
You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 
“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 
She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 
“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 
“Yes please, daddy.” 
Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  
“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 
“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 
“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 
Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 
“Yes, please,” Sarah says.
You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 
He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 
“Thanks, daddy.” 
You breathe in. 
Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 
“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 
Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 
“She did.” 
“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 
“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.
“She just loves you,” you say. 
“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 
You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 
“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 
You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 
He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 
Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 
“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 
“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 
Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 
He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 
“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 
“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 
“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 
“Big changes.” 
He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 
Your shoulders finally relax. 
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hoshigray · 6 months
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I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.
69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro
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hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k
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“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”
“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.” 
“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”
Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed. 
It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with. 
“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”
The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.
You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention. 
The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts. 
Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”
You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”
You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—
“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.” 
For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath. 
“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?” 
“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads. 
“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?” 
He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.
“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”
“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”
Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.” 
Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.” 
You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”
“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”
A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”
And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test. 
So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on. 
It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”
You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself. 
And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly. 
It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”
He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris. 
“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”
And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him. 
Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…
But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”
He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“
A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.” 
You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.
But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.
You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.
Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”
The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids. 
With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”
He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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