#I’m serious op are you here
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kiirotoao · 3 months ago
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I just remembered someone coming up with the idea that Mike and Will bring back the handshake swear/promise by making a deal - y’know, shaking on it - and then Mike pulls Will in for a kiss, and if that’s you, what do you charge?
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brairslair · 5 months ago
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just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33
EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)
a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻
don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah
“of course i’m serious”
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luffy:
in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew
at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy
however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew
after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice
he seems to have that effect on people
while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different
within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life
the two of you never have a dull moment together
while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded
and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break
eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time
you balance each other out perfectly
the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company
definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience
you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off
over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more
you notice the shift far before luffy does
luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh
he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off
probably assumes he’s just hungry…
in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything
you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now
the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable
(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)
he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy
he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings
to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff
nothing is awkward when you start dating
it just feels right
he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating
now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling
sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you
definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself
he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together
he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh
he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him
will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute
he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you
he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you
you definitely have to teach him a lot
like what you’d like to do on dates
and how to kiss
luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try
after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough
definitely understands now
a super messy kisser (ofc)
gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses
he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you
you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you
sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown
he didn’t realize it would be so fun
it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires
he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything
kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it
never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident
loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around
he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything
even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock
other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends
the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company
luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him
he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach
you are each other’s safe space
the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday
saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now
will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself
if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard
the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like
“hey, do you wanna get married?”
probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!
obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out
the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them
after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit
not much changes in your relationship other than your titles
he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something
but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever
zoro:
when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying
the two of you clash almost immediately
after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse
the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons
nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you
for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other
however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks
his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty
it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place
over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it
you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”
or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time
eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship
the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while
but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes
and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence
and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear
he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him
without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship
whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way
the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you
neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp
when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have
but you don’t need to
your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will
your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer
running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc
eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers
you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered
your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter
as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home
there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are
like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates
robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep
eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder
zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands
still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship
he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking
like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room
he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you
the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see
however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone
it’s much more domestic
quieter
you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words
the silence is soothing
other times, the two of you can talk for hours
he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to
and he’ll hang onto every word
he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private
he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session
or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair
he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas
he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly
sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you
either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action
his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you
in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate
neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably
you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart
when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle
zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook
he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at
the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other
if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you
but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)
“why don’t we get married then?”
“are you serious?”
“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”
the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning
the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers
sanji:
as we all know, sanji is a lover of women
he’s also a hopeless romantic
from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels
he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life
while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first
you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?
and it first, it’s really not that much different
he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation
but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more
you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond
you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes
you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free
sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you
like for real
the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before
but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way
he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on
you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic
you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it
he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently
compliments you up and down, every word sincere
he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking
never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you
sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women
however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure
he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible
he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom
gentle and passionate
sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic
he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you
he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist
after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew
sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops
he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot
loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at
loves hugs and cuddles obviously
always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman
also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all
still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day
your relationship is very flirty in general
he can dish it out way better than he can take it
he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine
even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right
the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next
sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating
and he means it 100% too
he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings
sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day
as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you
he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere
and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry
he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter
oops!
the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything
sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding
his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw
cries when he sees you walking down the aisle
he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time
usopp:
you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew
you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories
he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime
and of course you help him craft his weapons
the two of you are basically inseperable
you do absolutely everything together
you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them
you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on
you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make
you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes
but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests
you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other
everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all
the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”
he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory
you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows
completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you
nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less
the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved
he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous
you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess
most of the time you do it by accident
he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him
you take your relationship fairly slow
he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand
he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you
the first time you kissed him he almost passed out
he cannot believe you actually want to be with him
once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time
your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips
his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft
the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so
usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace
when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn
talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead
loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend
he’s just so proud to be with you
literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever
you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that
you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what
if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy
because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise
not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before
it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal
takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand
gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes
you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife
chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl
brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories
no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old
law:
you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation
you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life
you owed you’re life to him
so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary
you stayed anyways of course
your relationship started out strictly professional
he was the captain, and you were the crewmate
you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it
over time, you grew closer
you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company
eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking
you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought
after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated
you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves
you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all
he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish
they don’t vanish
instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you
meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably
the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew
you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid
eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you
his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words
your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months
if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss
he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner
gets really affectionate when he’s tired
he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best
law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing
he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp
sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood
loves having his hands all over you whenever he can
also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly
doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you
he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that
instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear
when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it
he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets
while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things
you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast
and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew
your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife
he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy
if you want to get married, that’s what will happen
the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should
there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you
after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches
it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out
he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you
ace:
very flirty with you from the very beginning
compliments you all the time
thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it
the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”
pisses everyone else off
you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern
so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you
the solution? set you up, obviously
some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together
setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone
pairing you up on chores and tasks
they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour
it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack
ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever
he fell first, you fell harder type shit
huge dork
can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way
but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary
never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day
loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!
literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together
very touchy and just wants to be close to you
despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world
extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much
50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet
he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry
very experienced, and it shows in everything he does
he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you
slutty waist 🗣️🗣️
king of the knee thing
loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours
also pretty open about pda
he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either
your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication
definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile
if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal
he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you
would pick the PRETTIEST ring
he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second
as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes
would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice
possibly making a bet to see who catches on first
once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time
asks are open!
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constellama · 8 months ago
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The Magnus Archives Dashboard Simulator
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🕷️ arachnophobia-incarnate Follow
Oh my god oomfies you’ll never believe what I just found
1,937,328 notes
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📚 jonathan-sims Follow
HELP THERES A DOG ON MY DESK???
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🫖 poet-tea Follow
HELP I JUST LET MY DOG INTO MY BOSS’S OFFICE??
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
LITERALLY WHO ARE YOU
🛶 timtimothy Follow
LMAOOOOO
176 notes
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🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
I think there’s a wasp’s nest in my attic. I’m gonna go check it out.
🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
Do you hear that
🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
This is kind of a bop actually
☕️ ihavenohotcocoa Follow
op? op are you ok
2,332 notes
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🎭 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
going on a date tomorrow! 😀
🛶 timtimothy Follow
haha what.
🛶 timtimothy Follow
can you repeat that op
🛶 timtimothy Follow
op?
🛶 timtimothy Follow
op can you repeat that
57 notes
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👁️ bouchard-elias Follow
I love my job. Everything just goes according to plan exactly how I want it to.
📖 bookluvr Follow
Hi
👁️ bouchard-elias Follow
hey sorry for this but you wouldn’t happen to have seen a lead pipe lying around would you?
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🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow
does anyone have any skin? For no reason whatsoever of course. Like if you just have it lying around. Out of use.
🌀 funhousemirrorman Follow
why do you need skin
🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow
wouldn’t you like to know, door boy
101 notes
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🐺 detective-daisy Follow
is there wifi down here
⚰️ wakelyupwhenimdead Follow
no
🐺 detective-daisy Follow
HELLO?? HELLO CAN YOU HEAR ME??
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
I CAN! I CAN HEAR YOU
🐺 detective-daisy Follow
Oh. You.
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
What. What does that mean
132 notes
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👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
I can sense a promotion coming soon I’m so excited !!!
👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
are you SERIOUS
🛶 timtimothy Follow
I’m going to kill that old man with my bare hands HOW DARE HE DO THIS TO YOU QUEEN
162 notes
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👤 averagescarehater Follow
WHYYY IS THE SKY LOOKING AT MEEEE
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
my bad
200 notes
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stealingyourbones · 6 days ago
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Fic prompt, Young Justice era:
Robin(Tim) and Superboy break into the Fenton Ops Center after discovering a faction of the DEO that was created exclusively for dealing with ghosts.
They came across this sub-agency while combing through hacked documents after saving Greta, and found out the Department of Extranormal Operations formed the Ghost Investigation Ward and gets special ghost-hunting weapons from mad scientist inventors in a small Illinois town.
Danny (with his sharper senses) hears the break in and goes to investigate with the Fenton Creep Stick. Robbers get hired on occasion to steal inventions that aren’t patented yet. He hears movement just on the other side of the door and goes in swinging. Hits Superboy in the back and makes him stumble, which causes serious alarm from the two heroes.
“That actually almost hurt!” Superboy says in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the new kid holding a splintered baseball bat.
“You cracked the Creep Stick,” Danny stares at the bat with his mouth open. “I didn’t know it could break.”
“Rob? I think this guy has powers.”
Danny looks up, blinking in shock, “Your name is Rob? And you became a Robber? Dude. You don’t have to define yourself by what your parents named you.”
Superboy tries to hide his laughter while Robin sputters. “I’m not - They didn’t -”
“Oh!” Danny has an epiphany. “Did you name yourself that? I chose my name too, but I’m just Danny. I didn’t go and name myself after an illegal profession. Like, can you imagine if I was an arsonist named Bernie? Or a skeevy car salesman named Otto? I know it’s hard to choose a name when you’re trans, and, I gotta admit, being a robber named Rob is hilarious, but there’s more options out there, I promise. For names and career paths.”
Superboy is wheezing at this point and Robin’s face is near fuchsia. Instead of addressing any of that, Robin gets angry.
“We aren’t robbers! We’re heroes! I’m Robin. that’s Superboy. Your parents sell weapons that hurt people and we’re here to stop that!”
Danny tosses the broken Creep Stick over his shoulder and smiles wide.
“Why didn’t you say so! Oh man, this is great. I’ve been sabotaging their stuff for years. If you’re here to help I’ve got a couple projects you can definitely smash.”
.
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moonstruckme · 6 months ago
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request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other
Thanks for requesting!
cw: hospital, mention of surgery
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words
Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 
It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 
“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 
“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 
“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 
“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.
She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 
“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 
You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”
You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 
Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 
“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 
Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 
Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 
“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 
“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 
“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 
“I am,” he says. 
“But you’re so handsome.”
Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 
You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 
Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 
Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 
You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 
“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 
“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 
“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 
“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 
Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 
“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”
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jamminvroomvroom · 8 months ago
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I absolutely adore your writing,
For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?
sunshine.
op x fem!reader - 4k celebration
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in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…
hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚
songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing
2.9k words
oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.
he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.
the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.
his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.
as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.
“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.
“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.
“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.
“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.
your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.
“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.
“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.
“he dumped me.”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.
“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.
“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.
“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.
“oh. oh.”
“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.
“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.
“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.
“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”
you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.
he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.
you pass out right around chandler’s vows.
-
you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.
you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.
for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?
“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.
oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.
you kiss him.
because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.
his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.
he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.
“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.
“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.
“really?”
“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.
“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.
and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.
“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.
“why?”
“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-
“oh.”
“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”
“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”
“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.
“then you better do something.”
oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.
“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”
“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.
his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.
“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.
“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.
you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.
“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.
“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.
“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.
his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.
you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.
“want all of you, osc.” you plead.
“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.
oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.
he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.
oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.
“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”
you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.
his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.
“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.
“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.
“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.
you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.
it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.
“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.
a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.
“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.
“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.
you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.
“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.
“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.
“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.
he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.
“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.
you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.
“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.
“so bad.” you pant.
“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.
he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.
“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.
“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.
“move.”
oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.
“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.
“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.
“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.
his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.
when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.
his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.
the most beautiful sunshine man.
“hi.” he whispers.
“hi.” you whisper back.
an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.
“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.
“perfect.” you agree.
“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.
“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.
“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.
when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.
“thank god you broke in.”
-
oh i’m soft
-
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portgasdwrld · 1 year ago
Text
📂 Op men + them being jealous
part 1
Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)
Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others
Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻‍💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭
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Luffy
The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.
On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.
But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.
The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.
Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.
-This would look so pretty on your hair!
He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.
-You look perfect!
He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.
Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.
-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~
You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.
-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!
-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.
He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~
Zoro
It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.
Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.
The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.
You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.
-Wassup with you?
-I cant kiss you or what?
-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.
-You always complain
He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)
You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.
-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining
You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.
-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.
Sanji
Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.
He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.
It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.
Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.
-What do we think?
He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.
-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?
You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.
"...should I get into jewelries.."
It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-
-Chérie, have you find something you liked?
He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.
-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?
Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.
-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.
You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..
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maxlarens · 4 months ago
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OP: i can’t complain but i will
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pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri
word count: 2.4k+
an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!
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I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out
Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.
It’s fine.
Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.
His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—
No one’s cheering for Oscar—
Tom is on the radio.
Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.
Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.
Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.
A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.
He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.
He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—
Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.
He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.
And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.
Fuck.
So Oscar grins and he bears it.
He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—
That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…
He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.
Oscar gets it more than anyone.
II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay
Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.
It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.
He’s trying to be okay.
He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.
And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.
It’s making him crazy.
He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.
You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.
Fuck, and he would—
He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.
Lando frowns, his back to the lens.
Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.
Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—
Speaking of Oscar.
He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.
Because it hurts.
Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.
Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.
Some chained, angry dog on a leash.
Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.
It’s enough.
III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal
You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.
It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.
Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—
Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.
You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.
You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.
It's making your heart ache.
You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.
And it's fucking unfortunate.
But it's them. So it's fine.
You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.
But they're trying.
And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.
So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—
It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.
Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.
"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.
You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.
"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."
"Yeah," you whisper back.
You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.
"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.
You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.
"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.
You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.
Lando clears his throat.
In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.
You laugh, just a little.
Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.
Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.
“Hey,” you smile warmly.
He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.
You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.
“You okay?”, you ask.
Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”
You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”
He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”
“Yeah,” because you get it,
Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—
Speaking of.
Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.
“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”
You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.
Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—
You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.
You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.
Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”
You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—
“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—
and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.
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this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.
ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!
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apollodarling-writes · 1 year ago
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thinking about task force 141 + könig with a gen z! reader.
tws : some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, cursing, ghost has no problem with the reader slapping his ass pls don’t mistake it as being nonconsensual
edit : it’s come to my attention that some of you are confused as to why i made a post like this. this post was made to be satirical and cringey and embarrassing. i am part of gen z and using the terminology that was all the rage in recent years to make something like this. it’s not a serious post. it’s made to appear the way it appears.
reader, walking past soap : youre looking very submissive and breedable today, johnny.
soap, shaking his head and tutting : i am not!
reader : big talk for someone within breeding distance.
ghost, trying to make a cup of coffee :
reader who takes notice of ghost’s ass and slaps it : god damn! i knew you had jiggle physics
ghost, slowly setting down his cup and turning his head : i’m giving you a five second headstart.
reader realizing they fucked up : oh shit.
reader knocking on price’s office door : knock knock! can i enter, captain price?
price, trying to finish his stack of paperwork and knows reader is up to something : …sure
reader : this is a vibe check! what do you think of this?
price, glancing between the picture and reader : … its nice.
reader whose eyes light up : you, my good sir, have officially passed the vibe check and that is why you’re my favorite captain.
price, exasperated : im your only captain.
ghost talking to soap : johnny, you ever feel… lost?
reader suddenly appearing with stress balls and plushies : here, these help me! this weighted stuffed animal hits different, so i recommend it personally.
ghost :
soap : where the hell did you even come from??
reader posing for a picture with the team before a mission : and everybody say “in our special ops era”!
the team, sullenly : in our special ops era…
reader : damn guys, this lighting is doing wonders for our dark circles.
könig trying to carve something for reader: hmm.. this side looks a little bit off…
reader bounding over to könig : heyy babygirl!
könig scrambling to hide it : scheiße, i thought they were busy!
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earthchica · 27 days ago
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Give In
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bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader
summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.
warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)
note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.
-
Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.
However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.
Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.
When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.
However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.
For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.
He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.
“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.
"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.
Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"
“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.
Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.
"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.
"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.
“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.
"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.
As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.
"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.
"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.
As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.
You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.
Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.
The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.
You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.
There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.
You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.
Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.
As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.
With a contented sigh, you sank into it.
Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.
You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.
"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.
"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."
You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.
“Maybe!”
“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.
Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.
“What is it?”
“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."
You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."
"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.
"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely
"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.
He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.
Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.
"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.
"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.
Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.
"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.
“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.
You smirked. “You think so?
“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.
“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.
His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.
“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.
"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.
“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.
"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.
"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.
"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.
You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.
The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.
You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.
Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.
"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."
You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."
He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.
As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.
You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.
“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.
You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.
As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.
You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.
In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.
Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.
Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.
It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.
Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.
A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.
His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.
"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.
Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.
"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.
"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.
"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.
You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.
"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.
You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"
"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.
"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."
He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."
"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.
"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.
After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.
Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.
Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.
"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.
"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.
“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.
You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.
You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.
Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.
“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.
“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.
You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.
Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.
“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.
“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”
“I-i do but…it’s….”
You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.
“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.
The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.
“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.
You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.
Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.
The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.
A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.
He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.
"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.
You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.
Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.
His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.
"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.
You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.
He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."
And indeed he did.
Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.
This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.
"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.
"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.
Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.
"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers. 
A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.
"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.
"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.
"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.
You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.
"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.
Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.
"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.
He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.
You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.
"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.
"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.
"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.
"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.
Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.
You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.
"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.
You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.
You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.
"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.
"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.
"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.
"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.
"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.
"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.
"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.
This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.
Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.
"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.
"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.
The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.
Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.
"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."
You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.
You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.
"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.
He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.
"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.
You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.
"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled
"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.
"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.
"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.
"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.
This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.
Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.
Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.
Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.
You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.
369 notes · View notes
pickingupmymercedes · 17 days ago
Text
Kiss me - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: Kiss me - Cassie
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: smut (it's a cute one though)
wordcount: +4k (got carried away, ops)
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
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“Looking all sweet, but let’s be real, he’s the type to f** Y/n so hard she’s left feeling her cervix as a souvenir of their night.”
His fans had always been in fine form, but after those pics were released from his event? Oh, they were in rare form.
One tweet caught my eye, and I had to bite my lip to keep from cackling out loud. There he was, looking like an angel on earth, his smile all soft and innocent—yet the caption was nothing short of outrageous.
I nearly snorted, and, of course, it got his attention.
“Something funny?” Lewis asked, his gaze shifting over, already curious.
He looked so blissfully unaware of the chaotic energy his fans had just injected into my life. “What’re you reading?”
“Oh, nothing. Just, you know, your fans thirsting” I said, holding my phone up so he could see. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he read, and when he got to the cervix part, that smirk I knew all too well spread across his face.
Great. Here it comes.
“They’re not exactly wrong” he said with that smooth, I’m-definitely-trouble smile. “Didn’t you just say a few days ago that your gyno might get worried one day?”
My eyes practically rolled back. “I cannot believe you’re bringing that up.”
He shrugged, unbothered, stretching his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers grazing my shoulder. “Why? Because it’s true?”
I tried to brush it off, laughing, but I realized his fingers were already on my jaw, gently tilting my face up to his. I gave him a mock-innocent look, like I wasn’t just laughing at his, exceptionally creative fans.
“I’m just saying, they’re funny. Doesn’t mean I actually think it’s accurate.”
“Uh-huh.” He leaned in close, his eyes locked on mine, dark and serious. “You sure about that?”
God, his gaze was enough to make my stomach flip. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of that.
“Well…” I trailed off, clearing my throat as casually as I could manage.
Big mistake. Because in a flash, I saw that competitive spark in his eyes, the one that always meant I was about to lose any game I tried to start with him.
“Oh, is that a challenge?” he asked, voice dropping into that deep, rumbling tone that never failed to get my pulse racing.
“Only if you’re up for it” I shot back, praying he couldn’t tell I was already half a goner from just that look.
He chuckled, low and smooth, and that was all the warning I got before his mouth was on mine, shutting me up mid-sentence. His lips moving with just the right amount of heat that my snarky attitude was gone.
I forgot the stupid tweet, the fans, the whole internet, because now there was only the feeling of his hands on my neck, his chest pressed against mine.
When he finally pulled back, I could barely breathe, and he had the nerve to smirk at me. “Still think they’re exaggerating?” he murmured, his fingers tracing along my jaw.
I wanted to come up with some snappy reply, some sarcastic retort, but I could barely think straight with him this close. All I managed was a slightly shaky, “Maybe a little.”
“Guess I’ll have to remind you thoroughly, then.” He grinned, and before I knew it, he had scooped me up from the couch like I weighed nothing, carrying me down the hall to our bedroom.
One kiss after another, he was laying down a trail of heat I couldn’t even pretend to resist, my hands already tugging at his shirt, which somehow found its way to the floor.
Okay, fine I thought, somewhere in the haze of it all. Maybe the fans do have a point.
I barely had a second to catch my breath before he was on me again. And I mean on me.
I was melting into the bed, feeling the weight of him, the warmth, like every nerve in my body was suddenly awake and waiting. He brushed my hair away from my face, his eyes tracing over me like he was memorizing every detail.
How on earth did I get this lucky?
And, of course, Lewis wasn’t exactly making it easy for any train of thought to be coherent.
He lifted the hem of my shirt slowly, so slowly that I almost wanted to roll my eyes.
Tease. But the moment his lips touched my stomach, any trace of sass in me just evaporated. His kisses were gentle, lazy almost, like he had all the time in the world to just savor me.
“Oh, you’re enjoying yourself,” I managed, the words barely a breath as his mouth moved lower, leaving goosebumps.
He grinned against my skin, and I felt his lips curl into that playful smile that always made my heart flip. “I think you’re enjoying this just as much.”
He was right, of course, but I’d be damned if I admitted it right away. I was still catching up to how he was going to prove the tweet right, but first he was teasing the hell out of me.
He moved up again, his face inches from mine, and my breath hitched when he took his time kissing me like he was reading the most interesting book in the world, page by page.
Each kiss felt like he was imprinting something into my skin, and honestly, it was a little maddening. Here he was, practically worshiping every inch of me with a patience that I could barely handle.
“I thought you liked it rough” I murmured, trying to sound unaffected, which was absolutely pointless given the way my heart was pounding.
“Oh, I do,” he whispered back, his eyes holding mine. “But I love it when I get to take my time with you.”
He was impossibly close now, and his voice went straight to my bones.
I should have had some witty reply ready, some sarcastic little retort that I’d normally throw out just to keep things light. But he wasn’t giving me an inch to think, his fingers tracing a line down my sides, his lips skimming my collarbone, and I was losing more and more the fight to keep myself together.
My head tipped back when his hands made their way to my hips, his grip just firm enough to keep me in place, and his lips found their way to my chest.
You’re taking forever on purpose, aren’t you, Hamilton?
Each kiss, each touch, felt like he was making some kind of unspoken point. He wanted me to know, to feel just how deep this went for him. And God, he knew exactly what he was doing.
By the time his mouth reached my nipple, the last ounce of my composure was long gone. My back arched on instinct, and I was biting back a moan that would have only encouraged him more.
His fingers moved over my curves like he was memorizing the way I fit under his hands, and then he pulled back for a moment, his gaze flicking up to mine, dark and unreadable. “You really think I’m just like switch, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made my breath catch.
All I could manage was a nod that didn’t make sense. My heart was in my throat, and every inch of me was burning under his touch.
He smirked, as if that was all the answer he needed, and then he dipped back down, his mouth reclaiming my skin. “I’ll show you both sides” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss over my heart. “Rough when I want, and sweet when I have the chance. Or both when you let me.”
And I could barely manage to get out a word between breaths. “You’re... infuriating.”
He chuckled against my skin, his breath hot and maddening. “And yet, you’re not telling me to stop.”
His lips found my other nipple, and he took his time, making sure that my head was spinning by the time he came back up, his hand tracing along my waist, each touch making my skin feel like it was on fire.
The world outside this room could have disappeared, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Right now, there was only him— taking his time, making sure I knew I was the only person who’d got to see him like this.
I was far too wrapped up in him, every look and every touch setting me on fire.
And then he slid his hand down my stomach, his palm pressing firmly against my covered pussy, the heat of it sinking through me.
His fingers toyed at the edge of my lace panties, his touch so light it was driving me insane.
“Lew, come on,” I half-groaned, half-laughed, trying to keep some control over the situation—or at least pretending to. His smirk told me he knew exactly how close I was to giving up that control entirely.
“Oh, I’m coming on,” he murmured, his fingers slipping down to cup me through the lace. The heat of his touch was enough to make me arch against him, and I hated that he knew exactly what kind of power he had over me.
That smug grin of his? Absolutely infuriating. And totally deserved.
He gave a soft laugh when my body responded, and I could practically feel his smirk against my neck. “That easy, huh?”
“Shut up and keep going” I said, trying to keep some shred of dignity.
He knew what he was doing, his fingers tracing torturously slow circles, not enough to relieve the ache but more than enough to drive me out of my mind.
“Patience, love,” he whispered, lifting his head to give me that classic, cocky look. “I promised you both.”
If I’d had the ability to roll my eyes, I would have. But instead, I reached up, grabbing his face, desperate for the feel of his lips against mine.
He grinned, then kissed me deeply, one hand still pressed firmly against me, his fingers finally slipping under the edge of the lace, grazing over my skin.
Then his fingers brushed my folds, just barely, and I bit down on his lower lip, unable to stop myself.
He let out a low growl in response, which only made me grin, even as my heart pounded like crazy.
“Impatient, are we?” he teased, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes flashing with that mischief that was already wrecking me.
I let out a breathless chuckle. “Cut the tease…”
He shook his head, amused, his fingers slipping under the lace fully now, and I felt myself buck against him.
Each slow, teasing stroke on my clit was enough to make me nearly forget my own name.
I was so losing this game.
“Soaked already,” he murmured, his voice a delicious mix of satisfaction and amusement.
I would have made a comeback, I swear, but his fingers were tracing over me in a way that was completely short-circuiting my brain. Every time I thought I’d gotten a grip, he found a new spot, a new way to make me squirm.
“Oh, is that a smile?” he asked, catching my expression and leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. “Thought you wanted me to hurry up?”
I rolled my eyes absentmindedly, even though I could barely muster the energy. “Hurry up, slow down, whatever. Just don’t stop.”
He laughed softly, and before I could say another word, he moved down, positioning himself between my legs, his mouth hovering so close I could feel his breath. His fingers traced up and down, building a maddening, delicious tension, and every nerve in me was screaming for him to finally close that distance.
“Lew, please” I managed, breathless and desperate.
He gave me one last teasing grin, holding my gaze as he started, his lips and hands working together to arch me off the bed. And with every nerve in my body alight, I realized there was no witty comeback that could save me now.
I was utterly, completely lost in him.
Dizzy with need, every nerve in my body tuned to him, but Lewis? He was taking his sweet time, equal parts infuriating and intoxicating.
He was enjoying every single second, holding me on this edge that had me biting back moans, trying to keep at least a shred of dignity.
Like that was even possible with him right now.
His hand slid down, curling around the edge of my panties to tug them aside. But of course, he just looked at me, a devilish smirk in place.
“So impatient tonight,” he murmured, brushing his fingers lightly over me, like he hadn’t just spent the last however-many minutes driving me insane. “Isn’t this what you asked for?”
If I had any ounce of wit left in me, it was dissolving fast. “I didn’t think you’d take ‘slow’ this slow” I shot back, my voice breathlessness and sass all mixed into one, making his grin grow wider.
“Maybe I just like seeing you worked up” he said, his thumb pressing firmly against my clit.
The jolt it sent through me was enough to make my legs tense, but he just chuckled, watching the effect he had on me like he was studying art. “I need to live up to the hype, don’t I?”
His teasing was making it so hard to keep any semblance of control.
I reached for him, wrapping my hand around the base of him, only to have him still my wrist, that devilish grin back. “Oh no, love. Tonight, you’re just going to feel me. That’s your only job.”
Somehow, his words alone were making my pulse race. “Alright, Mr. Control Freak.” I managed, half-laughing, half-breathless.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re back to the name-calling?”
Before I could respond, he lined his cock, pressing just enough to make me gasp, his hands gripping my thighs as he held me firmly in place.
He was still smiling as he began, his thrusts slow and measured, like he had all the time in the world and zero plans to speed things up.
I was doing everything I could not to lose it completely, but he was making it hard.
Impossible actually.
Every single, agonizingly slow stroke was designed to drive me out of my mind. And he knew it.
He looked down at me, his gaze intense, but there was that barely-there flicker in his eyes. And I saw it. The effort it was taking him to keep his control.
He was fightingit, I could tell, like he was determined to make a point.
“You good?” he asked, voice soft but full of that teasing edge, his thrusts hitting a spot that made my vision blur.
“Yeah” I managed, my voice little more than a breathless mess. “Totally good.”
Not desperate at all. Nope. Not even a little.
But he was still watching me with that knowing grin, his fingers tightening on my thighs as he slowly picked up the pace, his breaths becoming heavier, more labored.
“You’re squirming,” he pointed out, his voice strained with his own restraint. “Think I’ll be able to keep this pace with you moving like that?”
Even in the middle of the haze, I couldn’t help but give him a smirk. “Keep up, then.”
Bold statement—especially given that he was currently holding every ounce of control over me.
And before I could even blink, he lifted my legs, shifting them up onto his shoulders, and suddenly every single thrust hit exactly where it needed to. A slow, perfect shockwave that had me gasping and clinging to the sheets.
“Like that?” His voice was a low growl, his control slipping as his movements gained just a bit more force, each one slow and all-consuming.
I could barely form a coherent thought, let alone answer as his gaze was fixed on mine. Like he was waiting, daring me to say something else, but every word dissolved before it could even reach my lips.
And just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he finally let go of that tight, controlled pace, his movements still slow but just a little rougher, his hands gripping my waist as he watched every reaction he pulled from me.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice labored. “Let me see you.”
Every nerve in me was on fire and somewhere in the haze, I was sure I could feel my heart racing out of my chest. He leaned down, his mouth capturing mine, and with every kiss it was like he was branding himself into me.
I couldn’t stop the sounds leaving my lips, my breath coming in sharp gasps, and he finally let out a groan, his control slipping just enough that I could feel him speeding up, his breath hot against my skin.
“Lew—” I breathed, my voice breaking, unable to stop myself from moving in time with him, my body fully surrendered to the way he was moving against me.
His name was the only coherent word left in my vocabulary, and when he finally lowered my legs, letting them rest on either side of him, he pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm and steady.
“You feel that?” he whispered, his voice full of intensity, his hand coming up to cup my face as he slowed down just in time to let me ride the waves of my release.
And gosh did I rode that orgasm.
I felt every inch of him, the way he was holding himself steady, giving me that same tender, relentless energy.
As my breath started to steady, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, waiting for me to open my eyes.
And when I did, he was watching me with that same teddy bear smile, soft and proud, like he knew exactly what he’d just done, and like he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the warmth of his gaze wrapping around me. “You good?” he asked, and even though his words were casual, there was something in his eyes that told me he wanted to hear it.
“I think we’ve definitely moved past good.” I echoed, giving him a half-smirk, half-laugh.
I could still feel the remnants of my orgasm pulsing through me, my body soft and spent, but there was something about the way Lewis was still hovering over me, breath shallow, eyes still full of heat, that had me pulling him closer.
The intensity of his earlier movements had me completely lost in him, and now that he was slowing down, I felt that familiar pull to take care of him, to return some of the devotion he'd given me.
His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin as his movements grew slower and more deliberate.
He hadn’t come yet, and I knew it was because he was doing everything in his power to give me space to come down, to keep from being too rough and just savoring this moment.
His body pressed against mine, his hips moving in slow, circular strokes, dragging against me in a way that had me shivering beneath him.
“I’m good Lew, really” I whispered, trying to catch my breath, and he hummed softly in acknowledgment, his lips brushing across mine before he pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice husky with desire but with that hit of concern, as though he was double-checking, even though I could feel how much he was struggling to keep it slow.
“I’m more than good” I said, my voice a little shaky, but my nails running up his back, pulling him even closer to me. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
I could feel him smile, a small, satisfied curve of his lips. His hands cupped my face as he kissed me gently, deepening the kiss as he started to move again, each thrust slow, almost measured, like he was trying to memorize every part of me.
I could feel every inch of him inside me again, the drag of his pelvis against me driving me wilder even being gentler than before.
It was almost like he was whispering his love in every thrust, and I felt every part of me melt under him, my own hands roaming down to find his back, his sides, holding onto him.
Because I could never let go.
I was so fucked up in the love I had for this man. So fucked up in the way he could turn me inside out, leaving me breathless one moment, and then so tender and gentle the next.
He wasn’t rough now. He wasn’t hurried.
“You’re close” I whispered against his lips, my voice low but teasing, loving the way he was fighting not to lose it. His grip on my sides tightened as he groaned softly, his eyes closing as he concentrated on the slow roll of his hips.
“I’m trying to hold on” he murmured back, his voice strained. “Trying not to rush it… but, damn, baby…”
I smiled softly, my hands gently cupping his face as I kissed him again, slow and tender, wanting to give him everything he needed in this moment.
My own body was still buzzing with the aftermath of my orgasm, and I loved how it felt to be so connected to him. He was still taking his time, even though I could hear his breath faltering with every pass of his hips.
“Let go, Lew” I whispered softly, pulling him down to me, pressing my lips against his ear. “I’m right here”
That seemed to do it. I felt the tension in his body snap as he gave in, and the way his movements became almost desperate but still held that deep, slow rhythm.
His moans were louder now, growing more guttural, and I felt him lose himself in me, in the way he was finally letting go, filling me with a warmth that had me gasping for air.
I could hear his breath hitching as he tried to push himself just a little bit further, the way his body trembled with the effort of holding it together. But it didn’t matter anymore.
I pulled him closer, my hands clutching his shoulders as I whispered more sweet nothings, my lips brushing his skin in a way that had him falling.
When he came, it was slow, labored and deep. His whole body shuddering as he let out a low groan, and I was right there with him, kissing him through it, holding him close as he filled me.
His face was next to mine, his breath hot on my skin, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his ragged moans. There was nothing more intimate than hearing him like this, his pleasure all tangled with mine.
As his body finally slowed, he pulled back slightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his features filled with that boyish happiness.
He gave me a soft smile, still trying to catch his breath. “You good?” he asked, the same question he always asked, but this time it was a little lighter, a little less intense.
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “Are you?”
He grinned, his eyes still a little unfocused. “Yeah… just, give me a minute”
I ran my hand gently along his chest, still reeling from the sensation of him inside me, but not losing the opportunity to tease him lightly. “Gotta give it to you, for an old guy, you really work it well”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, looking down at me, clearly amused. “Oh, is that how we’re doing this now?”
I grinned up at him, my body still buzzing from the aftermath. “I’m just giving credit where credit’s due. You might be getting up there in age, but you’ve still got it.”
He chuckled, finally pulling away, both of us wincing at the feeling of emptiness.
He grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and as he cleaned my thighs up, I couldn’t help but notice the change in how he looked at me, from that goofy, tender smile to a wicked grin.
He hesitated for a moment before stating “Definitely left a souvenir”
I looked down, feeling the sensitive heat between my legs, and shot him a cheeky smile. “You got a little too carried away with your ‘old guy’ moves.”
He raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “If you’re still that sassy I’m sure I can find other ways to shut you up.”
I laughed, the sound full of affection and humor. “That tweet’s gonna stick with me, isn’t it?”
But despite the banter, I couldn’t help but feel that warmth again in the pit of my stomach, that quiet love I had for him—the way he could be so tender, so gentle, but also rough when I needed it.
As he kept on cleaning me up, I raised an eyebrow, the corners of my lips twitching into a mischievous grin. "Oh, and just so you know," I started, letting my voice drop into a teasing tone, "I liked the tweet. Just to make sure people know I agree."
His eyes widened in mock disbelief. “You did not,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement as he leaned back to look at me more intently, trying to gauge if I was joking.
I couldn’t help but smile even wider, the truth hanging between us like an unspoken dare.
He stared at me for a moment, processing the full impact of what I’d just confessed. And then, with a wicked grin, he leaned down and kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine in a way that told me I’d just earned another round in return.
Well, looks like liking that tweet would be the least of my worries.
When he finally pulled away, both of us breathless, I smirked up at him, savoring the moment.
“You know,” I said with a little chuckle, “You might just get me to start a fan club for you.”
He raised an eyebrow, his grin spreading. "Oh yeah? What’s it gonna be called? 'I love Lewis Hamilton'?"
I shook my head with a dramatic sigh. "Nah, that’s already taken, probably. Maybe something like, ‘I’d let Lewis Hamilton leave me raw any day,’” I shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing to say.
His eyes flickered with amusement and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. Without another word, he pulled me toward him, kissing me deeply again, his arms wrapping around me like a vice.
I guess if he’s gonna keep me like this, I might just have to start the fan club for real.
But then again, who’s the real fan here?
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf
@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo
@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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Language Lessons || Steve Rogers x F!Reader
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Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!reader
Themes: Funny? Steve trying to relate to you more
Summary: Steve wanting to impress you, goes on a little lesson about Millenial/GEN Z slangs.
A/N: AGAIN, my sense of humour is shallow. . . I was crying when I read the full story because I find my own thing so funny welp. But hey, I finally wrote a Comedy for Steve 😅
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Steve stands in the hallway of the Avengers Tower, a crumpled piece of paper clenched in his hand like it’s a mission briefing for a covert op. The words "Intro to Modern Slang: How to Speak Like a Millennial and Gen Z" are printed at the top of the flyer, making him sweat more than when he faced the Chitauri. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of your mocking laughter echoing in his ears.
“I’m serious, Steve,” you had said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You can’t just say ‘groovy’ and expect people to take you seriously.”
Steve had taken that challenge to heart. He fought in WWII; he could conquer this.
As he steps inside the classroom, his eyes dart around the room. It’s filled with a gaggle of twenty-somethings, some in beanies and oversized hoodies, others with hair dyed in colors that defy nature’s palette. They’re staring at him like he’s a grandpa who wandered into the wrong building and refused to leave.
Steve steels himself. He’s Captain America. He fought Hydra. He faced Thanos. This… this is just another battlefield. He slides into a chair that creaks under his weight, pulling out a notepad and a pen like he’s preparing for combat.
“Welcome, everyone!” chirps the instructor, a guy named Dylan—according to his tag—who’s sporting a neon hoodie and a chain necklace that spells out ‘YOLO’ in gold letters. Earbuds dangle around his neck like he’s afraid to be without them for too long. “I’m Dylan, and I’ll be helping you unlock the wonders of modern communication.”
Steve nods seriously, his brows furrowed in concentration. He’s missing the confident nods and murmurs of agreement from briefings with the Avengers. Here, all he gets are side-eyes and a few raised eyebrows. But he ignores them. Focus, Rogers.
“Let’s start with something basic,” Dylan says, gesturing dramatically like he’s presenting a spell. “Say you’re excited about something… You might say, ‘that’s lit.’”
“Lit?” Steve repeats, his expression somewhere between confusion and fascination. It’s like he’s hearing about the Tesseract for the first time. He scribbles it down in his impeccable handwriting.
Dylan nods encouragingly, like Steve’s a kindergartener who just figured out the alphabet. “Right! And if something’s really cool, you can say ‘that’s fire.’”
“Fire…” Steve’s voice trails off as he writes that down too, then looks up, eyes narrowed like he’s running a complex equation in his head. “But… why would fire be a good thing? Fire’s dangerous.”
One of the teenagers snickers, and Steve glares, the kind of stare that once sent grown soldiers scrambling for cover. The kid immediately shuts up.
“It’s not literal fire,” Dylan explains gently, as if to a particularly stubborn toddler. “It’s metaphorical fire. Means something is awesome. Or really good.”
“Got it. Fire is good.” Steve nods firmly, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced. “Okay. Fire.”
“Great!” Dylan claps his hands, clearly thrilled that Steve hasn’t run out the door yet. “Now, if you want to show support or agree with something, you can say ‘that’s a vibe.’”
“A vibe,” Steve repeats slowly. “Okay. That’s a vibe.” He pauses, trying to wrap his head around it. “So, like, if Hulk is calm for once and not smashing things… I could say ‘that’s a vibe?’”
The room falls dead silent. A couple of the students are desperately trying not to laugh. Dylan blinks, then flashes a thumbs-up. “Sure, man. That’s totally… vibey. Now, when you’re leaving somewhere, you might say you’re going to ‘dip.’”
“Dip?” Steve murmurs, brow furrowing deeper. He’s trying so hard it’s almost painful to watch. “Like, uh… salsa?”
“No, man.” Dylan can’t hide his grin. “Like… you’re leaving. You’re out.”
“Oh.” Steve nods slowly, the gears turning. “I’m going to dip. Got it.”
“Yeah!” Dylan cheers, as if Steve’s just managed to take his first steps. “That’s a start.”
Steve looks down at his notepad, where the words lit, fire, vibe, dip are scrawled neatly, underlined for emphasis. “So, if I’m excited, I say something’s lit or fire… If I agree, it’s a vibe… and when I leave, I dip.”
“That’s the gist of it!” Dylan says brightly.
Steve’s head is spinning with unfamiliar terms. ‘Drip,’ ‘stan,’ ‘flex,’ ‘ghosting’—it’s all a blur of confusion. He gives himself a mental pep talk. He’s Captain America. He’s taken on gods and monsters. He can do this. He straightens in his chair, determination blazing in his eyes.
Dylan eyes him warily. “You, uh, feeling okay there, Steve?”
Steve looks up, a bit wild-eyed. “I’m Gucci, fam.”
There’s a strangled cough from the back of the room. One of the teenagers actually falls off his chair. Dylan just blinks at him, speechless.
“Good… job?” Dylan offers hesitantly.
Steve beams, mistaking the stunned silence for approval. He’s got this. For you.
× × × ×
The next day, Steve stands in the Avengers kitchen, carefully stirring his coffee. Bucky trudges in, still half-asleep, grumbling about the mission report he was up until 3 a.m. finishing. Steve looks up, a determined look in his eyes.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve says with forced casualness. “What’s up, king?”
Bucky freezes mid-stride, one eyebrow shooting up so high it nearly disappears into his hairline. “What did you just call me?”
“King. Like… uh… ‘go off, king.’ It means… good job.” Steve’s expression is so earnest that Bucky can’t even bring himself to laugh.
Bucky blinks once. Twice. He glances around, half-expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out and shout, Gotcha! 
“Uh… Thanks?” he manages, voice thick with confusion. “You good, man?”
Steve’s smile is too wide, too tight. “Oh, yeah, I’m vibing. Just… vibing hard.”
Bucky stares at him, “Right. You want breakfast?” He starts moving cautiously toward the stove, not breaking eye contact with Steve.
“Nah, I’m good.” Steve waves it off with the confidence of someone who has no idea what he’s doing. “Not gonna lie, your last cooking attempt was kinda sus.”
Bucky stops again, brows furrowed, “Sus?”
“Yeah, like… suspicious.” Steve taps his chin, as if that’s going to clarify anything. “You almost burned the Tower down, Buck. That’s not very poggers of you.”
“Poggers?” Bucky repeats slowly, the word foreign and clunky in his mouth. He squints, searching Steve’s face for answers. “Steve, are you having a stroke?”
“No, I’m just being vibey.” Steve shrugs, like that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. “You know, staying on fleek.”
Bucky’s face contorts like he’s bitten into a lemon. “Steve, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but it’s stressing me out.”
“Okay, boomer,” Steve mutters, rolling his eyes with all the sass of a TikTok teen. “Whatever, I’m gonna yeet outta here.”
And with that, he picks up his shield, and with the gravitas of throwing a grenade, he yells, “Yeet!” as he hurls it at the training dummy across the room.
Bucky watches the shield ricochet off the dummy, his mouth hanging open. 
“He’s completely lost it,” Bucky mutters, rubbing his temples. “This man went into the ice for seventy years and came out with a mid-life crisis.”
From the hallway, Sam pokes his head in. “What’s with Steve?”
Bucky gestures helplessly at Steve, who’s now muttering “That’s so fire” under his breath as he fidgets with his coffee. “I don’t know, but if he says ‘poggers’ one more time, I’m gonna throw him out the window.”
Steve glares at Bucky, “Weird flex but okay.”
“The fuck?” 
× × × ×
Steve finally spots you in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in a TV show. He straightens his shoulders, trying to channel the cool, easy-going energy he’s practiced in front of the mirror for an embarrassing number of hours. He saunters over—or what he thinks is a saunter—and stops right in front of her, hands on his hips like he’s about to deliver a speech.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, voice a little too loud and too intense, startling you.
You blinked up at him, surprised. “Uh, hey? What’s going on?”
Steve grins. He’s got this. “That outfit you’re wearing? It’s straight bussin’, no cap.”
Your mouth falls open, and you stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “I—what did you just—?”
“Bussin’,” Steve repeats confidently, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “You know… like, it slaps.”
“It slaps?” You echo weakly. yousets down your water glass, fully focusing on him now because this—this has got to be a fever dream.
“Yeah, like… it’s on fleek.” He tilts his head, assessing your expression. “It means you look really good.”
Your lips twitch, desperately holding back a smile. “And where did you learn all these… colourful words?”
Steve shuffles his feet, looking almost bashful. 
“I’ve been educating myself,” he says, clearing his throat. “You know, so I don’t sound like such a boomer.”
You lost it. You doubled over, laughing so hard you nearly slipped off the couch. “Steve, you do know boomer refers to the generation born in the mid 1940s to 60s, right? You’re more like—”
“I know!” Steve cuts in, hands waving frantically. “But the class said I could use it as, like, a joke.” He leans in conspiratorially. “It’s ironic.”
“That’s not what irony means, babe.”
Steve frowns, clearly frustrated. 
“Well, I still think it’s valid.” He straightens again, as if recommitting to his mission. 
“Okay, let me try something else. Uh… Oh, right—” He points dramatically at the TV. “That show you’re watching? Total banger.”
“Banger?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “It’s a cooking show.”
“Exactly!” Steve exclaims, clearly not getting it. “All that fire food they’re making? It’s bussin’, right?”
You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your burst of laughter. “Oh my gosh, you really did take a class. What else did they teach you?”
Steve brightens, as if she’s finally taking him seriously. 
“Well, if something’s bad, I can say it’s cringe.” He gestures to himself, a little sheepish now. “Like how I was talking before. But now? I’m all vibes, right?”
Your shoulders are shaking as you try to keep a straight face. “You’re definitely… a vibe.”
“Yeah, see? I knew I was getting the hang of it.” Steve nods sagely. “And if I want to agree with something, I just say ‘bet.’ Like—” He looks around the room. “—this whole conversation? It’s bet.”
You snorted. “It’s bet?”
“Yeah, like, I agree. It’s fun. And you know what? I’m not being sus, okay? I’m just being real. Keeping it 100.”
Your vision is starting to blur from the sheer force of holding in your laughter. “Uh-huh, sure you are.”
Steve leans in a little closer, voice dropping conspiratorially again. “Also, I’m totally shipping us right now.”
You choke. “Excuse me?”
“You know,” he gestures between the two of them. “Like, us together? It’s goals.”
“Oh my gosh, please stop.” you cover your face, both mortified and utterly charmed. “You’re not allowed to ship us. You’re in this relationship.”
Steve’s face lights up, triumphant. “So you admit we’re a ship?”
You throw your head back and groan dramatically. “Yes, fine. We’re a ship, Captain Cringe.”
Steve takes a moment to bask in his victory, looking immensely proud of himself. He’s practically glowing. Then, with all the suave energy he can muster, he smirks and says, “So, what you’re saying is… I’m the GOAT?”
You let out a cackle. “Yes, Steve, you’re the GOAT.” you paused and then added, just for kicks, “But only if I can be the MVP.”
Steve’s grin widens, looking like he’s just won a war. “Bet.”
And with that, he whirls around, strides confidently to the door, and as he opens it, he throws over his shoulder: “Anyway, I’m gonna dip before I embarrass myself further. Catch you on the flip side, Y/N.”
“Wait, where are you going?” You call, struggling to catch your breath. “You live here!”
Steve freezes mid-step, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh… Well, I’m still gonna yeet.”
“Yeet where, exactly?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he awkwardly side steps out the door and half-jogs down the hallway, muttering, “This was not poggers…” as your laughter echoes behind him.
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fl-oralfawnarchive · 2 months ago
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^^^ this one
the original post is so bad for so many reasons
but the main thing is that it is very, very possible to be homeless and need help and still have access to a phone and/or the internet
please don’t listen to people like OP. make your own decisions about how to interact with this situation based on research. but do not listen to this kind of awful fear mongering from a literal 19 year old please<3
gofundme scammers
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DO NOT REPLY TO THOSE GO FUND ME ASKS
DO NOT ANSWER ANY GO FUND ME PARAGRAPH ASK, BLOCK AND DELETE THE ASK
DO NOT THINK YOU ARE SPREADING AWARENESS
THESE PEOPLE ARE SCAMMERS, THEY ARE NOT IN GAZA, THEY ARE NOT HOMELESS, THEY ARE NOT STARVING.
THEY HAVE TUMBLR… 😭 IF THEY WERE STARVING, HOMELESS & IN EXTREME POVERTY THEY WOULDN’T HAVE ACCESS TO SOCIAL MEDIA
PLEASE DON’T BE SCAMMED!
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REBLOG FOR AWARENESS AGAINST SCAMMERS!
THEY ARE FAKE!
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akamitrani · 17 days ago
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— Backstage Pass —
David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader (Pt.1?)
Warnings: Mild suggestive, flirting (and the massive amount of tension that comes with it), release of the tension, slow burn.
Summary: You manage to get backstage access to a Terrifier panel where David is present, you end up striking a conversation with him and one thing leads to another.
[A/N: Hi guys, this is my first ever published fanfic – Be kind ☠️ – Sorry if anything lol. Btw, I hope y'all like to read fr cuz this fanfic surely is for readers]
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[ · · · ]
The low hum of the convention floor buzzed around you, but for the moment, it felt as though the world had quieted down. You stood backstage, just outside the makeshift white room where David was preparing for a panel at the horror convention. Your excitement of meeting the actor behind Art the Clown was palpable, it was the man himself – the warm, approachable, and genuine David
You had spent the better part of the day anxiously navigating your way through autograph lines, fan meet-and-greets and photo ops, but now, standing backstage, you had a rare chance to speak with him outside the chaos. You never expected an encounter like this but here you were, a quiet moment with the very man who had terrified and fascinated you all at once
David’s head peeked from behind the curtains, his bright blue eyes meeting yours – “Hey! You’re the one who was talking about makeup techniques earlier, right?” – his voice had a casual charm, free of any of the sinister vibes Art was known for
You nodded, a bit stunned that he’d even remembered you from earlier in the day – “I'm Y/N by the way... And yeah, I’m just starting to get into prosthetics, but I love how the horror community brings so many elements together”
He smiled, a grin that reached his eyes and softened the sharpness of his features – “Y/N. And oh I totally get that. There’s something about horror that feels like a puzzle, you know? Acting, makeup, lighting… everything needs to come together for the whole thing to work”
It felt like a small moment of mutual understanding, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his enthusiasm. Here was David, the man behind the terrifying clown, speaking with such openness.
“So...” – David said after a beat, his tone playful – “what’s your favorite kind of horror?”
“It’s a toss-up but I’d say psychological horror, something that messes with your mind, makes you question what’s real” – You said
He nodded thoughtfully, his expression turning serious for a moment – “Yeah, that kind of horror is powerful. But I have to admit, sometimes I miss just making people jump... It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure for me”
You laughed loud, the sound echoing through the quiet backstage space – “I bet! It’s a great feeling though, knowing you can make people react like that”
David’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint appearing – “Well... I think we’ve got some time for a little more talking, but it’s not going to be quieter once the panel starts, I'll eventually get busy... You’re sticking around, right?”
You hesitated, the pull of curiosity and excitement making you eager to continue the conversation – “Of course! After the panel, would you like to talk more? What about... Grabbing a drink?”
David raised an eyebrow, the playful smile tugging at his lips again – “Perfect, was just thinking the same thing. And I could definitely use a quiet moment away from the crowd... There's a nice café nearby, just behind the building”
You felt a jolt of anticipation. This was no longer just a fan encounter. The conversation had shifted from polite exchanges to something more personal, a subtle invitation hanging in the air
“Perfect!” – You replied, feeling your nerves melt away – “See you there then”
“I'll be there as soon as the panel is finished" – He replied
[ · · · ]
sorry but I don't have the patience
to write a 'in between' lol
You entered the café David mentioned about earlier, the ambiance was calm as expected. Dave was already there tucked in a corner booth, his eyes eventually meet yours and he sweetly waves at you. Walking in his direction you sat down, wasting no time to start chatting. David had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning slightly forward, completely engrossed in the story you were telling him
“And that’s when I realized..." – you laughed, glancing down in embarrassment – “I’d been talking to the director with fake blood still smeared all across my cheek!”
David chuckled – “You’d fit right in on a horror set with a story like that” – he said, tilting his head with that trademark playful smile – “Sounds like you were born for the genre”
You felt a warmth rise in your cheeks, not just from the flattery but from the way he looked at you — as if you two were the only people in the room. For someone who could be so chillingly silent in his role as Art, David had an openness and kindness that made you feel immediately at ease
Both of you shared another laugh, you noticed his fingers drumming gently against the ceramic cup, a little habit he seemed unaware of. The small, endearing detail felt so far removed from the menacing persona he played on screen. In that moment, you wondered how many people really got to see him this way, relaxed and unguarded
“So” – David said, breaking the silence – “I have to ask... why horror? Why would you willingly choose a field that involves blood, guts, and a thousand ways to terrify an audience?”
You took a sip of your coffee, considering an answer – “I think it’s the honesty of it... Horror doesn’t hide from what people fear. It embraces it. And creating that… It’s almost like a dance between knowing what scares people and making them feel safe enough to face it. It’s–”
“Powerful” David finished for you, a look of understanding in his eyes – “Yeah. I think I know what you mean” – he paused – “That’s exactly what draws me to it. There’s something about the way people’s walls come down when they’re scared. You can see who they really are”
Your eyes met with his, a silence settled between you and him, charged with something unspoken. You felt a flutter of nervous excitement, this was David Howard Thornton, a master of horror, sharing his personal thoughts with you as if you were an old friend
“Hey-” – David’s voice softened, breaking the tension – “I just realized how late it’s getting. But honestly…” – He glanced down, almost shyly, before looking back up with a small grin – “I don't want this conversation to end just yet”
You hadn't realized how much time had passed, you feel your heart skip – “Me neither...”
He hesitated, then gave a casual shrug – “I have a bottle of wine back at my hotel...” – he said with a hint of playful mischief – “If you’re up for it, we could keep talking there... No pressure though — I promise I’m far less terrifying off the set”
You both laughed, but you felt a thrill run through your body. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but the invitation in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, left little room for doubt
“Well...” – you said, mirroring his grin – “as long as you leave the clown mask behind”
David let out a low, warm chuckle and reached out, his hand brushing against yours just briefly – “Deal.”
[ · · · ]
at the hotel
The elevator doors slid open, then shut with a soft thud – the hum of the machine filled the otherwise quiet space between you both. David stood closer, his presence palpable as the two of you ascended to the upper floors. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the subtle hint of his musky cologne, the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly
The tension from the café was still there – unspoken, but thick. You could both feel it in the air, like an electric charge that had been building ever since the moment you'd first exchanged words. But now, in this small quiet space, it was almost impossible to ignore
David caught your eye, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his mouth – “I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s nice to get away from the madness for a bit you know”
You nodded but you could feel your heart rate picking up, the proximity between you and him making your thoughts scatter – “Yeah, it’s… really nice” – your voice sounded quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he is standing, how his shoulder brushed against yours every so often
The elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at David’s floor, you both stepped out. David led the way to his room, his long strides confident, though there was a subtle energy about him – something different than the actor you’d seen on stage. The man before them now seemed grounded, a little more vulnerable, but still just as captivating
As you two reached the door, David turned to you with a quiet smile – “Make yourself at home” – he said, pushing the door open and holding it for you to enter. The room was cozy, warmly lit
You stepped in, the scent of fresh linen and something faintly musky lingering in the air, his cologne you thought. You took a moment to glance around but David was already moving toward the small bar area by the window, pouring two glasses of wine
“Care for something?” – he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes
“Sure, why not?” – You replied, voice a little breathless. It was hard to focus on anything other than the man before you, the way he moved, how effortlessly he carried himself. It was a strange mix of charm and allure, the kind of presence that seemed to draw people in without effort
David handed you the glass, his fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. His touch lingered, and you both looked up at the same time, locking eyes. There was something in his gaze – soft yet intense.
“Cheers” – he murmured lifting his own glass, clinking your drinks together
The conversation flowed easily at first, light and casual, but the air felt heavier now. David shifted slightly, moving a little closer as he leaned against the back of a chair, eyes never leaving yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite.
You set your drink down on the table, feeling a quiet tension building – “You know... I never thought I’d end up in a hotel room with someone like you”
David raised an eyebrow – “Someone like me?”
You laughed softly, a little nervous – “Yeah, someone so… different from Art”
David’s smile deepened, and he moved a fraction closer – “I think I’m a little more like Art than you realize” – he teased, there was a softness in his voice and a hint of something else, something that wasn’t just playful
“I don’t know…” – your voice faltering for a moment – “M-maybe you’re right”
David didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze darkened just slightly, his focus never wavering. He stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the best way
“You know Y/N” he said quietly, almost a whisper – “I’m glad you stayed”
[···]
The silence between you both thickened, hanging in the air. David's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as though he was considering something. Drawn to the warmth of his presence, you got closer. David didn't move away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, giving you space to decide what to do next. A quiet hunger in the way he looked at you.
“I dont want to rush this” – David said softly, voice low and deliberate – “But, I can't pretend I'm not completely drawn to you”
You reached up, fingers brushing against his arm, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. David inhaled sharply, his body tensing just a bit at the contact.
“Are you sure?” – he whispered, his hand reached out, fingers barely grazing the edge of your wrist. You nodded, voice barely above a breath – “Yeah, I'm sure.”
David's hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb grazing the curve of your jaw – savoring every second. David's face was so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.
His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first. His hands slid down, pulling you closer. He grabs your waist hard and you accidentally let out a small moan... That's when he finally kisses you, letting out a low whimper himself. The kiss gets deeper, sucking and biting. You respond instinctively, fingers threading through his gray hair, drawing him in as the kiss became more urgent, more desperate.
You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, foreheads resting against each other and trying to collect yourselves. This had been building all night, ready to break.
“You're incredible” – David murmured, his voice thick with desire
You met his gaze – “I can say the same about you”
“I've wanted this all night” – He confessed
David's hands slid down your back, guiding you firmly towards him, towards his thighs. Now straddling him, your fingers tightened in his hair as his hands moved, exploring the curves of your waist, savoring every detail about it. His hands slid down your dress, up your thighs and finally resting on the hem of your panties... His eyes pledged for yours, for assurance – You nodded
“You're not going to regret this” he whispered
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months ago
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The Villain's Protector (Part 1) - Don't Blame Me
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Summary: The reader wants out from working for the CIA so they propose a deal. She acts as the captured Soldier Boy's caretaker and she's free to go in six months. Their idea of stealing Soldier Boy's supe altering powers aren't exactly for what the reader thinks though and she needs Solider Boy to escape for her own plans. But those plans go awry when the CIA unleashes a dangerous life-changing weapon and the only way for her and Soldier Boy to survive is to stick together...
Masterlist
Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader
Word Count: 5,400ish
Warnings: language, violence, torture, bombing,
A/N: This series takes place post Season 3. Please enjoy this first part and let me know what you think!
________
“Y/L/N.” You lifted an eyebrow, finding an unfamiliar older woman at the entrance to your office. Your supervisor nodded beside her and you pulled your headphones off, letting them rest around your neck. “You’re off desk duty.”
“The chatter from these guys-”
“Yeah, I know. Somebody else will handle it. As of five minutes ago, you report to her now,” said your supervisor, rattling a knuckle on the door. You were ready to argue about how you were promised desk duty to finish out these last six months but she was gone before you could blink. You grumbled as the older woman stepped inside, closing the heavy door behind her.
“I heard you want out,” she said. You leaned back in your chair, cocking your head. “Nobody ever really leaves the CIA you know.”
“What’s my handle ID?” you asked, the woman raising her chin. “I ain’t telling you jack shit until I know you’re legit.”
“Black Midnight Angel. You want to get to work now? Or you going to waste more of my time?” You narrowed your eyes, the woman giving it right back. “Work this job for six months until you leave and the agency will pay for your schooling. And I know you’re skeptical so we already wired the funds to your bank account.”
“Black ops?” you asked quietly. She shook her head, taking a seat in the chair across your desk.
“Mallory Fischer,” she said, your lips pressing into a thin line. “You know what I do then.”
“Yes, I do. Question is why do you want me on your team? There are far more qualified people.” She looked you up and down, a small smirk crossing her lips.
“You’re right. Your agent assessment scores are average aside from your intel work. Last time you were in the field you were shot-”
“Why. Me.” You knew it was coming. You knew exactly what was coming.
“You have a year of medical school under your belt.” That…was not what you were expecting. Did she not…know? Maybe not. Fine. You weren’t bringing that up if you could help it.
“I do. You should know that the reason I couldn’t finish was because the CIA recruited me, despite my desire to not join,” you said, letting it hang in the air. Mallory rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “You people fucked up my life plan you know. I’m thirty two. I’m going to be a good 5 years minimum behind my peers by the time I graduate.”
“Did I give you the impression that I give a shit?” You grumbled but kept your mouth shut. “You agreed to work here.”
“You threatened to deport my friend if I didn’t,” you growled. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t have had an ex-boyfriend with ties to-”
“Just stop. What the fuck do you want with me?”
“I have Soldier Boy.” You laughed, Mallory dead eyed. “I’m quite serious.”
“He fucking blew up last week.” Mallory cocked her head. You sighed, running a hand over your mouth. “He fell from, what, the seventieth floor? He’s really that strong?”
“He’s damn near indestructible. If it makes you feel better, Maeve survived too. But seeing as how she hates Vought more than most, we let her slide. Pretty sure she and her girlfriend went up to-” 
“So she’s free and you don’t give a fuck about what she does. Fine. But what the fuck does ‘I have Soldier Boy’ mean exactly?” you asked. Mallory eyed you up and down. 
“He’s Homelanders father.” You rolled your eyes and she frowned. “Why exactly is that not surprising to you?”
“Come on,” you laughed. “The most powerful supe to exist suddenly disappears right around the time Homelander was born? They’re both the poster child for all american wonder boy. I figured he was the dad doing a book report in middle school. It’s not that complicated.”
“Then you can understand why having Homelander’s father provides us an opportunity. His power is the only weapon we have that comes close to taking Homelander out. You watch the news. Homelander is losing his shit. We need to find a way to deal-”
“You don’t need Soldier Boy’s powers to fucking catch Homelander. If you caught pops, you can catch the kid and for the record, I am not one of your fucking super agents so you want me for research, fine. But save the shooting and catching Homelander for your own people.” You scooted your chair in closer to your computer, Mallory grabbing your hand roughly when you placed it on your mouse.
“Soldier Boy didn’t have the power to knock out other supes powers until after the Russian’s tortured him. We need to understand that ability of his and what made it change.” You sighed, pulling your hand away. “Work the job and in six months you’re gone.”
“And what exactly does this job entail?”
“We need a doctor, or the next best thing, for the night shift. Twelve hour shifts. You feed him, clean him, tend to him. Most of the time he’s going to be out cold. It’s maybe an hour of real work a night. You can do whatever the fuck you want in your office when you’re taking care of him, I really don’t care. We just need him in working order, got it?”
You pushed away from your computer, lifting your chin. “And that hour where he’s not out cold? How the fuck do I go near him without dying?”
“You better not be claustrophobic.”
Two Days Later
Mallory had ditched you not five minutes after seven pm after showing you to an office in the very plain looking warehouse in upstate New York. She’d naturally failed to mention that Soldier Boy was being held at a facility outside of the city. But you weren’t about to complain, not when the commute was shorter than your original one. So there you stood, a frozen TV dinner in your backpack, a guard dressed head to toe in black combat gear with an assault rifle almost as big as you, still wondering what the hell you were meant to do.
“You guys got a break room?” you sighed, dumping the bag on the desk and pulling out your dinner.
“Two doors down on the left. Unisex bathroom is around the corner,” he said, still not revealing his face from behind his dark mask. That was fine. He was an overqualified security guard in your mind. “Mallory left a schedule and map of the building on your desk. Burn them when you’ve memorized it.”
“Yup,” you said, walking past him and heading down the hall. “So how many guards are there right now?”
“The only staff on the night shift is yourself, a dozen interior guards, and four patrolling external officers.”
“No custodial staff?” you asked, entering the bare bones room with a microwave, old fridge and a wobbly table. Wonderful.
“No. They clean during the day. The facility isn’t large enough to warrant external help.” You hummed, popping the tray out of the box and into the microwave. “Do you have any further questions?”
“Is the Novichok gas always on in the room he’s held in?” you asked. He shook his head.
“He’s kept in a cryo tube during the night. Before entering the room, we will fill the room with gas for five minutes that will allow him to waken slightly but remain harmless. You will then enter in your hazmat suit and remove him from the chamber where you will perform your duties. When you indicate you are finished, we will increase the gas until he passes out and you can place him back in the tube. When you leave the room, we will stop the gas.” 
“Does he eat during the day? What about the bathroom?” He was still and you frowned. “Dude. I get that everything is need to know but I need to know basic shit about my patient.”
“You feed him according to the schedule. He has a catheter.”
“And going number two?” 
“He doesn’t get solids.”
“I don’t care what kind of liquid diet he’s on, he’s still going to shit.”
“I have my job, you have yours.” 
You grumbled when he left, hitting the power on for your dinner. Just what you wanted for a career. Wipe the ass of the world’s most powerful supe.
You tried to forget about that portion of your “duties” as you ate your meal. It was still going to be easier than your first rotation in med school, that was for sure. He’d just…lay there drugged out of his mind. With the small threat in the air of if your hazmat suit tore for any reason, like say an angry supe being held prisoner grabbed it and ripped the plastic which he very likely was capable of even in that state. 
Easy peasy.
You were able to distract yourself for an hour by walking the halls to figure out the layout of the building. The guard had been right. It wasn’t a large building. There were a few offices and typical building facilities in the front of the building. Security was stationed in the middle and Soldier Boy’s holding cell along with a viewing room was in the back corner. What appeared to be an operating room was further down the hall but that wasn’t entirely uncalled for in a black ops prison like this. You couldn’t exactly take your wounded agents or prisoners to a normal hospital. 
You ended your self-guided tour in the viewing room staring down at the dark room below. Save for the soft blue light emitting from the cryo tube. You couldn’t see much at the angle. The top of the tube was see through but all you spotted were a pair of bare feet.
“He’s not strapped down?” you asked as the door to your right opened, a guard stepping through, this one slightly shorter than the one you’d spoken to originally.
“No. You’ll need to move him around. He’s wearing a face mask providing a direct stream of Novichok gas to him. You only need to remove it when you shove a tube down his throat for feeding. I’d suggest saving that for last.”
You quirked an eyebrow up. He was a supe, sure. This was a CIA secret holding prison, sure. The treatment of prisoners didn’t exactly have to adhere to the Geneva Convention in this kind of environment.
But it felt gross treating him like a meat puppet, keeping him alive only to figure out his powers. Which made you consider something else.
“Why go through the trouble of keeping him alive? Wouldn’t it be easier to just drown him? Or just take his DNA and recreate the power aspect?” you asked. Unsurprisingly, the guard didn’t answer. You crossed your arms, glancing at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t much past eight and there were still a few hours until his scheduled “wake” time. “New plan.”
“New…plan?” he asked. You just knew he was rolling his eyes at you behind those thick black goggles.
“Well he’s my patient, isn’t he? I’m making a new schedule, one that’s more appropriate for the patient.”
“You can’t do that,” he said quickly, your chin raising. “He’s a prisoner.”
“I know I’m just the glorified ass wiper for this guy but the more he feels like he has someone in his corner, the more apt he is to let a secret loose. Maybe he says jack shit but maybe he tells me what the russians did so you can figure out whatever power crap you’re looking for. Got it?” 
“That’s the Y/N I’d expect.” You turned around, Mallory appearing in a doorway behind you. “Dismissed, Greg.”
“Don’t play games with me,” you said when the guard left. Mallory took a few steps forward to join you at your side, peering down into the room below. 
“We had to know you’d be a team player. You’re not dumb. I think you can understand why I want you to do this job, even if you don’t have your medical degree.” You narrowed your eyes. 
“Am I supposed to be his doctor or his fake friend? Which is it?” you asked.
“Both. It probably won’t work, the cocky bastard’s too smart for it, but it doesn’t hurt to try every option. I’d like to think you in particular would be willing to do whatever it takes to figure out that supe destroying beam of his. Am I wrong?” You ignored her, staring through the glass to the dark room. 
“You hired me to be his doctor so that’s what I’ll be. Anything more will be my choice, am I clear?” 
“Fine. Now let’s get you acquainted with your patient.”
“Fine.” You turned and left the room, heading down a set of stairs. You were in a changing room that had hazmat suits and respirators, different outfits for you to choose from. Along the back was a fridge that held his food, a thick mixture that looked completely unappealing. Beside the fridge was a cart for you to bring in and out, a medical bag on top but otherwise it was bare.
You stared at the options and sighed as you picked up the gas mask on its own. For one, if he wanted to kill you, he really could, suit or no suit. But mostly you had a bad feeling in your gut, like he needed some actual human interaction. If they were barely letting him be conscious during the day, he was going to start having problems. Namely, the angry supe was only going to get angrier which meant more violent which meant way more likely he killed you.
A gentle hand might be the only way to get through these six months in one piece. 
After securing your mask, you made a note of the log by the fridge, surprised to find he’d been fed roughly an hour before your shift started. Huh. Maybe they were treating him better than you’d though. With your bag in hand, you hit the button on the wall, thick metal doors opening and allowing you to step into an air lock. You hit the button behind you, sealing it off and then a large black one with a hazard symbol over it. A small light appeared red over the button for a moment before turning green. You hit the button on the far wall and another thick door opened to the dim room. A fine mist clung to the air, deadly novichok swirling all around you. You raised your arm, checking for any reaction but you weren’t expecting one. Novichok was an aerosol. You had to breathe it in to suffer any consequences which hopefully you’d never find out how that felt.
The door shut quietly behind you, leaving you alone save for Mallory observing from behind the thick glass panel above.
You set the bag down, approaching the side of the far end of the chamber and hitting a large black button. A locking mechanism released, the door swinging open and allowing you to grab the end of the pull out tray. The first thing you noticed was Soldier Boy was naked, followed by a slight warmth to the air. The tray helped but he was heavy, a solid wall of muscle you noticed as your eyes darted over his body. Every inch of him oozed strength.
Ever so gently, you moved to his side, knuckles grazing over up his leg, over his strong thigh, soldi chest. You rested your palm over his chest, a slow, steady beat thrumming away.
You didn’t falter, didn’t do anything strange as you started to check his pulse, mind wandering while you went through the motions.
Sure, you’d be his fucking doctor. Until you figured out how to get him out of there that was. 
Ten minutes later you returned to the viewing room where Mallory had remained, her focus on Soldier Boy below.
“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. I know you’re thinking about how to break him out. Why do you think I hired you?” You smirked, cocking your head. 
“So you don’t want me for my medical knowledge. Shocking.”
“Fuck no, just like I know you have no desire to finish med school. Use that money for whatever the fuck you want. You do what I ask and we’ll give you ten times that and maybe we end up dealing with your little…problem along the way.”
You glanced at Soldier Boy, pursing your lips. “Why the ruse? Why not just tell me you want me to act like I’m the only one on his side?”
“Because I had to see how good an actor you are. The second I told you he can take away another supes powers…you should have seen your face. You were already in. You’ll have to be on all the time with him though. No mistakes. He’ll snap your neck if he finds out.”
Your gaze shot back to Mallory, her mouth forming a small smile. “I’m good at pretending everything is just fine. So what exactly is the plan to get him to trust me?”
“Be his friend. A few weeks from now you’ll miraculously break him out after learning about the torture he goes through during the day in our attempts to understand his powers. He’ll be leery of course but weak with the massive dose of novichok will get in him. By the time it wears off, he’ll trust that you’re a caretaker for him, likely even fall for you. And then? You prove your loyalty, shower him with that love he so desperately wants but won’t admit to. By then, he’ll blow the powers out of whoever you tell him to. He’ll be our loaded gun without even realizing.”
“That’s what you wanted all along,” you said, Mallory nodding for the two of you to leave the room, heading down a hallway. “Because if it doesn’t work, you can blame it all on me.”
“There’s a reason I wanted you on this job kid and it’s not just because that man will take one look at you and want to screw you. You will need to adapt on the fly. Use that head of yours and we’ll relay the list of supes we want him to take out and then he’ll go back in his box.”
“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s just hope he doesn’t kill me first.”
You were tired when you got home from work the next day around seven thirty in the morning. Mallory and security had given you an in-depth briefing of their plans. It was all very simple. Manipulate him. Make him see you as his only friend. Break him out and make him reliant on you to the point where he was doing exactly what they wanted without lifting a finger.
Except that wasn’t your plan. You’d break him out, play along to get him there but the second you had him alone, you’d tell him the truth.
And if he killed you in a fit of rage, so be it.
If he even could.
Three Weeks Later
You were grateful Mallory no longer came into work during your shifts. She wasn’t suspicious of you. Shit, she thought she had you read like an open book and you were perfectly happy to let everyone keep on thinking that. The guards left you alone unless you asked for something from them which meant you spent a lot of time either in Ben’s room, you’d taken to calling him Ben when you went in with him, or sitting in the observation room with a book.
It wasn’t hard to feign boredom when there wasn’t much to do. You desperately wanted to spend more time with Ben but it was dangerous to leave him off the gas for more than thirty minutes at a time. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call cognitively aware when you’d pull open the drawer and assess him. His eyes would flutter open weakly, a glimpse of an angry glare behind them before he’d call you a bitch and they’d shut again, his chest rising and falling deeper than when he slept. 
Which meant you were in for a fun time in about forty five minutes when you were supposed to “break him free” according to the plan. You were meant to go about your usual routine with him before they’d take him away to the operating room they called it. More like commit war crimes against a prisoner.
You didn’t know exactly what they were doing to him during the day but it was bad enough that Ben was starting to show injuries. Injuries. On an all powerful supe. Nothing major. A few bruises and scratches but it meant something was up and you wanted to be done with this charade and now.
You just needed Soldier Boy to take care of Reaper, that god awful supe, and then he could do whatever the fuck he wanted for all you cared.
A faint scream in the distance made your head snap up. You heard it again and closed your book. Who the hell would be screaming in a place like this? You got up and headed down the hall, dipping your head in the observation room.
A louder scream rang out as you saw the empty cryo chamber. You ran out to the hall, bumping into a guard.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, Lance from the sounds of it. 
“Where is he?” you asked, more screams heard now.
“Oh. Yeah, they kept him in the operating room longer today so he can do his ‘breakout’ with you soon. Sorry for the noise, he can get loud sometimes.”
“What?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 
“The breakout. You’re supposed to grab him from the operating-“
“I know which room I’m supposed to fake the breakout from. Why is he screaming?” you asked. The guard blinked, raising an eyebrow.
“He always screams. I would too if they shoved nuclear waste through a needle into my eyeball.” You scrunched up one eye, the guard giving you a look like you were the weird one. “It’s the only way they get the red matter out of him…”
“If you have your fucking red matter then what the fuck are you faking a break out for,” you growled. The guard held up his hands. “I asked a question.”
“Listen. I’m only telling you this cause I like you. They needed to fake a breakout that way they can drop their red matter bomb they’ve been brewing up and wipe out Soldier Boy and let the fallout spread down to the city and kill all the supes there, including Homelander. You were…the fall guy,” he said quietly. Your eye twitched as you grabbed his assault rifle, jamming the end under his jaw. “Y/N-”
“The only reason I’ll let you live is because you warned me. Now put on your gas mask.” He hesitantly did as told, securing it before you clocked him in the back of the head. 
Soldier Boy let out another pained scream and you’d had enough. You grabbed your gas mask from your office and ducked into the security office, grateful to find it empty. A large red button behind glass sat on the far end of the console.
NOVICHOK - EMERGENCY USE ONLY
“Fuckers,” you said before smashing it, jamming it with the butt of your weapon. You watched on screen as people started to panic and then came the screams in the hallways as the nerve gas tore through their nervous systems, quickly but oh so painfully killing them. You knew there’d be a few people that would see the flashing amber lights in the halls and get their masks on before they keeled over. Whatever.
You’d deal with those people easily enough.
The monitors showed most people had gone down, convulsing violently as they foamed at the mouth. The south hallway was clear and after checking your gun, you ducked back outside, slipping the sidearm from the guard you’d knocked out into the back of your jeans. Soldier Boy had stopped screaming, the halls eerily quiet. Still, you stepped carefully, amber flashes bouncing off the dull gray walls.
Past the bodies, you went down the far passage, taking a breath before opening the double doors. Blood stained the walls. Dried blood. Old, rusty, oxidized blood. 
“What the fuck…” you trailed off, eyes settling on where a barely conscious Soldier Boy lay restrained on the metal table in the center of the room. 
“Y/N,” he mumbled, your eyes widening briefly. He rarely spent time awake with you and the rare occasion he did he’d only ever called you curses. 
“Can you fight?” you asked, unbuckling the thick leather restraint wrapped around his right wrist. He was strong, powerful. But even he couldn’t escape when they kept him gasing him all the time. He grunted, closing his eyes. “Most of them are dead but there’s stragglers to deal with.”
“Why?” You raised an eyebrow under your mask, removing the leather restraints over his torso and left wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here. I need to get you up North,” you said, strapping the gun over your body. You helped him sit up, Soldier Boy’s body lax, littered with dark bruises. “Can you walk?”
He only stared as he slumped against your chest, face jammed against your body before mumbling, “You got great tits.”
“Jesus fucking christ,” you muttered. You grasped his shoulders, forcing him upright, Soldier Boy scowling as you barely kept his heavy body steady. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he tried to growl, coming out like a petulant child instead. You rolled your eyes, scanning the room quickly. Trays of syringes littered the room, bottles of something red inside some, a cream white liquid in another. “Fuck off.”
You dropped his shoulder, grasping his jaw hard, Soldier Boy flinching slightly at the touch. You’d deal with whatever the fuck that reaction was later. 
“I will leave you here to die you insolent little man-child. Cut. The. Shit. Now.” The hardness in his gaze stopped, an almost panicked expression replacing it. “Work with me here. What’d they do to you? Why are you the equivalent of a sack of potatoes?”
“They keep me gassed and stick the white stuff in my eyes. I think it’s novichok,” he said. He closed his eyes, slumping forward ever so slightly before flying them open. “It’s the only way they get the drugs in. Or out.”
“Out?” You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. “Later. Can you move on your own or no?”
“I’m fucked for at least a few hours. Does that answer your fucking question?” He spit out the words, his glare indicating you’d be thrown against a wall if he were capable at the moment.
“Little bastard,” you grumbled to yourself, slinging the automatic rifle across your chest. He raised an eyebrow as you sighed. “Here’s how this works. You do as I say or you can die here. Your choice.”
“Get me the hell out of this shithole,” he growled, reluctantly holding out a hand. You turned, squatting down and pulling him into a fireman’s carry. He was warm against you, two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle. “At least you ain’t a weakling.”
“Shut up. Take that handgun in my waistband and shoot anything that moves and I mean anything.” He grunted which you took as an answer. You shifted you itself. Fuck, he was heavy. Dead weight too. 
He might be able to run his mouth but that was all he had going for him. He nearly dropped the gun the second he took it out of the back of your jeans. Without another word, you exited the room, fine mist filling the corridors. Quickly, you moved down the hall, Soldier Boy grunting more than once.
“Shut up,” you whispered.
“Fuck off,” he snapped back, albeit more quietly. With gritted teeth, you continued forward, eyes flaring wide when you saw movement ahead. Gunfire rang out as you spun around, Soldier Boy hissing as loud shots fired off behind you. It went quiet, Ben dropping huffing against your back. “Thanks for using me as a fucking meat shield. That’s the only reason you busted me out, isn’t it?”
You dropped him straight on the ground, straddling his hips, not even a flicker of amusement on his face. You held up the gun, Soldier Boy scoffing. “What part of listening to what the fuck I say don’t you understand?”
“Leave me to die then, bitch.” You grabbed his jaw, pressing your thumb right under his eyes socket, his eyes narrowing. You pointed the gun at the inner corner, his eyes focused on the barrel.
“I need you to kill a supe for me. Reaper.”
“Reaper? That dumb fuck kid? Why the-” You pressed the hot barrel against his cheek, Ben growling.
“It doesn’t matter why I want him dead but I do. You will die if we stay here, Ben,” you said, tucking the gun back away. You sighed, checking the silent hallways once before re-focusing on him. “Lots of people hurt you. People here hurt you. But I am the only one that’s ever tried to protect you from something. So be quiet or I will leave.”
A grin crawled onto his face, a frown forming on yours. “You need me, don’t you sweetheart? Cut the tough guy act-”
You grabbed his throat, Soldier Boy’s eyes narrowing. “A bomb is going to drop killing all supes on the eastern seaboard. That’s us and you know what? Fuck it. Maybe I get lucky and this thing kills Reaper somehow and I don’t need you.”
“Dramatic are we?” he said as you stood upright. You got three steps down the hall when he slammed his fist against the cement floor. “Fine! I’ll shut up and kill Reaper for you. Now get me out.”
You smirked, wiping it off your face and hoisting him up once more. He stuck to his word, keeping his lips sealed as you made your way out, shooting one more guard at the front lobby area before you were in the parking lot. 
After a quick check for trackers and bombs, you picked him up off the cold pavement, sitting him in the passenger seat of your SUV.
“My suit,” he mumbled. “Need my suit.”
“Already in my trunk. I was supposed to take break you out,” you said, closing the door.
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked when you got behind the wheel, leaning over to buckle him up so he didn’t slump over.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling off your mask and tossing it in the back seat. “We need to-“
You both tensed when the night sky lit up red in the distance, a towering inferno blazing up into the atmosphere from the direction of the city.
He grabbed your hand as a shockwave barreled toward you, both of you flinching as a strange feeling washed through your bones.
But you also felt a sharp familiar zap kick in and course through your arm, straight into his hand. He pulled his hand away, staring at you. 
“What the fuck was that? Why the fuck aren’t we dead?” he asked, flexing his hand as best he could.
“I sort of…can’t die. I guess that bomb can’t kill me…or Reaper,” you mumbled, turning the car on and driving out of the compound. All the while you felt his drugged up stare. “I can’t control it. But good news for you, apparently you can’t die either when you’re touching me.”
You didn’t want to acknowledge that you felt all of his fear and pain when you’d somehow protected him. How afraid he was. How fucking alone he felt way, way deep down in a place even he didn’t touch until the moment of immediate death.
You slowed down, reaching over to hold his hand, ignoring the way he relaxed at the touch. Soldier Boy was out cold fast as the adrenaline wore off, his grasp on you too tight to slip out of.
You didn’t get far though, barely a few miles up the road when you saw people arguing outside a house, strange red streaks across their skin.
What the fuck did that bomb do?
Unfortunately for the two of you, you didn’t have to wait long to find out.
____________
A/N: Part 2 coming soon!
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laurfilijames · 3 months ago
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Breathe
Part 8
Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader
Words: 6.2k
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Cockwarming. Unprotected intercourse. Nightmare involving death by asphyxiation. Panic attack. Oral sex (female receiving).
Summary: You and Will finally discuss how to navigate your relationship, and after establishing a comfortable rhythm again, something causes a disruption to test you once more.
A/N: I am over the moon and completely floored at the response to this series and am so thankful to each and every one of you who continues to read it and be excited for it! A big thank you to all my readers as well as @spaghettificationandpretzels for cheering me through this last chapter 💗
photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
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Will opened his eyes with a smile, feeling relaxed and content, the tension in his neck and shoulders that had been constant since before he left on the op finally gone.
You were still sleeping soundly, tucked up beside him where the curves of your back meshed into his front like you were made to fit him, his arm comfortably draped over your waist.
The sheets barely covered both of your bodies, and the feel of the fan blowing against his bare skin had Will feeling like he never wanted to move, but it seemed someone else thought differently.
The loud bang of cabinet doors and the clink of dishes in the sink pulled another smile across Will’s lips, hearing Benny’s not-so-subtle announcement that he was home, and Will carefully lifted his arm off of you to check the time on his watch, seeing it was well into the morning already and that having a visit with his brother was more than overdue.
You only stirred slightly when Will lifted himself off the bed, adjusting a little as your body subconsciously searched for his, and as he pulled on his boxers he allowed himself to admire you, never able to get over how stunning you were even in your sleep, how divine you looked naked in his bed.
He closed the door quietly behind him, but with all the racket Benny was creating he wasn’t sure why he even bothered, and made his way to the kitchen, shaking his head.
Benny looked at him with a big grin on his face as he entered the room, setting the pan back in the drawer that he had just taken out.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he said through a laugh.
Will couldn’t help but laugh too, his grin stretching so wide it hurt his cheeks as he stepped toward his brother.
“You’re not fucking sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” Benny admitted, wrapping his arms around Will’s back.
Will returned his embrace, both of them hitting each other firmly on the shoulder a couple of times.
“It’s good to see you, bro,” Will said, realizing he had missed his little brother more than he thought.
“Yeah, you too.”
Will studied Benny as they pulled away from each other, assessing his brother to make sure he wasn't missing if anything was wrong with him, meanwhile fully aware of the fact that he was the one who needed an eye kept on him.
Obviously sensing Will’s feelings, Benny lifted his chin and asked in a serious tone, “How’re you doing, man?”
“I'm good…yeah. I'm good.”
“Yeah?”
Will nodded in confirmation. “Yeah.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Benny grinned, his question pertaining to you, having seen your car parked in the driveway.
Will shrugged and looked away, unable to help the smile appearing on his face.
“She showed up,” he breathed, the relief he still felt over it showing.
Benny raised his hands to prompt Will for more. “And she's still here so…”
Will nodded again, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
“So what does this mean?”
“I don't know.” Will puffed the air out of his lungs, that bit of alleviation he had just felt tainted by doubt, the realization that you still hadn’t discussed anything making him worry.
Benny covered his face with his hands, groaning loudly.
“Oh my god, you two!” He let his hands fall, looking at Will exasperatedly. “You really just got right down to business, huh?”
Will huffed out a laugh, unable to defend himself. “Yeah.”
“Well stop fucking talking to me, go and figure this shit out!” Benny shouted, shoving Will on the shoulder to turn him around and point him back in the direction of his room.
“I know! Okay!” Will chuckled as he started to move. “Will you be around today?”
“I’m gonna give you two some space and go to the gym, but I’ll be home later.”
“Okay. How did your fight go?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t yet.
Benny smirked, his head held proudly. “Beat him with a 10-8.”
“Atta boy,” Will winked, clapping his shoulder.
“See you later, bro. Glad you’re home.”
“Thanks, Ben. See ya.”
Will walked the rest of the way to his room, carefully opening the door to find you still asleep, and his heart swelled.
He took his boxers off and slipped into bed, gathering you in his arms like you had been before, your sleepy moans making him smile.
His nose nuzzled into your neck, the warm scent of your skin the best thing to ever exist, and he pressed a kiss to the spot between your neck and shoulder, moving his mouth all across and back again, not able to resist.
A lazy hum sounded from you, your body moving against his as you began to wake, your bum rubbing against his groin in a way that made him moan and grind on you.
You rolled over to face him, a soft smile dressing your perfect lips, your eyes hazy with both sleep and adoration as you greeted him.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Will breathed, the weight of almost never experiencing this again hitting him hard.
You traced the line that flanked his mouth with your finger, ghosting it over his upper lip and then down to his bottom one, the fullness of them mesmerizing. Leaning toward him, you kissed him, softly and slowly, like you couldn’t kiss him enough to make up for the time that was lost.
A flood of emotions surged through you, feeling tears sting your eyes, your throat restricting and forcing you to pull away.
You could see the concern in his eyes, and you did your best to meet them but couldn’t, your blurred gaze falling to his chest instead.
“You hurt me.”
A breath shuddered out of him as he reached up and smoothed the side of your head, desperately again and again, his forehead leaning against yours as he fought off tears of his own.
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
He continued to hold your face, his fingers clawing your hair as you both focused on breathing, his nose nudging yours as he shook his head slightly.
“I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you,” he whispered, his voice full of remorse.
“Just be here,” you muttered, taking his hand and holding it in yours, squeezing it. “I can’t go through that again, Will. You need to let me be here for you.”
He nodded, his words small when he spoke. “I know.”
You inhaled deeply, continuing to try to muster your courage to keep speaking.
“I get why…Benny told me about the nightmare – I just wish you felt you could’ve trusted me to understand. I know that I’ll never be able to fathom the things you’ve been through but I can try, Will.”
“I was so stupid,” he muttered. “Of course I trust you. I wasn’t thinking…I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared…”
The shake in his voice and the look in his eyes broke your heart, seeing him so dejected and full of shame, making your tears come out faster.
“It’s okay,” you cried, angling your face toward his more, your lips brushing.
“That nightmare was so real. I couldn't handle the thought of actually hurting you and I'm still convinced I could. You know what I did to that guy in Publix…” he explained, thinking of all the other heinous things he’d done to other human beings.
“That's not going to happen, Will. I don't believe you could ever hurt me.”
“But I did hurt you–” he choked, his eyes so full of pain.
“Will…It's okay. We're okay. I forgive you.”
You kept repeating it, hoping he would believe it, your lips moving to kiss each other tenderly.
Will separated his mouth from yours after a minute, but remained close, his eyes searching over your features as his hand broke the connection with yours, moving it up to cup your cheek and smooth his thumb over it.
“I love you,” he confessed, a surety finally held in his words.
“I love you too, Will,” you returned, a sob following, and he kissed the streaks of tears from your cheeks, eventually moving to your lips.
It wasn’t long before he was covering you with his body, kissing you breathlessly while settling between your legs, his rigid cock nudging your core.
He pushed inside you, stretching you out until you were full of him, his mouth moving off of yours to allow you to take a gasping breath, his nose nuzzling your cheek as the rest of him remained still.
“You’re my everything,” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours as you breathed together, relishing in him being inside you unmoving.
He flexed his cock, and you moaned quietly at the sensation, responding by squeezing your walls around him, your mouths beginning to tease each other again.
“I thought I’d lost you, Will.”
He shook his head, his brows knitted together. “I'm here, sweetheart.”
Will shifted to wrap his arms underneath your body, fully laying on you and holding you as close to him as he could, his cock moving within you as he adjusted making you gasp.
He stilled again, his eyes flickering up from your chest to your lips and then to your own loving gaze, breathing out before crashing his lips against yours.
You tried moving your hips, needing to feel him move inside you, only to have him press himself down harder on you to stop you.
“Shh, not yet, baby. Just let me feel you.”
He stole your air as he kissed you again, hard and claiming, his body heavy and secure on yours, nothing moving on each other but your lips as his tongue filled your mouth.
You felt his cock pulse against your walls, making you even more desperate for him, your fervor increasing wildly as you clenched around him in a tight grip.
He growled against your lips, still trying to hold off, but the feel of your hands beginning to run up and down his back, clawing and tearing at his flesh had him fighting off the urge to take you hard and fast.
As slowly as he could, Will dragged himself out of you, all but his leaking tip, and plunged back in as deep as possible, feeling your soaked hole encase him and your walls flutter around him, swallowing your whines as you writhed beneath him.
He repeated the movement, all the way out and back in again, his mouth leaving yours to travel down your neck, sucking and kissing your sensitive skin as the sound of your intoxicating moans filled the air.
His thrusts were slow but forceful, moving the bed with each blow, the build-up to this bringing you close to your climax quickly.
“I love you,” he uttered against your skin, his lips smearing across your chest as he continued to drive into you hard and purposefully.
“I-I love you too!” you wailed, on the verge of more tears as your body tipped on the edge of bliss, the claim of his love spurring your pleasure even more.
Hearing you return it seemed to encourage him too, his movements growing more powerful, his grunts like music to your ears, and feeling you were close to coming apart, he kissed you again, commanding and needy as you both sought your end.
He held you in the tightest grip as your body tensed and spasmed, bucking into you deeply as he filled you with his hot seed, continuing to move his hips until his cum was leaking out of you.
Your hands ran through his hair, both of you breathless when you halted your kissing, Will’s eyes full of emotion as he looked at you.
“I mean it, sweetheart,” he stressed. “I love you so damn much. I’m so sorry I did that to you.”
He turned his face and kissed the palm of your hand as you cupped his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard against it as you nodded in agreement.
“I know, Will. I know. I love you too.”
He smiled despite tears appearing in his eyes, leaning down to kiss you again, his breath shaking into you.
You stayed as you were for as long as you could, taking each other in as if all the ways you had memorized each other wasn’t enough to satisfy the time you were apart.
Will laid on your chest, his face turned to the side to give you a view of the way his golden eyelashes touched his cheeks, how the hair around his mouth was bleached lighter than the rest, feeling his heart beating against your stomach.
His long fingers ran patterns up and down your waist, following the curve of your hip, the veins that ran through his skin like rivers prominent on his forearms even through his tattoos.
“Where do we go from here?” you wondered out loud, playing with his hair idly, questioning whether it would be better or not to drop right back in where you were before, if it was even possible.
Will sighed, and you watched his eyebrows rise on his forehead. He didn't speak right away, the way he was carefully configuring his answer clear on his features, and after a minute, he sighed again and turned his head, pressing a kiss on your stomach.
“I don't know,” he said, honestly. “I think it might be wise not to rush things…” He paused, shaking his head slightly as he blew air out of his mouth again. “But we said that before and didn't manage that very well.”
He turned his head to look at you and chuckled while you smiled, nodding in agreement.
“I understand if you're hesitant or don't trust me,” he continued, his tone changing to be more serious. “And I can't blame you for that. I know how badly I messed up.”
He propped himself up and shifted, moving up to collect you in his arms and lay beside you on the pillows, switching positions so you rested your head on his chest instead, your lips grazing over the warm skin on his thick pecs.
The truth was that there was no way you could hesitate on loving him, your heart set on belonging to him no matter what you faced, and despite what had happened, you knew you would trust Will with keeping it safe and not breaking it again.
You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your finger reaching up to trace the line beside his mouth, knowing that even if you agreed to take things slow, there was no such thing when it came to your love.
Summarizing it all in the best way you knew how, you smiled and brought your face close to his, your lips brushing his when you spoke.
“All-in. I’m all-in, Will.”
He smiled and you saw his eyes glistening before he rubbed his nose against yours, his hand coming up to hold your face to keep you close to him.
“All-in, sweetheart.”
“Will! WILL!”
His name cut through the dense air in your piercing voice, making a shiver run down his spine, the sweat on the back of his neck feeling like drips of ice.
He looked right and left, everything black, and all he could do was listen, being as still as possible to try to figure out which direction your screams were coming from despite wanting to run as fast as he could to get to you, but all he could hear now was his cold blood pounding in his ears.
“Will!”
Again, only further away this time, and he whipped around only to continue facing complete darkness, his panic rising with each second that passed.
He started sprinting, hearing you begging for your life, your cries and struggle becoming clearer and closer as he moved.
His body hit a wall, his hands frantically searching it for something other than the smooth, hard surface, unable to find its end in his sightless hunt. Reaching a door, he turned the handle only to find it locked, immediately starting to slam his body against it to try to force it open.
Your screams increased, just on the other side, your desperation growing in knowing he was right there, but the door wouldn’t budge.
Will kicked and rammed his shoulder into it over and over, his breathing ragged and laboured as he tried to work through his panic, and finally, it gave in.
He stumbled through, his eyes frantically searching for where you should be, only to find the space where he had so vividly heard your screams completely empty.
“Will! Please!” you wailed, the sound distant again and making his stomach lurch that he couldn’t get to you.
Room after room appeared, all of them empty even though he swore he could hear you in each one, and he began yelling back for you, trying to keep you talking so he was able to follow your pained voice.
“No! No, please!” he heard you beg, your voice full of terror and quieter than it had been before, and then it was silent.
Will continued to search every room, and after opening the doors of about twenty more, he finally found you laying in the center of the room.
You were facing the other way, unmoving, your form limp on the cold, concrete floor.
His heart was in his throat, and he could barely capture a breath, stepping toward you hesitantly in fear of what he was about to discover.
His knees struck the ground and he reached for you, pulling on your shoulder to turn you over, the cold of your skin telling him exactly what he already knew.
A sob escaped his mouth before his cries filled the air, tears blurring the sight of your lifeless face, the colour of your lips darkened by death.
He pawed at you, trying to shake you awake, his mouth instinctively covering yours to try to give you his air even though he knew it was pointless.
Something cold fell against his hand and he stopped his efforts to revive you, bile rising in his throat when his eyes focused enough to see what it was.
Two silver tags were dangling from your neck, the chain wrapped so tightly around your throat that it was embedded in your flesh, your skin marked with bruises and cuts from it cutting off your air flow, the information listed in the embossed writing all things Will knew by heart.
MILLER
WILLIAM J.
196-37-5436
O POS
NONE
Will screamed himself awake, flying up in bed gasping for air, his cheeks wet with tears and his heart furiously pounding in his chest so hard he clapped his hand over it in fear it would stop or jump out.
His panic continued, realizing you weren’t in bed with him, his body shaking as he tore the twisted sheets off his legs and stood.
With the nightmare so fresh in his head, every door he passed had him feeling sick, but he pressed on, moving toward the kitchen in the dark as quickly as he could.
His feet nearly slipped on the hardwood floor from his sweat, his breathing not slowing, and a relieved gasp shuddered out of him when he stepped into the kitchen and saw you standing at the counter pouring yourself a glass of water.
The small light above the stove illuminated your half-clothed body, his t-shirt covering just enough to keep you modest, and you turned around the moment you heard him come in.
“Hey, I–,” you started, your face falling in seeing the state he was in. “Will, what happened?”
You basically threw your glass in the sink and stepped toward him, holding either side of his face where you searched his wild eyes, his breathing short and gulping in his distress.
“Will, listen to me, breathe…” you stressed, trying your best to keep calm, forcing your own breaths slowly out of your mouth to get him to follow suit.
He nodded in your hands, his eyes closing as he worked to focus, the skin around them crinkling in his efforts that almost seemed to cause him pain.
You counted slowly, your voice calm and even, feeling your heart break the longer it went on and he had only settled slightly.
“Will, look at me, I’m here,” you reminded him, exhaling again as his eyes flashed open and locked with yours, his head shaking back and forth as he swallowed hard and his broken voice echoed in the kitchen.
“It happened again–”
You gathered him in your arms, thankful when he did the same, his grip on you so tight you wondered if your ribs would crack but didn’t care, soothingly running your fingers up and down his wet back as he gripped at you like he needed to prove you were there.
“It’s okay. It’s not real.”
You repeated it over and over until he eventually relaxed against you, his mouth smearing across your neck before peppering kisses onto it, his hands still groping and pawing at your form.
He sighed out deeply as he peeled away from you, his hands running up your waist where they pulled your shirt up with them, his eyes switching to have a desperation in them that differed from before.
Will clasped your face and angled it toward him, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss, able to feel the tremble in his fingers from his lingering panic.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed.
You returned his kiss. Once, then twice.
“Are you okay?”
He leaned his forehead on yours, sighing out slowly again.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m okay. You’re okay…” he said, reassuring himself.
He kissed you again, deeper this time, drawing in a long inhale as he did.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered when he parted the seal of your lips briefly, taking another breath before crashing against them again.
You moaned into his mouth, your legs feeling weak to his advances, feeling his cock hardening against you through his boxers.
His tongue explored your mouth, his fervor increasing quickly thanks to the adrenaline coursing through him, his hands slipping under your shirt to stroke your naked sex.
“Will…” you breathed, inhaling sharply as he slid his fingers between your folds and fingered you.
He kissed down your neck and then up to your ear, his breath making your shiver, and as he hooked his fingers inside you to massage your g-spot, he grabbed your earlobe with his teeth and tugged on it, a low growl making you melt.
“Turn around, sweetheart,” he growled, not giving you the chance to comply as he guided you to face the counter before you could even move.
You planted your hands on the ledge, gripping it tightly while spreading your legs apart and hinging slightly at your hips, granting him access to where you both needed him to be.
You heard him tear down his boxers, and you gasped when you felt his cock land between your legs, nudging at your center where he dragged it back and forth, his lips landing on your neck while his hands grabbed at the hem of your shirt to lift it over your ass.
“I need you, baby,” he groaned, kissing your neck until you were squirming.
You tilted your head to expose more of you, sighing out as you relished in the feel of his lips on the space between your shoulder and nape.
“I'm right here, Will,” you assured, permitting him to do what he wanted with you while reminding him that whatever happened in his tortured mind was false.
His hand splayed out over your stomach, holding you against him as he pushed inside you, and you let your head fall back onto his shoulder as he began sliding in and out of you, his pace determined and steady.
You reached your arm up behind you, your fingers finding his hair, raking through it while he continued to kiss and suck on your neck as he fucked you, his hand that was on your belly falling to your clit where he rubbed it purposefully.
“Fuck, Will…” you moaned, your breathing growing ragged with each second that passed with him rutting into you.
His hand that wasn’t between your legs explored you everywhere else, pulling at your nipples through the worn cotton of his t-shirt, the soft plush of your breasts being squeezed in his large palm, grabbing at you desperately and thoroughly.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growled beside your ear, his thrusts increasing. “I need to feel you cream on my cock.”
His demand and the sensation of his mouth continuing to attack your neck sent you over the edge, his dick slamming against your g-spot and his fingers toying your swollen clit making you do exactly as you were told, feeling your release soak his fat cock.
Will didn’t falter, keeping his tempo with his hand planted firmly on your cunt, the only change being his breathing turning ragged and his grunting sounding louder in your ear.
“Again,” he ordered, “I want to keep feeling you.”
The tone of his voice made you gasp, your arousal pushed beyond any limits, knowing he couldn’t get enough of feeling you fluttering and squeezing and creaming around him keeping that heat billowing at the base of your spine.
You rocked to his movements, meeting him in his thrusts, equally as eager to feel him fill you up and throb inside you at the same time you lost all control again.
You tore at his forearms, clawing him frantically as you leaned back against him, relying on him to keep you upright instead of bracing yourself on the counter.
“That’s it,” he purred in your ear. “I’m right there, too. I need you to come with me.”
“Fuck!” you wailed, your pleasure spiking as his one hand squeezed your breast, plucking and pinching your hard nipple between his fingers.
“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned. “I love you so much.”
Will held you tighter, keeping you as close to him as possible as he slammed into you, his lips landing on your neck where he could feel your pulse hammering against them.
You were completely alive, breathing and writhing with life in his arms, your blood flowing in every part he touched, his hands awakening every fiber in you.
There was no questioning the falsity of his dream now, your euphoria solidifying your vitality, your body full of life as it shuddered with vigor because of him, the devastation of being the reason you wouldn’t breathe again leaving him with each second he was encased in you.
His hips stuttered as he emptied himself deep inside you, coating your walls that pulsed around him, his eyes falling closed as he began to slow his movements and relished in feeling your hand reaching up to card through his hair.
You hummed softly, the sound vibrating on his lips that he kept pressed on your neck, breathing you in as he listened to your heart thrumming strong and steadily, your body relaxing against his as you both came down to a place of calm.
When he slipped out of you, you spun around, looking up at him sweetly with the most warmth and care in your eyes.
“I love you too, Will,” you whispered, your hands laying flat on his bare chest where you smoothed them upward, holding his scruffy face in your hands. “More than anything.”
He huffed a small laugh, one corner of his mouth lifting as he gave a coy smile, making you love him even more than you thought possible.
“Are you ready to go back to bed?” you asked, wondering if his terror from his nightmare had dissipated or if the thought of closing his eyes again filled him with dread.
He hummed, looking down at the floor before back at you. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” he admitted.
“That’s okay. I’m happy to stay awake with you.” You leaned in and kissed his lips softly, pulling away only slightly, dropping your voice to a murmur. “Whatever you need from me, Will, I’m here.”
Your words held so much more than just one meaning, making the ache and residual panic in his heart settle even more, and he found he couldn’t stop staring at the vibrance of your eyes, the spirit in them helping bring him a sense of ease.
“I just need you,” he spoke, his voice quiet but rough with a mix of lust and strain from his anxiety.
Will didn’t exactly want to return to his bed, preferring to stay in the kitchen or go lay with you on the couch, but knew you had already risked enough by having sex where you did, aware that Benny could’ve walked in at any point.
Accepting it was the only option, Will sighed and held your hand, taking you with him to his room, happy with the fact that no matter where he was, being with you was where he felt safe and at home.
You went to crawl back into bed when you got inside and shut the door, but Will stopped you, tugging your hand that was still entwined with his, pulling you into him.
You smiled against his lips, your foreheads touching, and Will breathed, closing his eyes as he let his hands roam your body.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head.
His face dove to your neck, kissing a trail over your collarbone and down to your chest, his hands grabbing at your warm, supple flesh, every touch another reminder that you were very much alive.
He moved lower, sinking to his knees as he went, his mouth sucking and smearing wet kisses over your stomach and now your thighs.
Your hands wove through his hair, your breathy moans sounding above him as you anticipated the next part of you he would touch, giving him more evidence that he needed to forget the things his mind had tried to trick him into believing.
As Will met your cunt with his lips, slowly and tantalizingly licking through your folds, he vowed to spend every moment awake loving you, your body his refuge and temple to worship, your heart beating with a furious love just the same as his.
It was fairly quiet considering it was Sunday, and for that, Will was thankful.
You had already navigated the grocery store together, something he had come to appreciate more than you would ever understand, and were now making a quick stop at the hardware store.
Running errands with you put him at ease, the seemingly simple and mundane task typically a feat for him to tackle, but he knew he could face anything as long as he was with you.
“Oh, we should pop in the bakery after,” you suggested, looking out the window somewhat excitedly as Will parked in front of the hardware store beside it.
“You can run in now if you want.”
You turned your head to look at him questioningly, your eyes searching him to verify the confidence in his recommendation, clearly worried and always fully aware that he didn’t like going into stores solo.
“It’s okay, I can just go in with you and we can go together after,” you tried, only to make Will shake his head as he reached his hand over the console and took yours.
“I’m fine, I’m only grabbing light bulbs and some oil for the lawn mower, I promise I won’t hurt anyone.”
You smiled only when his own grin stretched out on his face, a look of understanding and surety appearing on your features.
“Okay, sounds good.”
You went to reach for the door handle, only to be stopped by him tugging the hand he wouldn’t let go of toward him, turning back to face him where he leaned over the center that separated the two seats.
“Not without a kiss,” he purred, looking at your lips through his long eyelashes that gleamed in the sunlight.
You smiled and met your lips with his, lingering a moment before you could get too carried away.
“See you soon, sweetheart.”
Will was thankful for his pleasant enough experience, quickly finding what he needed and reaching the cash register to check out without any interactions with anyone other than the older gentleman who owned the store and rang him through, walking out of the door that chimed as he left while tucking his wallet back in the back pocket of his jeans.
He looked up as he took a couple steps, only to stop dead in his tracks, seeing you standing outside the bakery having what looked like a too-friendly of a conversation with a man he had never seen before.
He did his best to assess the situation, trying to read the body language of both you and him, and the longer he took in the scene, the angrier he grew.
You seemed somewhat nervous or uncomfortable, touching your hair a little more than normal, taking a subtle step back as the man leaned in closer.
Your polite giggle filled the air, and the man beamed whenever you did, his eyes unashamedly flickering all over your body and constantly on your chest, making the rage inside Will bubble to the surface.
“I’d still really like to take you out for that dinner,” he heard the man say, and before Will could hesitate any longer, he was closing the distance between you.
The man smirked and tilted his head slightly, eyeing Will up and down when he approached and immediately landed his hand on the small of your back, glancing lower to watch you place your hand on Will’s stomach that rose and fell with deep breaths.
“Sorry…uh, I’m Cam,” he introduced, shooting Will a confused look as he extended his hand.
Will didn’t accept it, instead continuing to stare him down, his voice tense when he spoke.
“Did you get what you needed, sweetheart?” he asked you, still holding eye contact with the stranger he was imagining landing a right hook to his square jaw.
“Yeah, I did, I’m ready to go,” you said sweetly, a nervous shake noticeable in your voice.
Will could feel the tension coursing through you, your muscles rigid as you walked to the truck with his hand still on your back, looking at the ground until you reached the passenger door that he opened for you.
He closed it once you hopped in, glancing over at the man who was staring in your direction, Will remaining fixed in place until this ‘Cam’ finally surrendered and turned to walk away.
Will sighed as he walked around the front of the truck, getting in and closing the door, but not slamming it like he wanted to.
“Will I–” you began, stammering to explain.
“It’s fine,” he cut off, his tone sharp. “I broke up with you.”
He was more mad at himself than anything else, still unable to believe how stupid he was for having let you go, a flood of emotions running through his veins.
He breathed out slowly, nodding and closing his eyes when he felt the soft comfort of your hand cover his.
“How could I have expected it not to happen? Look at you, you're the most gorgeous woman in the world and I let you go.”
“Nothing happened,” you stated, the surety in your voice making Will turn to look at you. “I was out with Nicole and Grace and he came over to our table. He asked for my number and if I was interested in going for dinner with him. I wasn’t even thinking, I was numb…” you paused, the remembrance of your hurt plastered on your face. “I said yes but never followed through. I was in line at the bakery and he was there behind me and said hello.”
Will nodded, relieved at your words, but still found it difficult to come up with his own.
He swallowed hard and looked straight ahead out the windshield at the people passing by on the sidewalk, remembering all too well how it felt to know his ex was cheating on him every time he deployed, yet never once did he feel as possessive and threatened as he did now.
“You have nothing to worry about, Will,” you assured, squeezing his hand three times, giving a soft smile when he finally looked over at you. “I love you. I only want you, and that was the same even when you weren’t with me.”
Will leaned over and kissed you, hard and claiming, his hand holding the side of your face in a grip that told you just as much as his kiss did.
There was a mix of things in his wild, cerulean eyes when he pulled away from you, making your heart hammer even faster in your chest.
“I don’t think I’ll ever deserve you, sweetheart,” he began. “But I will spend every second trying to.”
---
Part 9
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