#I'm always struck by this shot
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ltcdrmcgarrett · 1 year ago
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Unnecessarily big gifs of Steve McGarrett [34 of ?]
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exhuastedpigeon · 29 days ago
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Sometimes I sit back and think about how almost all of the most insane and unhinged stuff about Buddie is stuff that, before getting into 9-1-1, I thought was fanon.
I started watching at the end of s6 and binged watched s1-s6 and I thought I was getting into another show where two guys stand near each other and the fandom ran with it and instead I got Buddie. I was sitting there watching being like.. wait this is all in the actual show? I thought it was all fan created stuff.
-> Eddie's introduction being set to "Whatta Man"? I thought that was a fan edit. -> Buck getting bashful after Eddie says "You can have my back any day" felt like something you'd see in fanon until you watch it ant realize it's canon. -> The entire Christmas elf scene -> Eddie holding Buck's hand while Buck is trapped under the ladder truck -> "There's no one in the world I trust with my son more than you" with Ed Sheeran playing over it??? CANON???? -> "Wanna go for the title" -> Buck digging at the earth like he could get to Eddie through 40 feet of mud is canon???? -> Eddie seeing flashes of Chris and Buck while he was buried under ground was canon and not an edit (this one blew my mind I'm not gonna lie to you). -> Chris ran to BUCK when he was mad Eddie was dating someone. -> The whole "construction on sunset" scene being that domestic blew my mind too. What do you mean that was actually in the show. -> The entire shooting scene? I genuinely can't believe we got that one shot of them just staring at each other in slow motion -> "Just say with me" -> THE WILL??? I truly thought that was fanon until I watched it with my own two eyes. -> Buck and Chris spending time together without Eddie (Eddie's line about Buck taking Chris to the zoo all the time in s5 I was like.. I've read this fic before) -> Buck canonically worrying about Eddie's health and mental health in s5? How is that canon and not fanon? -> Chris calling Buck during Eddie's breakdown truly blew my mind. That was in canon. When Chris was scared and worried about his dad he called Buck! -> THE LOVE HEART BUCK DREW?? THAT WAS CANON?!? -> The small moments we get of them (both together and with Chris) that just have a different vibe than when they're hanging out with other characters. Again I thought that was fanon and it turns out, nope it's just canon. -> Eddie running up the ladder without a safety line to get to Buck (screaming Buck's name) when Buck was struck by lightening. -> EDDIE CALLED BUCK COWBOY! THAT HAPPENED IN CANON TOO?! -> Eddie yelling "DO MORE" when the get Buck to the hospital after the lightening. -> Poker night? The same episode when all the canon couples were on dates Buck and Eddie actually got dressed up and Eddie took Buck to a secret poker game? IN CANON! That isn't fanon either??!? -> Buck's entire "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" moment in 704. He was about to be kissed by another man and he said Eddie's name, what? 7 times? -> Buck being SO nervous about telling Eddie about his date with Tommy. Like just freaking out for an entire episode. -> THE BACHELOR PARTY?!? Those two being in cahoots is another thing that I thought was fanon at first and then you get moments like that and you're reminded it's canon. -> Buck being who Eddie turns to when he needs parenting support because he sees Buck as a co-parent of some sort. I still can't believe that's canon. Like in the text of the show Eddie has turned to Buck for parenting support multiple times. -> Buck being there when Chris left with his hand on Eddie's shoulder. Again, so insane that it's canon.
Anyway, this list is in no way comprehensive since there's a lot of other stuff in canon that I thought was fanon, but my god the list is already so long I don't think I need to add more. I didn't even touch on the casual touches and the way they're almost always looking at or for each other when they're in scenes together.
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chuluoyi · 9 months ago
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HAPPY MARRIAGE
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- nanami kento x reader
“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
genre/warnings: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!
note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3
listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
general masterlist
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No divorce ever comes easy.
When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.
When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.
Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.
“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—
“Gojo, you prick!”
Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"
Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”
"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"
"Wha—"
"Because of you!"
"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"
You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"
Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.
"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."
Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.
He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"
You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"
"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"
"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"
You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.
And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.
. . .
He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.
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More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.
Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.
Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.
Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.
“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”
Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...
“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”
“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”
He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.
“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”
"Nanami-san, you okay?"
He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."
"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.
Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."
Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.
Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."
Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.
It might verge on invading his privacy, but—
"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."
To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."
"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."
"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."
"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"
Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.
"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."
"But still... now—"
To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:
"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."
Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."
Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”
In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.
It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.
“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”
Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.
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It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.
"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"
You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...
And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."
That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.
"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"
You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.
"I'm fine."
"Oh, that's good then."
Silence. This was the absolute worst.
Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.
He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"
You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."
Darn it. Another dry reply.
"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."
"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."
"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."
Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.
"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.
It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.
"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.
Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?
"I can take care of myse—"
"That's a whole load of bullshit!"
Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?
The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.
“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”
"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"
Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.
Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—
Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.
Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.
"Oiii, Nanami!"
He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.
"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"
"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."
“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”
“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”
What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”
But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"
"What exactly is she not good with?"
"Everything? You never ask her."
This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.
"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."
With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—
He knew you were there, hearing all of this.
Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."
. . .
There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.
But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.
But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.
By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.
Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.
You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.
At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.
Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.
This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.
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If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.
Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.
"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"
And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.
Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."
"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"
For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.
"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"
Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.
Until—
"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"
...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
You're hurt?
"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"
Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.
"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.
"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"
"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.
At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.
Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?
This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—
To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.
Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—
Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?
Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.
Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.
And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—
Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—
Huh, what?
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The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.
"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.
His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.
“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”
“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”
“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”
“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”
“Gojo did—”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”
You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”
“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”
If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”
He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.
Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?
Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”
"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."
"Y/N, you're missing the—"
"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"
Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.
"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"
"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"
"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"
"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"
You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.
But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.
Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.
"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"
"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.
It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.
Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?
. . .
And that was when he decided it.
He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.
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Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.
You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.
After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."
But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."
You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.
At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—
"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.
Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.
"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.
"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."
Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.
"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."
Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?
"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."
Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.
"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.
"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"
"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."
And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—
"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."
The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.
There was only one answer you had in mind.
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Five years later
"Yes! Yes! Yay!"
Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.
The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.
The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.
As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.
"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.
"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"
"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.
Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"
"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."
"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."
"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."
Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.
Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...
And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.
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cjayius · 7 months ago
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MAGNETIC — PARK SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS. sunghoon had been stressed for weeks due to their comeback, and an argument with you makes him say really hurtful things, whether they were true or not. but at the end of the day, he knows you love him, and thats really all that matters to sunghoon.
pairing. idol!sunghoon x f!reader wc. 0.4k tw. kissing , slight angst , hoon and reader are fighting genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE )
the tension between you and sunghoon had been building for days. sunghoon barely spent time with you anymore. he was always at work, practicing for his new comeback, and when he was home, he was asleep.
of course, this was not sunghoon's fault at all. it's just that recently your schedules weren't aligning, and you'd rather be occupied than stay home waiting for your boyfriend, so you signed up for more work hours.
this arrangement led to the two of you being able to meet only once or twice in two weeks; you saw sunghoon less often, and you talked to him even lesser.
sunghoon wasn't stupid. he could tell something was wrong. his girlfriend had stopped responding to his messages, and this past month she had seemed off, but whenever he asked her about it, she brushed him off.
it started with a simple misunderstanding, as most arguments do. sunghoon had made a passing comment that struck a nerve, and before you knew it, the two of you were exchanging harsh words, each one stinging more than the last.
" you never listen to me ! " sunghoon's voice was sharp, you could hear the frustration oozing from his voice.
" i do listen, sunghoon, " you shot back, your own voice tinged with irritation, " you never take my opinions seriously ! "
the argument escalated quickly, fueled by the pent-up frustration and unspoken grievances. you both said things you didn't mean, and your words had cut deeper than you'd intended.
you resorted to sitting far from him, on the other end of the couch, refusing to communicate. sunghoon scoffed at your state, " you're always so quiet when it actually matters. you don't even care about us. "
his tone was accusing, and had unknowingly begun to dredge up insecurities you'd tried to bury. suddenly, the argument wasn't just about the disagreement at hand, you could tell that this had been on his mind for a while.
after a few minutes of staring, he was still met with silence from you. sunghoon stormed out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in your chest.
hours passed in silence, but the argument hung heavy in the air. you tried to focus on other things, but your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon.
just as you were beginning to retire to the bedroom, the front door creaked open, and there stood your boyfriend, obviously surprised that you were still here.
he sighed, walking over to the kitchen counter behind you, pouring himself a glass of water. " i thought you wanted some space ? " he said, voice laced with annoyance.
you glanced up, you had spent enough time alone. " i don't need space, " you replied softly, voice barely above a whisper. " i need you, hoon. "
for a moment, there was silence, then, without another word, sunghoon crossed the room in quick strides, pulling you into his arms with a surprising tenderness.
" i'm sorry. " you smiled against his chest, as he whispered an apology in response to yours.
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theereina · 23 days ago
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Buy Her Books📚 and Eat Her Pussy🐈
Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +1.9K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Erik, orgasm denial, pure filth
A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.
A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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Of course, Erik didn't know the monster he created. Last night, he had given his girlfriend Amelia his credit card and told her to buy her books. Amelia was immediately struck by decision fatigue. Her TBR list was well over 100 books at this point. When she whined about not knowing what books to choose, Erik told her to buy them ALL. Amelia initially laughed at Erik, not taking a word he said seriously; however, the look he gave her let her know he was beyond serious.
He had given her the card the night before. She sat up all night anxiously going through her TBR. She narrowed the list to 52 must-haves and 67 maybes, not including the 34 she deleted after reading the recent reviews.
Amelia had spent all morning in her favorite local bookstores and Barnes & Noble. She became flustered once she started realizing how much she would be paying. So, she called Erik and asked for his “approval” again. He responded with a laugh and comment about letting her do it again. This had Amelia excited at the thought.
While in the stores, she would first search for the books on her must-haves. Then, she would look for the maybes. She would scan over the synopsis and maybe the first page before deciding. She did this same routine in every store she went into.
After such a strenuous morning, Amelia was exhausted but excited upon returning home. She knew exactly the book she wanted to read first. She had showered and changed back into her nightgown. She climbed onto the bed and searched through the hoard of books. Amelia had tried her best to keep the books separated by genre to help her sort them.
There it was— a book she had wanted since its release five months ago. Amelia was back in her happy place as she lay on her tummy across Erik's bed, facing the headboard. She held the book and began kicking her feet in bliss. She opened the book and began to read the prologue before remembering that she didn't want any distractions. She grabbed her phone and placed it on DND. Tossing her phone somewhere behind her, she began to read again.
4 hours later
Unbeknownst to Amelia, hours had passed. Many hours. Her phone was still on DND, so she was unaware of Erik's 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages. Unfortunately, she also didn't know he was on his way home.
As Amelia lay reading, Erik arrived at his home. He was pissed. Amelia had ignored him all day. He was a little paranoid about these kinds of situations considering the life he lived before meeting her.
Erik unlocked the door quietly checking for any signs of forced entry. He slowly crept through the house. As he approached the back rooms, the only light visible was coming from under his bedroom door. He could hear what sounded like Amelia laughing, but he was too unsure. He unsheathed his Glock and held it in his hands. As he inched closer to the door, he quieted his steps. Putting his stealth skills to use, he leaned against the door using the weight of his body to stop it from creaking as he opened it.
Awaiting him was an exhausted Amelia. She was facing away from him still completely unaware of his presence. He had always told her she had the self-awareness of a toddler.
He slowly placed his gun into his waistband. Trying his hardest not to startle or alert her to his presence, he crept up to the foot of the bed. He grabbed Amelia's left foot and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “Princess!” Erik says flipping Amelia over onto her back causing the book to slip from her hands. “Erik!” she screamed. She was still unsure how this man could toss her around so easily.
“Busy?” he asked folding his arms across his chest. “Umm…,” Amelia said sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. She leaned up to give Erik an apologetic kiss. “Where's your phone?” he asked uncrossing his arms.
Amelia turned around and began searching for the phone in the bed. Piles of books were everywhere— an assortment of thrillers, romance, erotica, mystery, fantasy, and more. She knew it was there somewhere. She found it and looked at the screen. 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages from “Daddy😈”. She turned back around to see Erik cracking his knuckles.
Uh oh
“So, you were reading all day? Is that why you were ignoring me, baby girl?” Erik said caressing her cheek. “Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just really…” she said putting her hands on his shoulders. “That's unacceptable, and you know that,” he said putting his right hand on the side of her neck. He used his thumb to stroke over the front of her throat., teasing her. Amelia swallowed because she knew what was coming— a punishment fit for his princess.
Erik stood there staring at Amelia's throat. “Where's the book you were just reading?” Erik asked stilling his movements. She pointed behind her to the only opened book on the bed. She was growing anxious by the second. Amelia began to whimper in desperation, trying to craft a scheme to escape this.
Erik's eyes shot up to meet Amelia's now brimming with tears. “Amelia, baby?” Erik lulled. “Yes, Daddy?” she asked hoping this would absolve her of her discretions. Considering that it was an honest mistake, she hoped he would be lenient. “Shut that shit up,” he said in the most level tone. He didn't raise his voice a decibel, but Amelia knew.
“Since you wanna read so much, read to me. I wanna see what's got you so distracted,” Erik said leaning over grabbing the book and handing it to Amelia.
4 orgasms denials later
Amelia was fighting for her life. Erik was eating her out from the back and forcing her to read the book aloud simultaneously. Every time she slipped up or stopped he lit her ass up like a Christmas tree.
His tongue sliding up and down her folds over and over again was driving her insane. She continued to read while breathing out ragged breaths. He was positioned right behind her on the bed. His tongue was warm and slick from her juices.
Erik leaned up and sat directly between her legs. He used his arms to flip Amelia over onto her back in one swift move. She yelled out in shock. Amelia looked down pleading to Erik with her eyes. He scoffed at her attempt to use her puppy dog eyes against him. He sat back and looked at Amelia's sloppy pussy and swollen clit. He took his hand and slid it up and down her slit, coating his fingers in her cum.
He brought his hand to his mouth and began to suck on his fingers. Amelia stopped to stare at Erik in awe. Without even losing focus on his task at hand, he used his other hand to smack Amelia's already swollen clit. “I didn't tell you to stop!” he barked while removing his fingers from his mouth. Amelia tried to continue reading but could feel Erik shifting between her legs.
Amelia turned the page and peeked under the book. She could see Erik's hand lining up with her pussy again. She felt his middle and index fingers slide into her wet pussy with a squelch. She moaned out and clenched her pussy around his fingers. He began to drive his fingers upward against her g-spot. He was merciless while fingerfucking her.
She started stuttering and closed her eyes too caught up in bliss. Erik used his free hand to smack the outside of her thigh. The sound echoed through the room. The thickness of her thighs provided no cushion for the blows he was dishing out. If anything, it was giving him more to work with. Her ass was already obliterated— red, swollen, and covered in welts.
They had been at this for almost an hour because of how well he was dragging out his teasing. She was tired of being denied but knew she held no power in this situation. All she could do was take it.
He leaned over Amelia's body pushing her knees up to her chest. How did he expect her to read like this?
His fingers were still punishing her pussy. He looked at Amelia and began to speak, “I don't hear you!” Amelia tried to read, but she felt like her voice was strained. The way he had her folded in half with his body holding her legs and thighs in place was making it hard to breathe. “Daddy, please. I can't…,” she whined out. “You can, and you fuckin' will. Do you hear me?” Erik said slowing his fingers down inside of her. He knew Amelia's weakness— slow strokes and deep pokes. He was using his fingers to massage her insides. He was kneading her pussy like dough.
Erik's heavy breathing was overshadowed by the sounds of Amelia's moans and her pussy squelching. It sounded like someone was flicking their fingers under a running faucet. Amelia dropped the book on her stomach, and Erik's hand instantly smacked her thigh twice. “Pick…it…the…fuck…up!!!” Erik growled through gritted teeth.
Amelia reached for the book. She tried her best to continue to read as Erik's fingers drove her insane. Erik lifted her left leg and pushed it back against her chest. He angled his body so that he was slightly to the side of Amelia's body. He leaned over and began to suck her clit while continuing to finger her pussy.
The words were leaving her mouth, but she wasn't attempting to comprehend or remember what she read. Erik removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. He moved so that his face was right between Amelia's legs. His tongue thrust inside her pussy. “Fuck. I'm… I'm gonna… Oh, I'm ‘bout to cum!” Amelia screamed. “Oh, really? I don't…remember you…askin’ me..for shit!” Erik said in between licks. “May I please cum? I can't take it anymore!” Amelia said her eyes filled with tears. “You betta!” Erik said slapping her clit with his free hand.
That was all it took to push Amelia over the edge. Her legs locked onto Erik as her belly seized. Her juices flooded Erik's fingers as he pushed them back in, leaking all over his hand and down his arm. He opened his mouth and covered her pussy so that he could catch everything. Amelia's moans turned to pained grunts. She was done.
Erik released his mouth from her pussy. He let go of her thick thighs causing them to fall like dead weights onto the bed. Amelia pulled her legs away from Erik and rolled over onto her side. He smacked her ass cheek while grabbing it roughly. “Good girl. You gone ignore Daddy again?” He asked leaning over to kiss Amelia's shoulder. “No, sir,” Amelia mumbled. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Erik replied standing from the bed.
“Get some rest, princess. Daddy's not done with you yet,” Erik said removing his shirt and heading towards the bathroom. “What?” Amelia said, jolting up from the bed. “Dafuck did you just say to me?” Erik snapped spinning around to meet Amelia's weak and apologetic eyes. “Nothing,” Amelia said as she let her head hit the bed again. “Since you got so much mouth, you got an hour. I know exactly what the next punishment is,” Erik said grinning.
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Taglist: @kirayuki22 @revealingco @nahimjustfeelingit-writes
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago
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hello bunny! I love the concept of your bakery it’s literally so cool
do you think I could get chocolate cake & honey cruller with a side of espresso shot?!? with carlos sainz? tyy!
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? then hit up the bakery! we're always open! and thank you to this anon for a great suggestion! a little bit of size kink and some dirty talk, now that's what i'm talking about! i hope you enjoy the fic!
chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, dirty talking, (slight) size kink, thigh fucking, sick fic
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there was something about how vulnerable you looked when you ha d a cold. you poor thing, sick within the first week of summer break! how unfair! but, carlos wasn't going to shy away from his lover at her weakest.
so he followed you like a shadow most of the day in the house you shared. if you wanted to move from the bedroom to the living room, he'd grab your blankets and bring them to the couch. if you wanted to go to the kitchen to get some ginger tea, he was right behind you, making sure that you didn't have any problems.
he let you rest against him, or prop your feet up on his lap. and while he was being the perfect boyfriend, something deep was clawing inside of him. the sight of you so reliant on him, made his cock stir.
carlos wanted to fuck that sweet pussy of yours. it had been on his mind since he came home and found you bundled up on the couch. you had swapped from wearing his t-shirts to just a sports bra because the heat of the sickness was making you uncomfortable.
so very clearly he could see the lines of your body. the softness in your stomach and your cute breasts were on full display. he wanted to sink his teeth into you. it was painful for him.
it all came to a head when you were curled up in bed with him. he was on his phone. you shifted a little and made a small moaning noise. it struck a cord with him as you peeked out of the blankets.
"are you okay, mi amor?" he asked. as he looked down at you, trying to ignore the erection in his sweatpants.
you nodded, "yeah, you're looking a little flushed, honey." you reached out from your blanket nest and went to touch his face gently, "are you getting sick too?"
"no, no." he said, "i'm not sick. i just want to fuck you, mi amor." he admitted, "i know you're sick, but i want to feel you." he brushed hair out of your face. he knew that he couldn't keep secrets from you, it was impossible. he remembered the time that he had to keep your surprise party a secret and he felt like he was going to die.
you blinked up at him from your nest of blankets, you said, "i don't know if i can take it inside me right now."
he pulled the blankets away from the lower half of your face and said, "you don't have to do anything, beautiful. just lie there and i'll use your thighs. but, i need your permission." he rubbed your cheek, it felt warmed under his touch.
carlos was a sucker for consent, he was the type to think that the more consent the better. so even if he wanted it badly, he would stop himself if you said no.
you pulled the blankets from your body, exposing your almost bare chest and barely covered bottoms. your hair was a mess and you looked obviously sick. carlos wanted to bite his fist to keep himself together.
you looked at him before you coughed a little, "you can carlos." you said with a smile, "you didn't have to ask."
he took you by the face and kissed you on the nose, "no, no. i gotta ask, i need to know how sick you are. i never want to force myself onto you."
you smiled a little, "then feel free to use my thighs, carlos. i trust you. okay? i love you."
"i love you too." he said softly as he put you onto your stomach with your hips up. as much as he'd love to sink his cock into your pussy at the angle you were in, he had to be careful of you for now.
he got his cock out of his sweatpants, and then got your naked. in all fairness the lack of clothes felt nice on your hot body. he used his spit to lube up his cock before he spread your thighs a little with his to slip his cock between your soft flesh.
he felt a shudder run through him, "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day." you had been on his mind since he woke up, after he got you some medicine for your cold, he had thought about you neediness. it made him so painfully turned on.
you whined into the pillows as your back arched a little bit. you wanted him, but knew that it would all take too much out of you. you were supposed to be overcoming the cold, as badly as you wanted to be fucked by your loving boyfriend.
carlos loved he feeling of your soft thighs around his cock. not the most ideal position, but he'd take what he could get. he wanted to feel close to his precious girlfriend. he could feel the tingle of heat in his body as he moved against you.
you laid under him so pretty, your cute little moans between sneezes and coughs. it was so painfully cute. it was cute in a way that made carlos swear he saw stars as his achy cock leaked pre cum all over your soft thighs.
"i forget how small you are sometimes." he admitted, "you're so tiny compared to me. no wonder you need my help when you're sick. it just ravages you. need your big strong boyfriend to protect you, my love." he groaned as he continued to move.
you held onto the covers and let out a hearty cough before carlos leaned over you and kissed you on your flushed cheek. you croaked, "thank you, honey."
"of course, of course. you take such good care of me. i might as well take good care of you too. do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe."
you felt his love and moaned under his touch. you promised yourself when you were feeling less achy and sick, you'd get your own orgasm too. you knew that carlos would make sure that he got a few dozen out of you.
your thighs were so cute, so sweet around his cock. it was different than having regular sex with you. but it curbed an ache in his gut.
"shit, mi amor. that's it. your thighs feel so good." he panted as he moved against you. his hands still on your hips as he rubbed against your thighs. he knew he was getting close and picked up the pace to reach his climax.
his pre-cum was already making a huge mess on your body as he dragged his cock up against you. he panted how much he loved you until he felt the climax fully over take him. with a few heavy thrusts, he finished between your thighs.
"ah. carlos." you whimpered.
"i know, i know." he groaned as he got himself over that hill. cum spurted out all over your skin. he slowed down, his cum was stuck to your stomach and pussy. he pulled out and you got onto your stomach so it didn't even up all over the covers. even though a lot of it was dripped onto the sheets.
he got up and grabbed a towel to wipe you down. he admired your naked body and the steady rise and fall of your chest. his hands then grazed your soft skin and he went in to kiss you on the lips.
"how was that?" you asked.
he nodded, "perfect. god, you're so perfect. mi ángel. my little sick angel." he kissed you once more. he got his cock back into his sweatpants before he pressed his weight on top of you. his strong arms around you.
eventually it turned into spooning and his legs tangled up in yours. as he held you, he winced when you coughed violently. he kissed you on the neck and whispered a promise, "i'll take care of you, my love. anything you need, is yours."
you replied, feeling sleepy again, "i believe you, you've already done so much for me." you yawned and turned over in his arms to press your face into his chest.
he chuckled, "i only try to match what you do for me. now get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kissed you once more, as a promise. you take care of him and he takes care of you, no matter what. <3
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httpdwaekki · 5 months ago
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fixation | l.f.
summary: you and felix get high before tensions start to rise and who are you to deny your favorite sunshine.
wc: 2.2k
warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY (minors and ageless blogs WILL be blocked), both felix n the reader are high, smut, nipple play, clit licking/sucking, switch (both), fingering, ddlg (if you really squint), felix calls the reader mama (it felt right in the moment idk how i'm feeling about it), probably more read at your own risk.
a/n: inspired by @felixknow ‘s hannie’s🍒 fixation fic. idk how i’m feeling about this one chat, but i’m kinda obsessed with it at the same time. i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.
hannie’s vers. | my library
please consider donating to this fundraiser!
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(images are not mine! credit to owners!)
felix was known for his love of physical touch.
you literally could not find him not touching someone in some sort of way. so much so that you give him the unoriginal title of ‘cuddle bug.’ now this was also true tenfold when he was high.
anytime you got high with him, he’d always somehow find himself on top of you, and 9 times out of 10, with his head on your boobs.
you both were sat  on your bed, a couple of hits deep, when he feels the need to touch you. you were propped up on some pillows on your side, face smushed into a random plushie as you were invested in whatever youtube video was on your phone.
he makes his way over to you from the other side of the bed. he inserts himself in the little space between you and your phone cause you to lean back.
he pushes you fully in your back, before flooping down onto you, his head on your tits. you thought nothing of it, you going back to your video, felix mindless scrolling on twitter. 
a few minutes go by before felix lets out a laugh. he turns his phone to you, showing you something he found scrolling. “this is me.” what was it? literally just a picture of tits, a meme of spongebob smiling big and the caption ‘me when boob’.
“no shot you’re looking at other boobs while laying on mine” you tease. he sits up to defend himself but you won’t here it “foul! foul i’ll tell you! are mine not good enough for you?” 
you were enjoying this too much, felix’s freckled face was red the more flustered he got. “no no! i love your boobs! they’re the best!” you kept egging him, finding it cute as he tried to defend himself.
“suuure they are, i’m sure you tell all the girls that.” unbeknownst to you, you struck a cord. you had forgotten how sensitive the precious sunshine became when he was inebriated.
“no, that’s not true.” he mumbled, causing you to sit up. “hey hey, lix, i’m joking bug, i’m sorry.” you rub his thigh, hoping to soothe him.
he looks over at you with a pout. “don’t do that.” he playfully hits you, pulling a giggle from you. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you squeal, as he toss both your phones away before he throws more playful hits your way.
you throw yourself back, attempting to protect yourself from his attacks. eventually he halts his attacks, finding himself straddling your hips, leaning over you, both of you breathing slightly heavier. you both feel something shift, the tension becoming thicker . 
“you know, i think i deserve something special for you being mean.” your mind hazy not just from the weed but now felix’s presence over you.
“what do you have in mind?” you ask softly. not breaking eye contact, he brings one hand up to cover your clothed tit, giving it a light squeeze. “i think you should let me show you how much love them.” his deep voice sending shockwaves through your system. 
you give him a soft nod, keeping your eyes on his. you had taken your bra off almost as soon as both of you had entered your apartment, you hated the way the underwire felt, especially when he laid on them. 
so you could feel every agonizing movement he made, brushing your senstive bud each time. you watch as he brings himself down, making himself eye level with the now hardened bud.
he brushes his thumb over it, revealing it through the fabric. he takes the bud in his mouth over your shirt, keeping eye contact with you, catching every glimpse of your face he can get.
he alternates between sucking it and flicking his tongue around it. he brings his hand to your other tit, making that peak hard on contact.
the combined stimulation, caused you to let out a soft moan. he pulls away from you, causing a whine to leave you.
“does that feel good mama?” you nod your head, brain too fuzzy to form words. you were sure it was the weed but something about your mind already hazy made this feel that much better.
he places a kiss to the wet peak before reaching down, and pulling at the hem of your shirt, “lean up for me.” he taps the side of your boobs with his free hand. you knew deep down he only did that to see you tit jiggle a bit.
he pulls the shirt off as you lean forward, tossing it somewhere in the room. he kisses the nipple he has had been sucking for the past minute or so before moving to the other one.
he places a kiss to it once again before taking it in his mouth fully. you let out a breathy moan, finally feel his mouth on you. he lets out a moan, sucking the hardened bud happily. you felt like you were on cloud 9, you wrapped your arms around him, one around his shoulder the other in his hair.
he grazed your nipple with his teeth causing you to let out a squeak. “lix please.” you begged, your thighs pressing together. “what’s wrong, hm? you feeling needy.” you pout at his words nodding your head again.
“don’t worry mama, i got you.” he smiles, before taking your nipple between his teeth once more.
you let out a whimper, his voice and actions taking over your senses completely. your hands fisting his soft locks as he continues his work. “lix please.” 
he ignores your pleas, simply too invested in softly sucking your chest. he becomes dazed, cheek pressing against your soft flesh as he relaxes into you. “god, you’re fucking perfect.” he says releasing your nipple for a moment.
he gives it a soft blow before giving it one last lick and kiss before moving to the other side once more.
he melts into you once again, his cheek pressed to you as he lazily sucks. he had his hand playing with your other boob, pulling yet another whine from you.
“baby boy,” you moan, head falling back at the stimulation. “as pretty as you look with my nipple in your mouth i need something more.” he pulls back, pout evident on his freckled face.
“but they feel so nice to play with.” his hands still pawing at them, rolling your nipples between his fingers. you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers. “i know baby but i think i’m gonna go insane if you don’t do something else in the next 10 seconds.” 
his cheeks flush before you pull him down to you. you capture his lips in a feverish kiss, taking one of your hands to card through his soft strands. he moans into your mouth as you gently tug at them, scratching his scalp softly.
his free hand makes its way to the side of your breast, playing with it once more. “have i just unlocked an obsession for my boobs in you.” you ask, pulling away from him, breathing heavy.
he gives you a confused look, “what do you mean just unlocked? i have my face in your tits half the time for a reason.” he says like it’s obvious.
you let out a giggle as he leans down, placing kisses on your jaw before making his way down. he stops at your boobs once again. “felix i swear to god i won’t let you play on them again.” you threaten, cause him to shoot up.
“that seems a bit drastic no?” you roll your eyes, “i don’t care, please.” you whine, feeling yourself going insane at the lack of stimulation. “okay, okay, i’m sorry.” he places one last kiss to each nipple before making his way down.
he trails a bunch of kisses across your soft tummy, one to each hip bone before pulling down your shorts. “fuck angel,” he breathes as he spreads your legs, staring at the wet patch on your light blue panties.
he places a kiss to it before rubbing small circles with his thumb. “ah.” you moan, at the slight stimulation. “lixie, please.” your mind is so far gone and he’s barely touched you. between him and the weed, it was fucking intoxicating.
“i know baby, i know,” he reassures, his voice dropping an octave or two. he’s rubbing smalls circles to your clothed clit, mesmerized by the growing wet patch darken the fabric.
“all this because of me?” he asks, looking back to you. you nod, pout present on your lips, “all you lixie.” you mumbled. he places once last kiss to the wet patch before removing those as well.
“look at this pretty pussy hm?” he spreads your lips apart, eyes sparkling as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.
he licks a long stripe from your wet entrance up to your bundle of nerves. he latches onto it, giving it a harsh suck. “ah! fuck.” you moan, back arching as you reach for the closest thing for you to hold, which happened to be a stuffie.
you stuff your face in its tummy and felix expertly plays with your swollen clit. you turn your head to the side moaning into the soft toy and he slips a finger in.
he pulls away, but his finger keeps thrusting into you. “no, no, my sweet girl, let me hear you baby.” his free hand rubbing your inner thigh, as he places kisses all around your clit.
“ lixie,” you cry, turning to look at him while tucking the plushie into your chest. “i know mama, am i making you feel good?” he asks between kisses.
“yes, yes, it feels so good, more please.” you beg, you needed more, you needed your senses completely overwhelmed by him.
he adds a second finger before completely taking your clit in his mouth once more. “ah,” you cry, back arching at the added stimulation. “lixie please, don’t stop.” 
the weed in your system was making everything feel euphoric. he takes the hand that was rubbing soothing circles to your thigh to spread you out, giving him easier access to your pretty clit.
you moan, your hand coming up to squeeze your tit, finger brushing your peaked bud.
“look at you,” he pauses for a moment to flick your clit once more. “so gorgeous for me,” he gives the bundle a suck before grazing his teeth against the nerves, pulling a high pitched moan from you.
“sounding so pretty for me hm?” he speeds up his fingers, curling them into that gummy spot, sending you into a state of pure bliss. “ah!” you scream, breathing heavy, head thrown back.
“fe-felix, p-please, i’m gonna c-cum.” you manage to stutter, your senses fully overtaken by him. “yeah? my pretty girl gonna cum?” he slips a third finger in, causing your eyes to roll back into you head.
“yes, yes, please, li-lixie, i can’t-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, it was feeling almost too good but you needed your release more than air in that moment.
he ignores your comment. “my baby playing with her pretty tits for me,” he blows on your clit, causing you to squeeze and brush your sensitive nipple. “play with your nipple for me baby.” you follow what he says, letting out a pornographic moan.
“felix p-please.” you cry, tears collecting in your eyes as the coil in your tummy becomes tighter and tighter. “come on angel, show me how good i’m making you feel.”
his fingers become impossibly faster, his mouth attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth while his tongue flicks it.
you scream at the stimulation, your hips rocking against his face, chasing your release. plushie in a death grip to your chest and you roll your nipple between your fingers.
“felix!” you moan as the coil snaps, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. he works you through your high, slowing his fingers but not stopping them.
your clit still in his mouth as he overstimulates you. your body convulses as the shockwaves run through you. “l-lix please, it’s too m-much.” you whimper, body shaking hiding your face once again. 
his stills his fingers, pulling his mouth off you to give your clit a few loving kisses. “so pretty for me angel.” he whispers between kisses. 
“l-lixie.” you call out to him, needing to feel him pressed against you. he looks up at you, making grabby hands to him making him smile.
he carefully pulls his digits out, pulling a whimper from you in the process. he gives your clit a few more kisses, causing your legs to shake involuntarily.
he makes his way up, kissing your tummy and of course, each nipple and even giving one a cheeky suck. 
once he makes his way up you, laying on top of you, plushie squished between you, wrapping your legs and arms around him, pulling him close. he giggles at your cuteness before giving you a loving kiss.
“i love you mama.” he mumbles into the kiss. you smile against him, “i love you more lix.” you pull him tighter to you, both of you falling in a quick, peaceful slumber.
(and yes he does wake you up later, mouth attached to your nipple once again.)
do not repost
p.s. my taglist is open if you would like to be added! just send me an ask <3
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lilsmv1 · 7 months ago
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orange cat - OP81
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Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?
Word count: 1k
London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.
For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.
At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."
Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.
But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.
Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.
"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."
I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.
"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.
"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.
From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.
As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.
Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.
But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.
One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.
A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.
Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.
One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.
"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."
"I'm not" I replied defensively.
"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.
I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.
"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."
For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.
"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed
"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.
"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."
"Oh..."
"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.
And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.
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willsimpforanyone · 2 years ago
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Hey! Hope you’re having a good day, Can your please do a smutty dom/sub, dom Percy jackson x sub female Zeus!reader where it's an enemies to lovers but readers been being a brat and teasing the hell outa' Percy so he decides to "teach her a lesson" so he takes her to his cabin and they fuck and she has a thing for choking. . . ?
hi hello sorry for taking so long uni is hell and im so tired but apparently i cant focus on revising so im doing this instead ty for being so patient luv u
tis made clear they're both adults like literally i say they're adults is all good
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"What's the matter, Jackson?" I grinned as I landed a bullseye on the target and heard a grunt from next to me. "Not really your speed, it it?" My voice dripped with faux pity.
Percy's shot went wide and I laughed. He rolled his eyes and nocked another arrow. "How old are you? I thought we were adults, not fucking kids." He loosed the arrow and just barely struck the target.
I shrugged, following suit and doing better than he did, if not hitting where I was aiming. "Maybe, but you make it so easy to fuck with you, it's like you're into it." I winked at him.
This kind of banter was common- one of us would be better than the other at something, flaunt their skill unashamedly and piss each other off until one of us left or someone else came in to shut us up. It was a familiar routine; loathe I was to admit it, Percy was better than I was at a fair few things so when I got the upper hand, I relished it.
"Come on, Perce, just give in." I cocked my head to one side, looking up at him. "Sea Daddy didn't give you this skill and I'm up by 6 points, you can't beat me at this."
He barked a laugh. "Sea Daddy? I should strike you down where you stand."
I waited until he nocked his next arrow. About to shoot it, I stood on my tiptoes, as close to his ear as possible. "Is that a promise?"
Percy's arrow flew into the ground, a faint pink staining his cheeks. I backed off, cackling. "Aw, too far?"
He stood frozen for a second. I paused mentally. It wouldn't be the first time I flirted with him, teasing him like this was just one of the weapons in my arsenal- I always made sure not to do anything too bad, just enough to catch him off guard. Maybe today was just a bad day and I'd gone too far.
Instead, Percy lowered his bow to drop it on the ground, stepping over his quiver of arrows to move towards me. There was a wolfish grin on his lips. "Not close enough, princess."
My breath caught in my throat. That was a new one; nicknames were sometimes used, sure, to annoy the other but 'princess' was new. And effective, apparently.
Determined to stand my ground, I stayed still as Percy crossed the short distance between us. He was a good few inches taller than me. I caught myself looking into his eyes and tried to school my face into something resembling superiority.
He smelled really good.
"No retort? Nothing to say, hm?" Percy's tone was slightly condescending and I don't know if it was the proximity, the nickname or the fact that I suddenly realised I had this incredibly attractive man focusing all his attention on me, but I felt a little weak at the knees.
Now is not the time to be discovering kinks, dammit.
"I-I..." I sputtered. "...Princess?"
Smooth.
Percy grinned, tongue just sweeping over his lower lip. "If I knew a little pet name would shut you up, I'd have done this weeks ago."
Well. Shit. Guess I'm going all in, humiliation be damned.
"Kiss me."
Percy blinked. "...what?"
I twisted a hand in the front of his shirt. "You heard me, Jackson." That's right, I still have some words left. "You started this, what are you gonna do about it?"
There was no hesitation. Percy pressed closer to me and slammed his lips on mine, hands coming round my waist and fingers digging into my back. I inhaled sharply, instantly dizzy with the rush of arousal that flooded my system.
Time slowed for a moment, just enough so that all I knew was Percy, Percy and his lips and his hands and his heartbeat hammering against his ribcage.
We broke apart, panting slightly, eyes locked. I was the first to break.
"My place or yours?"
Percy growled something that might have been 'mine' and grabbed my hand, pulling me after him. I stumbled a few times but we made it to the Poseiden cabin; luckily there were very few people around, everyone either in their cabin or busy. No one to see me eagerly following Percy into his cabin and definitely no one to hear him push me up against the door and press his lips to mine again.
My fingers ran through his hair, his hands back on my hips pinning me against the wood. Damn, I forget how strong he is. I tried shifting my position slightly and he merely readjusted his grip, I couldn't even lift away from the door. The knowledge that he was using hardly any effort to keep me still sent a fresh wave of horniness through my brain and I fought to keep a whine from escaping my lungs.
Yeah, I know we fight and tease and try to annoy the fuck out of each other but holy Hades if this guy isn't gorgeous and currently all I can think about.
Percy tugged at my hair, pulling to expose my neck and licked a stripe up my skin. "You okay with this?"
I did my best to nod.
Immediately, he stepped back, letting go of me completely. "No, do better, princess, yes or no?"
Gorgeous and respectful of consent, the gods really put effort into making this one.
I swallowed, forcing my brain to make coherent words. "Yes, yes, I am very okay with this, get back here."
Percy smirked. "So demanding." He went to sit on his bunk, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head to the side. "If you want it, you have to come over here."
Bitch, thinks he's in control. He's right, but I didn't have to give in so easily. I steadied myself.
"Oh, you think I'm that easy? We'll see."
I kept my eyes on him, shrugging my jacket off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Kicking off my shoes was hardly sexy, but I kept going, getting a little closer to the bed. I thanked everything possible that I was wearing a dress, the soft material settling just below mid thigh. The shorts I wore under them were quickly gone, and I was left in a dress, underwear and a bra.
Percy's chest was rising a little heavier with each item of clothing I rid myself of and I knew just how to get a little of my power back. I moved to stand right in front of him and lifted the back of my dress. I winked and pulled my underwear off, one leg at a time, until they were pooled on the floor. To no one's surprise, there was a wet patch in the middle.
Percy groaned, hands fisting in the sheets. I stood in between his open legs, not touching but so, so close.
"Aw, you liked my little show, Jackson?" I giggled. "Gods, I bet you're desperate to see under here-" I played with the hem of my dress. "-am I right?"
In a flash, Percy stood, hefted me up and threw me on his bed. I bounced on my back, a breathless laugh punched out of me. Grabbing my thighs, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and flipped up my dress.
"Such a fucking brat." Percy's voice was low and slightly gravelly, fingers pressing into the flesh of my legs. I squeaked at the sudden movements and the slight embarrassment of being exposed so abruptly.
"Maybe this will teach you a lesson." He dove in between my thighs, licking a stripe up my pussy, moaning at the taste. I choked as he ate me out with fervour, keeping my legs apart easily even as I fought to close them around his head.
Percy's face was soaked, tongue driving me insane as it swirled over my clit. Two of his fingers pushed inside me and I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from yelling. I felt him grin against me, not moving his fingers, just keeping them insider my pussy and laving his tongue over my folds.
"P-Percy, fuck-!" I reached down to grasp his hair in my hands.
He pressed a kiss to my clit, looking up at me with a smug smile on his face. "What is it, princess? A little needy?" I somehow felt myself get even wetter, and Percy noticed. "Oh, you like being called 'princess', hm? Cute, but you're gonna have to work for me to do anything else, baby."
I groaned in arousal and annoyance. "Wh-what do you want, b-bastard?"
Percy tutted, and withdrew his fingers. "Nope, c'mere." He stood and sat on the bed, reaching over and dragging me until I sat straddling his lap, bare pussy just touching his jeans. I clutched at his shoulders as he inserted his fingers into me again.
"Now, if you want to be fucked properly, you're going to fuck yourself on my fingers until you come and I'm not going to help, okay, princess?"
Oh, a cruel, cruel, insanely hot man. Damn my power, damn everything in me that wanted to push back at him, I wanted to come and an infuriating part of me wanted to please him. Fuck.
My cheeks were bright red, my dress covering the obscene sight of Percy's hand wet and his fingers inside my pussy, but slowly, slowly, I lifted myself a few inches and sat back down. Fuck, his fingers were so long. I repeated my action, a little stronger. A little faster, a little more, until I was riding his fingers and he was kissing me and despite his former promise he was pumping his hand and using his thumb to press circles into my clit.
I was so worked up it didn't take long for my orgasm to rip through me. I let out a choked sound and Percy used his other hand to press over my mouth to muffle my noises. "Fuck, you sound so pretty when you come, princess, but we gotta be quiet, okay?" My hips were still stuttering against his hand, but I nodded.
The flash of a thought shot through my orgasm-addled mind. I released one of Percy's shoulders and touched his hand across my mouth. Gently, I guided it to just rest on my neck, the weight at once comforting and dizzyingly arousing.
"This okay?"
He stared at my neck, at his hand reaching from one side to the other and very carefully he squeezed his fingers. My eyes rolled back in my head. "Shit, yes, very okay, princess." He gently withdrew his fingers from my pussy and brought them up to his mouth. He licked my come off his hand, groaning at the taste. "Fuck, that was so hot, you did so good, my good little princess, you want me to fuck you now?"
He was so deperate for me, it gave me a rush of power to have him like this even if I'd just ridden his hand because he asked.
"Yes, fuck, please fuck me, Percy."
He moved me off his lap like I was delicate, something he'd break if he wasn't careful, and stripped as quickly as possible. His cock slapped against his stomach and I felt my mouth water. Still a little shaky, I got up on my knees and pulled at his hips until he was facing me. I reached out and took his cock in my hand, licking at the tip.
Percy heaved a breath. "Oh, princess, as much as I'd love to have you suck me off, if I don't get inside you in the next minute I might actually combust."
I giggled. "Well, we wouldn't want that."
I watched him fish a condom out from the drawer by his bed and bit my lip as I watched him slide it on and jerk himself a few times. "Alright, baby, how do you wanna do this?"
Laying back against the pillows, I slipped off the straps of my dress. Percy got the message pretty quickly.
In a second, he was hovering over me, pulling the top of my dress down. He reached round to my back and unclasped my bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. He bent his neck and nipped little red marks over my chest, licking over my pebbling nipples and I inhaled sharply. "I've been good, haven't I?"
Percy nodded. "So good for me."
I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Then fuck me like you hate me."
He smirked, reaching down a hand to guide his cock to push into me inch by inch. "Well, since you asked so nicely..."
I barely had any time to adjust to him when he started pounding into me, hips pistoning and abs clenching. Moans worked their way between my lips despite my best efforts, unable to be silent at the delicious friction he ws giving me.
"So hard to be quiet, isn't it?" Percy panted into my ear. "Poor thing, let me help with that."
Not stopping his movements, he sat back on his heels, pulling my hips up to him and smoothing one hand down my body to rest heavy on my throat. My tits bounced as he thrusted hard into me, my hands clutching at the sheets, the pillows, his arm, the hand that promised to just slightly cut off bloodflow to my head.
My vision went slightly fuzzy, my head deliciously dizzy and all I could do was lie there and take it, take his cock hammering into my pussy and feel the build up of my second orgasm.
"Sh-shit, princess, you feel so fucking good, I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, fuck!" Percy hissed through his teeth. "Touch yourself for me, that's it, such a good girl, fuck."
I rubbed my clit harshly with as much focus as I could, feeling myself come from my toes, rolling up through my body and exploding in my lower stomach. Percy's lip was swollen and red from where he'd been biting it and I felt his hips stutter, flooding the condom as he came.
There was a minute of quiet, both of us recovering, breathing evening out. I squeezed my eyes shut against the overstimulation as Percy pulled out, shushing me gently. There was a moment where he removed the condom where I truly thought he was just going to leave and my heart squeezed painfully, but he returned almost immediately.
"Hey, sit up, baby, that's it." He helped me up to sit on his bed, summoning some water and pouring it in a cup he'd found. He handed it to me. "Drink at least half of that, please. I'm gonna get some new clothes, okay?" Pressing a kiss to my head, he wandered about the cabin gathering sweatpants and t-shirts for us.
Obediently, I swallowed almost all the water, waiting sleepily for him to offer me his clothes.
Percy slipped on some clothes, helping me stand and after getting my permission, slipped off my dress and helped me put on one of his camp t-shirts and a pair of warm sweatpants.
"Better?" He whispered, maintaining the soft atmosphere we'd managed to cultivate.
I nodded. "Mm, yeah, thank you."
He blushed, wrapping me in his arms. "No problem, princess."
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ty for requesting, i hope you liked!!
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nyxvuxoa-writes · 5 months ago
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Hello, may I request a #15 with Sergei Kravinoff from the prompts?
Thank you.
You got it hon. I hope this hits the spot for you. ★
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𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚
Sergei Kravinoff x Submissive!F!Reader
◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.
◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (maybe slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. The reader is referred to as a property of sorts. Submissive reader. Reader being defiant. Being dominated by Sergei. Manhandling of the reader. Sexual Choking (don't try unless you know what you are doing). Ripping clothes off reader. P-in-V. Dirty Talk. Orgasm denial. Internal ejaculation.
◢ Word Count: 1.6K
◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.
2K Follower Prompt List
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"I'm not your property." You spit at him, an anger in your voice that continued the argument that was already going on. Sergei turns to look at you. There was confusion on his face. His brow furrows heavily. The tension in his shoulders spreads through his body. He lets out a heavy breath, and you can see the way his muscles move heavily with movements. The Russian was taken aback by your words.
"Since when?" He growls at you. "Since I say so. I'm in charge of me. Not you."
Sergei blinks, his head tilting slightly. He was trying to process your words, and they weren't sinking in. Since the start of your relationship with him, it had been clear where your place was with him. He was in charge. He says jump and you are supposed to say 'yes sir, how high'. But today, he might have struck a nerve with you that sent you into this state. Maybe you just needed a good reminder of how this relationship with him worked. Reaching up, Sergei runs his fingers over his lips, thinking.
"You have one chance to correct yourself." He says.
Those were words you had never heard out of his mouth. But your arms crossed in defiance. You stand your ground, putting your foot down on the matter. He could read the brat in your body language. It would be a lie to say that a part of him wasn't turned on by it. You were normally such a good girl, and here you were with your big girl panties on thinking that you could call the shots simply because you were frustrated with him. Angry even. Eventually, he might realize that he was an asshole, but right now the only thing he could focus on was putting you back into your place. To hear you moaning and pining for him like the simple creature you are.
It's a matter of seconds and his left hand is around your throat. He catches you off guard and you reach up, grabbing at his arm. Your eyes go wide, but you don't feel unsafe. You have never felt unsafe with the man, and truthfully he'd never hurt you. Not in a way you didn't enjoy, anyway. You can feel his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. He's limiting the blood flow, causing you to feel a weirdly euphoric feeling. You tense and relax at the same time. His eyes meet yours with an intense stare and before you have the chance to respond, Sergei is gripping your shirt with his free hand. You hear the sound of ripping fabric from your body. He shreds it with ease, removing it from your body, and exposing your upper half.
A slight smirk comes to his face. You can see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly at the sight of you like this. He likes it, feeling the authority over you coursing through his veins like a slight adrenaline high. He backs you up against the wall, his hand pinning you by your neck to it. His free hand goes to your panties, ripping the sides of them and removing them from you. You feel as thin fabric slides down the inside of your legs and to the floor at your feet. For that brief moment, you both stare at each other.
It wasn't the first time you had been manhandled by the brute, but it was the first time in this situation. You feel your mind slipping into a state of submission, realizing that he was about to correct the poor choice of words that came from you. The hand against your throat loosens slightly before it tightens again. His free hand moves to his black pants, freeing himself from it. Sergei's hard, already at attention, and aching to remind you exactly where you belong. You can feel your mouth water in anticipation and you're already becoming slick between your legs. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The emotions went from angry and frustrated to, utter desire to feel that correction. All it took was the simple actions of a hand around your throat and that piercing gaze to lock with yours.
His movements are quick as you feel the hand go from your throat to your hips. He lifts you up with ease, positioning you quickly so that he can thrust himself up into you. You feel a wave of heat wash over your body as your skin becomes sensitive. He fills you quickly, bringing your hips to his as his entire length presses into you. He slams you against the wall slightly, growling as he feels the way your body flexes around him. You let out a moan that causes Sergei to growl against the crook of your neck. This wasn't about you, but he still wanted to hear those moans. They fueled him to start pumping into with an aggressive nature.
Your hands go to brace themselves, but you feel like you don't know where to put them. They grip his arms, his shoulders. You try and hold on as he starts to pump away. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room. You can't contain the noises coming from your lips as you start to moan louder, and louder with each almost slightly painful thrust between your legs. He was using your hole for his own pleasure, making sure you were aware that it was his. Your body is his. Your mind is his. He was going to do with it as he pleased. You weren't going to stand there and tell him that you weren't his. You brought out that deeply primal dom in his body, he was making sure you felt it and knew it.
The louder you became, the harder he started to thrust. You could feel the base of him meeting at your swollen cunt, that tease of sensation that caused your body to tremble in his strong grip. He noticed it, growling at you slightly. His fingertips pressed into your thighs and lower ass with every intention of leaving little painful bruises for you to remember later.
"Don't you dare cum." He growled into your ear. "You haven't earned that." He added.
"But..." You went to plead with him as your tone whimpers for him. Were you even going to be able to stop yourself from doing that? He growled again, pressing you against the wall a little more. His head shakes with a no.
"Whose hole is that?" He asks deeply, groaning slightly. "Y-yours!" You cry out, feeling a hard thrust up into you. "Say it again." He snaps at you. "It's yours! My hole is yours!" You say, your fingers pressing into his skin as you continue to try and brace yourself.
He growls again, moaning at the end of it, almost as if he was approving of what was said without having to say it. He adjusts himself slightly, moving your weight so that he can stop thrusting. He moves your body for you, bouncing you along his length with such ease, his hand bracing you with your thighs a little more. He was using you, every bit of you for his own satisfaction. You could feel the tension in his shoulders and arms. You can tell there were bruises already starting to form from his fingers.
You do your best to hold off a finish, feeling as sweet spots were hit. Your body can't help but tremble, which adds fuel to his fire. He bounces you faster, harder, using how he moved your body to milk himself into you. Being with him long enough made it easy to read his body language, and he was starting to reach that finish with a goal in mind. You wanted so badly to finish with him, to finish at all, but the idea of him telling you that you weren't allowed sent a need through your mind. Let him use you, let him get that point across and maybe, just maybe you can earn a finish later.
Sergei's growling and moaning become more intense, becoming more frequent as he feels that building pressure. He wasn't holding back. That wasn't the point of any of this. He was going to be clear about where you stood in this relationship with him. He felt that heavy twitch in his cock, and his fingers press even harder into your skin as he braces you against the wall once more and buries himself deeply in between your legs. Your fingers press into his skin, nails digging into him as you fight off the urge to finish with him. You can feel his seed start to fill you, the warmth of it seeping out between the flesh that met his. He pressed as deeply as he could, twitching heavily as he made sure you took every last drop of him.
A hand moves back to your neck as he pulls from you. There is a mess between your legs, you can feel it. He lowers you back to your feet, the hand moving to grip your jaw and he forces you to look deeply into his eyes. At first, there is silence. You both stare at each other as he observes the way you are going to react to him, to all of this. There is no negative reaction, maybe a slight look of shock, but you can feel this deeper connection with him. That frustrated brat mode had faded away, and you're putty in his hands.
"You're mine." He says, making sure that the words are loud and clear. "You're mine in every sense of the term. Don't think I am done correcting you. I'm not."
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Extra Tags: @voxmortuus
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chvoswxtch · 1 month ago
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part one: the call
[series masterlist] | [part two]
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pairing: billy russo x fem!reader
summary: a ghost from the past has returned.
warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of murder, creepy sleazy boss & brief mentions of sexual harassment, billy being the cocky lil shit he is
word count: 3.8k
a/n: ahhhhhhh! i've been working on this for the past few months & i'm so excited to finally put it out. I really really really hope y'all enjoy it. this is only 6 parts, so it will not be a slow burn. it's gonna get intense fast. also, there is an oc name mentioned, but it's just for the backstory of the plot. this is still a self insert, & y/n will be used for the rest of the story! without further ado, let's get this spooky slutty season started. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
This was a bad dream. It had to be. There was no other logical way to explain why you were currently sitting in an interrogation room at a precinct, being questioned by police about a man that you had gone on a blind date with not even twelve hours ago, who had been found stabbed to death in an alley two blocks away from your apartment building.
It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. All you had to do was open your eyes, and this would all go away. You knew how to deal with nightmares. You knew how to escape them. You’d been running and hiding from them your whole life. All you had to do was open your eyes, and the sinister shadows wouldn't be able to sink their claws into your subconscious to trap you in the dark. Just open them, and this will all disappear. 
Just open your eyes.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
The detective’s voice swiftly brought you out of the trance of denial your mind had wandered into, and your eyes snapped open. To your dismay, nothing changed. The two detectives were still sitting across the table from you, the metal cold against your sweaty palms, one eying you warily while the other regarded you with a more sympathetic stare. The chair beneath you was still stiff and uncomfortable, the light above was still a harsh shade of artificial brightness, and the large piece of glass to your right that reflected your terrified expression still made you feel unsettled knowing there was someone watching you just on the other side of that two-way pane.
“I…I’m sorry. What was the question?”
The waver in your voice gave away how shaken you were by the whole ordeal. When the police had shown up at your office an hour ago stating they needed to bring you in for questioning regarding the murder of Adam Mercer, shock had instantly shot through your entire nervous system, chilling the very blood in your veins with an icy sense of dread. 
This was the kind of thing you heard about happening in the news. A tragedy that struck someone else’s life. A nameless, faceless person whose existence you were unaware of. It was the kind of thing nobody ever thought could happen to them, until it did.
The older detective, the more commiserating one, had said they thought it was some kind of mugging gone wrong. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in New York City, unfortunately. The dazzling city was also dangerous. But since you were the last person to see Adam alive, they needed as much information as you could give them about the last few hours of his life. For some odd reason, it filled you with a sense of guilt that his final moments had been spent with you, a complete stranger, instead of someone else. 
Adam had been a really nice guy. He’d seemed to enjoy the date. He’d thrown his head back and laughed like a little kid at a stupid joke you’d told. He’d flashed you a charming smile when you’d nearly knocked your glass of wine over into your pasta. He’d animatedly told you about his family’s tradition of selecting a perfect tree together at a local Christmas farm back in his home state of Jersey every holiday season. He’d been sweet and gentle and respectful. But had he been happy? 
Had he succumbed to the inevitable fate of death at his attacker’s hands without a fight? Did he even see it coming? Had he had that moment, where everything flashed before his eyes, all his mistakes, all his regrets, all the would’ve, could’ve, should'ves? 
You knew what that feeling was like. You’d been there, once before. Nothing makes you want to live more than Death deciding to show up at your door and pick the lock with its cold, bony fingers to collect a bounty early. 
Thirteen times. Adam had been brutally stabbed thirteen times. It was excessive for a mugging. It felt more personal, that kind of anger and passion. As morbid as the thought was, you hoped the first one had killed him. You hoped he that went into shock swiftly and bled out just as fast so he hadn’t suffered through the next twelve.
Holding his pen in his right hand, the tip hovering over his worn yellow pocket sized notepad, Detective Craven repeated his question.
“How well did you know Adam?”
“I…I didn’t. I’d never met him until last night. My roommate um…she knew him. She’s the one who set us up.”
“Your roommate being Miss Riley?”
Detective Williamson had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table. He lifted one of his brows while waiting for you to answer his question. Swallowing thickly, you gave a faint nod of your head and dropped your hands to your lap, fidgeting with them under the table anxiously. 
“Yeah, Annie.”
Detective Craven cleared his throat, reading over his notes with his honey brown eyes as he continued his questioning.
“Now, you said he picked you up at your apartment around eight-thirty, the two of you had dinner at Maureen’s, and then he dropped you back off at your place around eleven. He left right after that?”
“Yeah, he…um…we said goodnight, he said he’d like to see me again, and then he told me he’d call me tomorrow.”
“He didn’t come up to your apartment at all?”
Detective Williamson didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice, or the implication behind his words, his icy blue eyes locked on you in an almost unsettling way.
“No, he dropped me off at the front steps of the building.”
“And you didn’t see where he went when he left? Didn’t give him one last look after a goodnight kiss?”
A flash of annoyance broke through your stunned disbelief at the invasive second question. You hadn’t said anything about a kiss. The younger detective seemed to be fishing for a crack in your alibi for some reason, trying to catch you in a lie that didn’t exist. A flicker of defensiveness crept into your voice when you spoke.
“No, after we said goodnight, I went inside.”
Before Detective Williamson could ask another thinly veiled judgmental question, Detective Craven stood up, shooting his partner a silencing look. Glancing down at you with a warmer expression, the older man gestured towards the door with his hand.
“That’s all the questions we have for now. We appreciate you speaking with us. I’ll walk you out.”
The precinct was bustling. Various murmurs of conversation buzzed in your ears. People were breezing past in every direction, but amidst the sea of chaos, you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Annie jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in and forced her way through the waves of people, not once muttering an “excuse me” or waiting for someone to move out of her way. A true New Yorker.
Detective Craven placed his hand on your shoulder to get your attention and held out a white business card that had all of his information on it in embossed black text.
“If you can think of anything else that might be helpful, don’t hesitate to call.”
Taking the card into your hand, you looked up at him and forced a tight smile onto your lips, giving him a faint nod of your head.
“Of course.”
After giving your shoulder a light squeeze, Detective Craven gave Annie a nod of acknowledgement before turning and disappearing back inside the interrogation room. As soon as you turned to face her, Annie’s face contorted into an expression of pity and concern. She immediately pulled you into a hug, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of your own overwhelming emotions.
“Come on, let’s go home.”
»»———  ———««
Annie had swiftly shot down your plan to go back to work before the words could even fully leave your lips. All you wanted to do was dive head first into a distraction, to immerse yourself fully in the piles of paper and black ink sitting on your desk that were waiting to transport you to another universe and into the body of someone else whose world hadn’t just been flipped upside down. Again. 
Instead, she brought you back to your shared apartment, uncorked a bottle of wine for each of you, and did her best to help you sort through the shock and the ripples it caused within you. She didn’t understand that your instinct was to run and hide, and that was because she didn’t understand you, not really. But that wasn’t her fault. She could only understand what you allowed her to, and there were huge pieces of yourself you kept hidden from her and everyone else beneath carefully crafted layers.
Pieces you were not ready to uncover and face yet.
The following morning when you showed up to work at the publishing house, it felt like everyone was looking through you instead of at you. Everyone had heard what happened, had seen the two detectives escorting you out of your office, but none of your coworkers said a word. Not to your face, anyway. You could feel the weight of their lingering stares, their hushed whispers floating past your ear like a cold autumn breeze. It was a familiar territory you’d already escaped once.
To your relief, you hadn’t been harassed by reporters wanting an exclusive on the story. Unfortunately, crimes like what had happened to Adam were a dime a dozen in this city. You felt guilty for feeling grateful for that, but not having cameras shoved in your face to be broadcast on news outlets that circulated on social media worked in your favor. You had come to the city that millions of people called home for a reason. You came here to disappear, to be invisible. The last thing you needed was to be thrust into a spotlight that would attract attention you’d gone to great lengths to avoid.
In the midst of trying to drown out the white noise of suspicious gossip and ignoring the way the stares penetrating the glass windows of your office made your insides twist in dreaded knots, you almost missed the sound of a knock at your door. Lifting your head, you were met with the sight of the last person you ever expected to see standing in the doorway.
Billy Russo.
He was significantly more dressed up than the last time you’d seen him, looking every bit the illustrious CEO, although that signature arrogant smirk of his seemed to be missing for once. His tall frame was covered in a deep navy blue three piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt beneath the matching tie, a dark charcoal gray thick coat layering over top. His raven hair was gelled back perfectly, just like it was that night at the bar, but the gleam of mischief in his dark brown eyes was absent. As he stood in the doorway of your office, nearly taking up the entire frame, he seemed to be looking at you in an expression of something that resembled concern.
“Billy.”
The surprise in your hushed tone rang clear in the quiet of your office. Billy removed the black leather gloves from his hands, slipping them into the pocket of his overcoat.
“This a bad time?”
Your lips parted slightly as your eyes flickered down to the open manuscript on your desk before looking up at him again.
“Um…no. No…I…what are you doing here?”
Billy took a step forward into your office and quietly closed the door behind himself.
“Just came by to check on ya.”
“Check on me?”
“Derek told me what happened.”
Billy kept his eyes locked on you as he explained the reasoning behind his unexpected visit, watching you closely.
Derek Becker was a friend of Billy’s. They had served in the military together, and he now worked for Billy’s private security company, Anvil. Derek also happened to be Annie’s boyfriend. A few months back, the two of them had tried to set you and Billy up. The four of you had gone out to a bar for drinks, but instead of hitting it off with Billy, you’d found him narcissistic, and you’d had no interest in pursuing anything romantic with him. Although, based on how he had interacted with you that night, it had seemed like he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic either, just a night of physical release.
Because Annie was your best friend and roommate, and Derek was often around, you’d seen Billy a few times since then, but it wasn’t like the two of you were friends. Needless to say, the fact that he’d made the trip to your office to check on your mental wellbeing was a bit of a shock.
“I’m fine.”
Billy arched one of his dark brows, and the ghost of a smile graced the edge of his lips.
“You almost sounded like you meant that.”
You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, to protest the underlying accusation in his words, but your defense got stuck in your throat. Seeing the look on your face, Billy’s faint amusement quickly disappeared, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few steps closer towards your desk.
“I’m sorry, I’m not here to be a dick. But it’s alright if you’re not fine. Normal people wouldn’t be fine in this situation.”
“Normal people?”
Billy stared down at you for a moment silently before turning his head to look out the glass window of your office, rubbing his large palm over his mouth and perfectly trimmed beard. Looking down at you again, a flicker of amusement was back in his gaze, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“I got a real good habit of sayin’ the wrong thing with you, huh?”
The self deprecation you detected in his smooth voice surprised you. You’d never heard him say anything that didn’t have an undertone of superiority or didn’t sound prideful. The guy standing in front of you wasn’t acting like the cocky rich playboy you were used to, and it made you wonder for a second if that’s what it really was; an act. A flicker of newfound curiosity had you wondering if Billy’s persona was as carefully crafted as your own.
“I don’t know if I’d call that a good habit.”
Billy let out a puff of air past his lips, giving a faint shake of his head in faux disapproval.
“Kickin’ a man while he’s down? That’s ruthless, sweetheart.”
“I think your ego can survive being knocked down a few pegs.”
Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, and his lips spread into a wolfish grin.
“Between you and me, it’s a bit more fragile than you think.”
You looked at him in faux shock, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.
“What? You mean the ego you overcompensate for with designer clothes and fancy cars is delicate?”
Billy rolled his eyes and held his hand up in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve kept me humble enough for one day.”
To your surprise, and to Billy’s, you smiled. It was small, but it was real and genuine. Billy’s impromptu visit was the last thing you expected to provide a lighthearted distraction to the whirlwind of chaos that had been plaguing you since yesterday. 
As much as you hadn’t been able to stand him the night you met him, you couldn’t deny that the banter between you came effortlessly. Within the first five minutes of meeting him, you’d called him a ‘self obsessed dumbass���, and instead of getting offended, he’d smiled. It had quickly launched into a battle of wits, who could come up with the more clever retort faster, and it only took half an hour for Derek and Annie to become exhausted, realizing they’d made a huge mistake and miscalculated their match making skills. Billy seemed to enjoy antagonizing you, and you couldn’t resist putting a man like him in his place.
Everytime the two of you were around each other, it was exactly the same. Just an endless cycle of unrequited flirting and unrestrained snark.
“Humble is not exactly a word I’d use to describe you, Russo.”
Before Billy could respond, your office door suddenly opened and your boss walked in, glancing between you and Billy in a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed displeasure. He seemed to size him up before turning his attention towards you, not so subtly letting his eyes roam over your figure sitting behind your desk in a way that made your skin crawl, which wasn’t missed by Billy. John gestured his head in Billy’s direction.
“Another detective?”
There was clear annoyance in John’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. It wasn’t lost on Billy either, and his posture seemed to go rigid.
“No. No, um…friend.”
Friend. Using that word to describe Billy tasted foreign on your tongue, but Billy didn’t appear to react to it. His dark brown eyes sized John up in a similar fashion as your boss had done to him, only Billy didn’t even attempt to hide his judgment and lack of impression.
“You know, most people knock before just walkin’ in.”
Both yours and John’s heads turned towards Billy. You were momentarily stunned by the way Billy had so casually called out John’s abrupt intrusion, and John looked visibly irritated, but he turned to face Billy with a forced smile on his mouth.
“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m John Altieri. I own this publishing house.”
Unlike John, Billy didn’t plaster a fake smile on his face for politeness, or speak in a faux friendly tone. Maintaining eye contact, he reached out to grasp John’s outstretched hand with more firmness than necessary as he shook it.
“Billy Russo. I own the building.”
That bombshell had you sitting up straighter in your chair and blinking a few times in surprise. Billy owned the building? Since when? That was definitely news to you.
The smile on John’s face faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered and nodded, trying to appear unphased by that revelation.
“Pleasure. If you don’t mind, I have some important things to discuss with Y/N/N. In private.”
Billy outwardly looked calm and collected, but you swore you saw a flicker of anger in his dark brown eyes. He didn’t seem to like hearing your boss refer to you with a nickname that was spoken with too saccharine of a tone for a superior to speak about their employee. Not that you liked it either. John seemed to always maintain a balance on that tightrope of not being inappropriate enough to report him to HR, but being too friendly for you to not feel uncomfortable. 
The bastard was clever, you’d give him that. He knew what he was doing. He was careful and cautious enough that it couldn’t be classified as textbook harassment, and could be argued as a simple misunderstanding. It made you want to stab him with your pen every time you caught him staring at your chest or your legs.
After letting a purposeful uncomfortable moment of silence pass, Billy looked down at John, that signature smirk you were used to seeing on his lips spreading slowly like a sun rising over the skyline.
“Of course.”
Turning his head to look at you again, Billy gave you a faint nod of his head and a wink.
“See ya later, sweetheart.”
Giving John one last final unimpressed and cold side eye, Billy pulled his leather gloves out of his overcoat pocket and turned to leave your office with a confident stride, leaving you and John alone in your office, and your mind swirling with a flurry of questions about Billy Russo.
»»———  ———««
By the time you walked through the front door of yours and Annie’s shared apartment, all you wanted was a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. You’d spent last night tossing and turning, haunted by the nightmare your life had once again turned into, and you felt the exhaustion in every cell of your body. Tossing your keys into the little green bowl on the side table by the front door, your footsteps were slow and sluggish as you headed down the hall on the left towards your bedroom.
Dropping your purse onto your bed, you sat down on the edge of it and slipped off your shoes, letting them drop on the hardwood floor with a soft thud. Letting out a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and hunched over, covering your face with both of your hands. The muffled noise of your ringtone began to sound from your purse. Dragging your palms down your face, you slipped one of your hands into your purse to dig for your phone blindly, absentmindedly hitting the answer button and bringing it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello Y/N.”
The voice that sounded on the other end of the line wasn’t one you recognized. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you looked down at the lit screen and read “unknown caller”. A furrow creased between your brows as you brought your phone back up to your ear, running one of your hands through the roots of your hair to push it back.
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“I guess your new boyfriend didn’t make the cut.”
Immediately your hand froze, and your eyes widened. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and anger coursed through you, but the latter won out.
“Excuse me?”
Your tone quickly shifted from one of puzzlement to pure fury as you sat up straighter. A sinister chuckle from the deep mysterious voice on the other end of the line further incensed you.
“Did you really think I’d let anyone else have you, Cassia?”
The phone slipped out of your hand, dropping to the floor below with a harsh sound that didn’t even register in your ears. A pit of dread opened up in your stomach, and fear trickled down your spine as if someone had started to trace the frozen sharp tip of an icicle along the back of your neck. Panic spread through your nervous system like a lit match to a dehydrated forest, and the four walls of your bedroom began to close in around you, squeezing the last breath of oxygen from your lungs.
No one in New York knew that name. 
You’d left it back in California, along with your past. The past that had forced you to run to the other side of the country and bury every trace of who you were before. The past that you tried so hard to forget and cover up with a new identity and a new life. The past that was taunting you from the other end of the line.
The past that had come back, and murdered Adam.
He’d found you.
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit
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pickingupmymercedes · 18 days ago
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She's here and so are we - Lewis Hamilton
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Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)
and also
Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: Hold You ’Til We’re Old - Jamie Miller
pairing: dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: fluff (hi anon, hope it's okay it got turned into part of the series)
wordcount: +2k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
The garden was our familiar comfort—the same space where I’d spent mornings wrapped in cozy blankets, watching the dew settled on the grass while Lewis brewed us coffee and the kids played with the fallen leaves.
Today, though, I was just part of the background, watching the interview crew ask questions to capture his life beyond the race track.
My hands rested on our son’s shoulders, guiding him gently as he, along with our daughter, marveled at the cameras and microphones around us. It was surreal to have such a production here, yet oddly fitting, considering what they were here to capture.
Lewis looked as calm as ever, answering each question with that steady warmth that drew people in, that quiet power that had captured me all those years ago.
Our daughter whispered a question, pointing to a light rig, and I leaned down to explain it, eyes drifting back to Lewis as he spoke. I always watched him in moments like this, still finding comfort in the way he held himself, how he could be so genuine while still keeping parts of himself just for us.
Then the interviewer’s question caught my attention. “What’s the one thing you look forward to most after a race weekend?”
I held my breath. This was a question I thought I knew the answer to, but there was always something Lewis held close when it came to our family.
He paused, just for a moment, then his eyes found mine, as if he knew I’d be there waiting for him. His answer slipped out softly, almost reverent, “Looking at my kids smiling with their mom.”
My heart fluttered—so simple on the surface, yet layered with a truth we both knew well.
There’d been a time when he would come home and look for comfort in the silence, when we both struggled with the life we were trying to build, each compromise a little harder to make.
Now, I saw that quiet devotion in his gaze, in the way his eyes softened as they settled on me, our children pressing closer, oblivious to the weight behind his words. I felt it though—a silent promise wrapped in his expression, one that told me everything about the life we’d built.
He could have said anything to that question, mentioned the thrill of racing or the next grand ambition, but he named the anchor to his world, the small joys that kept him grounded.
The camera kept rolling, capturing every angle of him, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the man behind that poised exterior. I was caught up in the meaning behind his words, holding onto that look he’d given me, the one that said, This is what it was all for.
It struck me that even amidst his schedule, the travels, the appearances, this was still his sanctuary. The life we’d fought to make ours wasn’t glamorous in these quiet moments, but it was the life we had both committed to fiercely, with the kind of compromise that spread into every part of our world.
It was here, with these two tiny humans clinging to my side, that I felt the gravity of his answer.
And for just a second, I let myself feel that same quiet joy, breathing in the love that had brought us to this garden today, to this shared life where even the simple things—our children’s laughter, the warmth of his gaze—meant everything.
There was a time when our life wasn’t set among the quiet, leafy gardens of London, but rather in the glassy, sunlit confines of Monaco.
Our daughter’s first years had passed in those winding streets, the towering buildings casting long shadows over a sea so bright it almost didn’t look real. Back then, we thought that place would be ours for the long run—our home, near enough to Italy for Lewis’s trips to Maranello and close to the lives we had already built around friends and routines.
But everything changed the day I stepped into one of the most prestigious schools in Monaco, searching for the right environment for our daughter to grow.
It was beautiful, clean, full of polished smiles and refined children already groomed for the spotlight of high society. It should have felt like the obvious choice. But that cold, hollow feeling settled in, whispering not here.
Our children were already set to inherit a life of privilege, of course, but it was my job to keep them grounded, to make sure they understood that money was more than a shiny accessory.
I wanted their world to be honest and I didn’t see that in those classrooms. I could see there a future where they’d learn, all too early, that wealth and status were expected.
And for me, that was a line I couldn’t cross, not with my kids.
Lewis familiar hum caught my attention later that day “You’ve been quiet. Did something happen at the school?”
I nodded slowly, not sure where to start, but feeling the weight of it all pressing on my shoulders. I leaned against the countertop, glancing at our daughter, who was sprawled on the living room rug, humming to herself as she colored. Lewis followed my gaze, waiting.
“Do you know what she asked me?” I began, voice barely above a whisper. “She wanted to know when she’d have the same backpack as the other kids.”
His face softened, but I saw the concern tugging at the corners of his mouth. I tried to explain, each word slipping out with a mix of frustration and sadness.
“I thought we could keep things balanced, but... all around her, it’s luxury stacked on luxury. And she notices it now. But she’s only four, Lewis.”
He looked at me, his gaze steady, understanding. “She’s going to notice, love. Not just here—she was bound to ask these questions sooner or later.”
I nodded, knowing he was right, but feeling the ache deep in my chest. “I know. But it’s different here. There’s a way of seeing the world, of measuring everything by what you own, what you show off. I don’t want her to grow up thinking that’s all there is.”
Lewis’s hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “So… what are you saying?” His tone was gentle, but I could hear the undercurrent of hesitance, like he was bracing himself for whatever I’d say next.
“I’m saying I don’t think I want our kids growing up in this world where every kid’s playdate is at yacht. It feels… it feels like we’re setting them up to believe this is the only way life should look.”
There was a quiet pause, just us standing there in the dim light of our kitchen. I could see him processing, wrestling with the idea as much as I was.
Moving wasn’t a decision to make lightly. Monaco had been our sanctuary, the place we’d spent our earliest years as a couple, and later as parents, shaping our life around the rhythms of this sunlit, gilded place.
“I know it’s not easy for you.” I squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of my own words. “It could mean more travel, more distance between you and the team, but…” I trailed off, meeting his gaze, hoping he’d see what I was trying to say. “If it means they can grow up with some perspective, if they can have a life that feels more grounded, isn’t that worth it?”
He took a long, steadying breath, his eyes lingering on me with that familiar mix of patience and resolve. “Tell me where, and I’ll be there”
It was like a knot loosening in my chest. Relief and guilt, the kind that came from knowing I was asking him to compromise once again, to give up a part of the life he’d built here in Monaco.
And yet, he was willing, just as he’d always been, his love for us steady and unwavering.
As we stood there, holding hands in the kitchen, our daughter’s voice piped up from the living room, a cheerful melody completely unaware of the weight of the moment. I looked at Lewis, a slight smile breaking through my worry.
“Maybe she’ll thank us one day,” I murmured, half to him and half to myself.
He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Maybe. Or maybe she’ll hate us for leaving her beach.” His laugh was soft, almost tender, but I could feel the underlying sorrow in his voice, the same wistfulness that was twisting my own heart. “But we’ll be alright, won’t we? No matter where we are?”
I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me. “Yeah. We will.”
Even now, the memory of that decision lingers as one of the most defining moments of our relationship. It was an understanding we didn’t need to speak aloud. It was a compromise, one made out of love, out of that shared desire to give our children a life that wasn’t built on empty expectations but on the foundation of our family.
And through it all, Lewis was beside me, offering me his full trust, making me feel that I was as much a part of his heart as he was of mine.
It was never about leaving Monaco; it was about coming home, about stepping into the kind of life where we could nurture the values that mattered most.
We left so many memories behind in that sun-drenched city, but the life we’ve made here, in the quieter outskirts of London, is what we always wanted—a place for us to be a family, a place where Lewis could come back from the intensity of the race weekend and find his sanctuary.
It was a slower life, with longer flights for Lewis and new routines for the kids, but it was ours. And every day, I saw Lewis come home and breathe it in, appreciating the calm and balance we’d made for ourselves. This was a place for us to be real—a grounding place.
The interviewer’s voice tugged me out of my thoughts, her question like a thread pulling me back to the garden. To the moment. To Lewis.
I watched as he smiled softly, the kind that barely reached his lips but brightened his eyes in that way only few knew. The interviewer had asked him to elaborate on his answer, the one about looking forward to seeing his kids smiling with their mom.
Lewis glanced at me briefly, that silent look of his that said so much without saying anything at all. His gaze flickered back to the interviewer as he started, his voice a bit lower
“This place, this home… it’s our safe place” he began, sweeping a hand around in a quiet gesture. “Here, I get to be more than just the guy who races cars or shows up on red carpets. This is the place where our kids get to be themselves.”
He paused, looking past the camera to where our daughter was intently studying the sound equipment, her fingers itching to touch, her eyes wide with curiosity. I watched him as he continued, his tone warming with each word.
“Our daughter” he said, smiling a little wider, “She’s eight now, and is this fiery little force with questions about everything. And I get to see her—really see her—growing into that, with no hesitations.” He turned, his gaze landing on our son, who was contentedly mesmerized by vintage film. “And our son, just turned five” he continued, “he’s got this beautiful imagination, always thinking, always figuring things out his own way.”
Lewis shifted his attention back to me, his voice softer now. “And then there’s Y/n, who’s been my anchor in this crazy life. She’s the boss everyone knows not to cross, but she’s also the one I watched become this incredible mother. And she’s… everything.”
I felt my throat tighten; the weight of his words heavy in the air between us. His gaze lingered, finding mine again, and there was this unspoken understanding, a language we’d built over the years, through the early days in Monaco to the quieter, slower moments here.
Then, he turned back to the interviewer. “At the end of the day,” he continued, his voice thicker “after everything in the paddock and the cameras, the fame—it’s this. Coming home and seeing my family gathered in the kitchen, making pasta, spilling half of it on the counter because we’re all too distracted laughing. That grounds me. It’s what I look forward to after every race weekend. It’s what I look forward to for the rest of my life, really.”
He let the words settle, his gaze steady and unflinching, the weight of a promise within them. I wanted to hold onto this moment, to keep it folded in the corners of my mind for years to come, a reminder of what we’d built, what we continued to build every day.
Just as the interviewer started to move on to the next question, our daughter, who had been unusually quiet, perked up, her voice carrying over the garden and picked up by the microphones.
“Daddy,” she asked with her usual matter-of-fact tone, “if you’re so fast in the car, why don’t you ever win races at home? Like… when we race from the kitchen to the garden?”
There was a beat of silence as Lewis, and everyone around, blinked, caught off guard by the sheer innocence and brilliance of her question. Then he let out a laugh, the kind that rumbled deep from his chest, full and unrestrained.
He leaned forward, catching her gaze, his voice still light with amusement. “You got me there, bug. I guess that’s one race I’ll never win.”
She nodded, satisfied, and scribed down something down on her notebook. Leaving us all grinning, her question a reminder that in this home, we could be anything—parents, playmates, family.
Whatever challenges would come, whatever paths we’d still have to navigate, I knew that this—our love, our family—was the heart of everything. And no matter how many times we might leave this place, or come back to it, we’d carry this feeling with us.
For as long as we had each other, we’d always be home.
______________________________________________________________
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sonicblueartist · 8 months ago
Note
What about a one-shot or just a suggestive story where Shadow takes advantage of y/n?
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A/n: I'm probably gonna get all the fans' attention with this one huh? I normally don't write anyone but Tails but I am making an expection for some reason today. Have a good read I guess! Idk why I write what I write today XD Sorry for the long wait.
I left you guys in a cliffhanger. hah! idk if I would continue tho
Masterlist
Pairings: Shadow x Reader
They/them // She/her // He/him // Other
Summery; Eggman made a new weapon out of Shadow. Let's see what it is
Warnings: smut, lemon, suggestive themes, blood, marking, biting, tearing flesh, attempted rape
Word Count: 1371
Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?
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As your eyes flickered over him in fear, you were instantly struck by the sharp and scary aura emanating from his breathtaking violet eyes. Shadow stood before you, his chest heaving rapidly as if he had just completed a long and demanding marathon. His fur was damp, drenched in sweat, and his claws peeked out menacingly from his gloves. His fangs were visible, adding to the unnerving sight that confronted you. But what puzzled you most was the absence of any evidentiary explanation for his condition, except for one haunting phrase that echoed in your mind.
"What do you think is the most natural instinct of an animal, the most wild and scary one?" Eggman's voice resonated in your head, reminding you of his words moments ago. "Their bloodlust? Hunger to stay alive? Maybe. But there is something else that is much *more* dangerous and entertaining. 'The will to do anything to death for their mate.' "
The memory of Eggman's sinister revelation half an hour ago flooded your mind. You hadn't expected this game of catch to turn into something so disturbing. Though you had managed to catch your breath, your heart still raced uncontrollably, struggling to make sense of the unsettling situation unfolding before you.
Your eyes widened in fear as Shadow took deliberate steps toward you, raising the possibility of him falling victim to Eggman's trap, turning against his friends. A sense of terror gripped you, leaving you feeling trapped with no way to escape. Desperately, you scanned your surroundings, searching for an exit, but found nothing. You found yourself backed into a dead end.
"And to mate, of course." Your throat tightened as you heard Eggman's words reverberating in your mind. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—Shadow was hungry, thirsty for you. Eggman's twisted plans had successfully turned him, and now the true extent of Shadow' instincts became clear. No, this couldn't be true. Shadow wouldn't do this to you, would he? The shocking dishonor of Eggman's manipulation left you bewildered, unable to fathom the torment inflicted upon your friends.
"C-come on, Shadow. This isn't you," you started nervously, your voice shaking. "We both know that you don't wanna do this. Behave yourself! Think logically, like you always do! We're still in Eggman's base. He's playing with you, with your mind, your instincts! You are the ultimate life form, damn it! You can't just succumb to Eggman like that! There are Badniks running around, and if they find us, we're finished-"
Your plea was interrupted as Shadow forcefully pinned both his hands beside your head, a whimper left your lips in fear. A deep snarl escaping his lips as you attempted to slide away. Trapped between him and the wall, you realized the extent of his transformation. No longer the loyal companion you once knew, he approached you with predatory purpose, garnered by one sole instinct—breeding. You were left with a terrifying decision. Would you become the first to fall at his hands before the Badniks got to you?
After examining his prey's frightened face for a while, Shadow slowly lowered himself, his nose skimming along your neck. His actions mirrored those of a true animal, inhaling your scent as his salivating mouth revealed his primal desire for your presence. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the horrifying nature of the situation.
Attempting to muster the strength to push him away, you fought against his grip, but his strength surpassed anything you could have imagined. Like an iron vice, his grasp held firm, rendering your efforts fruitless. In spite of the predicament you found yourself in, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Shadow' well-built form, his muscles flexing in the most hypnotic manner.
You quickly shook away such distracting thoughts, forcing yourself to concentrate on finding a way out of this nightmare. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape as Shadow began to suckle at your neck and shoulder, exhaling his hot breath in sporadic bursts. The sounds he made only served to further ignite the blazing heat that reddened your face, flooding you with a mix of desire and terror.
Suppressing a moan, you desperately struggled to redirect your focus, your mind racing for an escape plan. Yet, how could you concentrate on anything other than the overpowering dominance Shadow exhibited? Pressed against the wall by his scorching body, each breath and moan he emitted only served to remind you of the pleasure he was experiencing.
Amidst his sloppy kisses and teasing nibbles, you fought fiercely against the sensations threatening to consume you, trying to maintain your composure. However, as Shadow momentarily eased the pressure of his body against yours, he replaced it with his leg pressed against your groin, effectively preventing any escape. The mix of pain and pleasure elicited a whine from your lips, pushing Shadow to suckle at your shoulder with renewed vigor.
Finally, he got bored and withdrew from his sloppy territory. The room grew suffocatingly silent as he moved his fangs along your throat, gently biting a few places, feeling your heartbeat increasing. He licked his lips and shifted his attention to your other shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses and sucking hungrily, leaving little marks. But it seemed like that wasn't enough for him anymore; he growled, as if yearning for something more primal.
With his fingers deeply entwined in your hair, he pulled, causing you to gasp, displaying your neck like a plate of meal to him. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, his fangs piercing through your skin. Tears slipped from your eyes as you cried out in pain. He let your arms go and held you tightly from your waist, as you gripped his back for support. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth, and unwillingly scratched his back in pain. It felt as though his teeth were digging deeper into your shoulder, testing your limits.
Shadow let out a pleasured sigh through his nose, not yet satisfied. He continued biting harder than before, his eyes closed as he let out an animalistic growl. The realization that he could break your neck in half if he wanted sent a shiver through your spine. He sucked your blood with such thirst leaving you weak as you sobbed silently, drinking and swallowing it all as if he hadn't had a drop in weeks.
Before things grew any wilder, he pulled back, a string of blood and saliva still connecting the two of you. Panting for air, he tried to lick all the blood flowing from his mouth with his tongue, his breath hot against your face. Your blood flowed from your shoulder to your chest.
Satisfied with the mark he left on you, Shadow now went for your lips. Gripping your form, he forced his lips onto yours, connecting them. You hesitated, not wanting to taste the disgusting blend of your blood and his saliva. He pulled your hair once again, and when you whimpered in pain, he immediately seized the opportunity and engaged in a fierce kiss, taking your breath away.
Your heart raced as his hand wandered across your body in a manner both unnerving and inquisitive. He marked his territory, staking claim to every inch of your being. Your mind battled to comprehend the situation, as your body responded to his predatory touch.
Fighting the rising panic, you summoned your inner strength you managed to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to distract him. As your lips collided in a feverish kiss, you hoped to manipulate the situation to your advantage.
To your surprise, he welcomed your advances. He tilted his head, letting out a low, carnal moan. Sensing that this could be your one chance to regain control, you decided to play along. You pushed aside your feelings of self-disgust and harnessed your newfound determination.
As you passionately kissed, your mind churned, searching for an escape plan. With each stolen moment, you became acutely aware of his animalistic nature, his primal desires, and his desperate need to assert dominance. Yet, instead of submitting to the imminent danger, an idea began to form in your mind.
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secret-smut-sideblog · 8 months ago
Text
Pillow Talk
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Astarion x F! Tav
18+ complicated/developing feelings, intimacy, heavy petting, urgent sex, dry humping, public sex (kinda), dirty talk, coming in pants (m!), implied trauma, miscommunication, tenderness, porn w/o plot
Tav innocently offered to help Astarion with his morning routine. But things get very close, and Astarion is shocked how her sweet face belies the sinful mouth she has...
-
"So you fill in your eyeline, right?"
He looked up from his book.
"Pardon?"
She was wiping the stray blood off of her neck with her fingers. Startling him when they slid into her mouth.
They had struck up a routine, he drank and she stayed to chat or just lay in quiet in his tent for a while.
This platonic exchange was new to him, but he found it surprisingly comfortable. Even looking forward to seeing her. Big doe eyes peeking under the flap of his tent, asking for entry.
She pointed good naturedly at him, licking her fingers clean. His eyes locked on her mouth.
"Your eyes. Your lashes are naturally white, yeah?"
They were, but he was a mite distracted.
Tav was... deceptive in nature. All eyes and lips. Her voice a bright chirp. Freckles and dimples. A beauty that was fit to the innocence of summer.
But as he got to know her found that she was more debauched. Always willing to cause chaos, down for anything.
Even shocking him sometimes with the things that would come out of her pouty flushed lips.
The contrast was... interesting.
"Why do you ask?" He intoned, looking back to his book in feigned disinterest.
"Well, I could help. It must be hard without a mirror."
"Interesting. And what would you gain from this exchange?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to fuck you Astarion."
He blinked.
She had brushed off his advances by turning the tables before. He came at her with honeyed words and she called his bluff, upping the ante with crude huffed words in his ear until he walked away flustered.
It vexed him to no end. To not only be bested but also how her words shot straight to his groin.
"You sure about that?" He smirked, unable to help himself.
She smiled Cheshire at him. Started pulling her shirt open. "You want me to make you scream, Astarion?" The last of her words coming out a loud moan. A dare.
"Would you pipe down?" He admonished, voice coming out a harsh whisper.
She giggled, closing her shirt again. The sliver of the curve of her breast hidden again.
His ears were flushed, closing his book.
She sat back, legs tucked under her. All innocent again.
"So...?" She sing-songed.
"Okay, fine." He huffed, acting terribly put upon.
"Yay!" She chirped.
He bit back the smile forming on his lips.
"If you so insist, you can assist me in the morning. Now begone from me, demon."
She giggled again, high rising bells. Waving her fingers at him as she retreated from his tent.
Gods, what a nuisance.
Completely ignoring the tightness in his leathers he blew out the candle.
The sounds of morning accosted him, groaning in his tent.
He lifted the flap to get some air but laid back down with a dramatic flop.
From the window of his tent, he watched his campmates mill around.
Only Karlach excitedly preparing for her day, greeting with big smiles and hands clasped on shoulders. Everyone else a smeared facsimile of alertness.
Tav was still in her long sleep shirt, but mostly put together. Hair in a long plait down her back, face washed. Talking to Halsin, though he couldn't hear their conversation. Halsin's eyes gazing down at her in clear desire.
She had to crane her neck to look up at him, basically standing on tiptoes.
At one point, she lifted her arms to stretch above her head.
He saw the druids eyes dip to her arched chest hungrily then back up to her eyes, carrying on the conversation.
Astarion felt a heat in his chest. Then shook his head.
This was none of his concern. She was beautiful, of course their campmates wanted her.
She looked over, seeing his tent open. Her eyes brightening. Opening her mouth to say something to Halsin then bouncing away towards him.
He saw how the druids face slightly fell and felt a petty thrill in his chest.
"Good morning~" She sung. "May I come in?"
It felt good, if not foreign, to be asked permission.
"Of course, darling."
She climbed inside with a little wiggle.
He turned to his chest, pulling the small washbasin out.
As he began his morning routine, she laid on the floor of his tent, snuggling down into his newly freed blankets with a happy sigh.
She had to know how adorable she was.
He reveled these moments, where it was just them in a comfortable silence. It was intimate, but in a way that didn't make him feel like he was drowning.
He rubbed his face clear, his unmade hair falling down into his forehead. Sighing.
"What I wouldn't give for a working mirror." He grumbled.
"Well, let me see. I'll paint you a picture." She smiled, looking up at him from his bedroll.
Though he couldn't see himself, he suddenly felt exposed. Knowing his face was bare, his curly hair free of pomade and unruly from sleep.
He turned and looked down at her with a slight frown.
She sat up and took him in.
Of course she looked radiant. Her bare face giving her an even more entrancing layer of beauty.
He tried to not squirm under her gaze.
"Well, your eyes are very beautiful like this, the contrast of red and white suits you. Your lips are full and arched. Jaw sharp."
Her eyes drifting up to his hair. Tilting her head and smiling wide, her dimples on display.
"And your hair is so cute like this. Like a big sheep." She giggled.
"I am not a big sheep." He huffed. "How dare you."
She bit her lip, still smiling at him. "Altogether very handsome. It's a good look on you."
He suddenly wanted to kiss her and blinked away the thought in shock.
"So are you going to let me do your eyeliner now?" She asked, clearly excited.
"You know what you're doing?" He asked, handing her the smudging pencil.
"Just because I don't usually wear makeup while trudging through the woods doesn't mean I don't know how to use it." She teased.
"Well some of us can afford to take less effort it seems."
"Careful, that was dangerously close to a compliment." She laughed. "Here, lay back."
He laid against some propped pillows and she straddled over him.
Her face coming over his, gently holding his head still.
He knew she meant nothing by the position or the closeness. But his heart still phantom pounded.
"Look up." She hushed, lining the bottom of his eye with sure hands.
"You know, I get why you feel strange about your appearance." She spoke softly, face stern in concentration.
"People are weird about me too. Most people only give me the time of the day if they want to fuck me."
His eyes had drifted up to the roof of his tent but came back to hers at that.
"Fuck me then forget me. Thought that was how things were going to be for me for a long time."
She sighed. "Maybe it still is. If we didn't have tadpoles to keep us together I think half the camp would be culpable."
She had taken the air out of his lungs. Unknowingly mirroring his own thoughts to him.
"Sorry, that's not your problem." She murmured, switching to his other eye. Her tongue sticking slighty out of her mouth in concentration.
It wasn't, and yet he felt guilty. After all, he still was planning to seduce her. It hadn't been working, but still.
"And what if someone wanted to be with you and stick around?" He hushed.
She looked at him, pausing. Then smiling sadly.
"I don't know. I've never gotten that far." She shrugged. "Could be nice. Or a nuisance, depending on the person."
He laughed low in his throat.
"Okay, done." She leaned back, admiring her work.
"Oh, wait." She hushed, leaning forward again, lips so close to his he could feel their heat. Fingers smudging gently along the outer corner of his eye.
He leaned up thoughtlessly and slid his lips against hers.
She froze in shock, then slowly leaned into him. Moaning softly.
He cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her into him. Suddenly hungry and needful.
Aware of the tent flap still open, he turned his body over hers, shielding her from view.
Didn't need all of their companions spying on them, did they?
They pulsed into each other, all heat and slick. Tongues twisting, desperate pulls of hands. Panting.
His mind was full of nothing but spinning desire. A heady miasma of need.
He couldn't maintain decorum anymore.
With an impatient huff he kicked the tent wall, the flap falling closed.
Pulling his shirt off of his head he dove back into her. Lost in her velvet mouth, the lamb's ear skin of her thighs. All the soft little sounds she was making, sweet bird cries.
His hands pushed under her sleep shirt, gripping onto her plush hips. Pulling her into him with a low moan. Grinding his hard length into her soaked underclothes.
Her head fell back, gasping out choppy breaths.
He could tell she was trying to be quiet and it ignited more flames in his pelvis.
"Do keep your voice down, darling." He teased in her ear. Pushing her sleep shirt up more, cupping her breast.
She leaned forward and ran her tongue up the point of his ear, panting hot.
His eyes hitched back, groaning.
"I thought we were being quiet." She teased.
Evil. Evil woman.
"Oh, you're being nasty again?" He chided, hips rolling of their own accord now.
He was trying to maintain the upper hand here but he was flushed and panting. His purpose narrowed down to getting more, more, more.
"Oh you want nasty?" She purred.
She pulled on the waistband of his leathers, pulling him into her harder. Hips meeting his in time.
"How would you want me if we fucked? Hmm maybe you would bury your cock in my throat and let my sweet tongue lap at your underside till I was gasping."
Oh Gods.
His eyes squeezed shut, hips pistoning into her.
"Mmm, or maybe you'd want me on all fours, my slick greedy cunt taking your cock. Slamming your hips into my ass, seeing it jiggle with your thrusts."
She pulled his hand to her ass to make her point, suckling down on his ear.
He bit back a moan, hand gripping into the round plush flesh of her ass. Panting into her neck, bending her leg out with his. Pulling her open for him.
"Hmm, maybe not those." She hushed into the shell of his ear. "Maybe you want me to lick your nipple, suckling it in my hot tongue. Lave my tongue over your chest until your arching your back so pretty for me."
His breath caught in his throat, cock unbearably hard. Hips stuttering into her.
"Ohh," She smiled, looping a leg around his hip. "That's it."
She pulled down with her leg, his hips melded with hers now.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair she pulled taut, bending his neck open.
He was dangerously close, the hair pull nearly sending him over. Stifling the moan caught in the back of his throat.
"How hard would you shake for me when I fucked my fingers into you? Milking the agonizing pleasure from you. Spilling your spend in gushes on my bouncing tits."
He whimpered, gripping down into her hips and began spilling in thick ropes. Biting down into her shoulder to not cry out. Hard pulsing strikes of near tortuous pleasure. Ripping up through his body with merciless talons.
She held him steady as he shattered over her. Hushing encouragement into his ear.
His eyes had started to water, a lump suddenly in his throat. Startling himself.
He allowed himself one more moment of her warmth before pulling away. Sitting up and facing away from her. Forcing his breath slow and even.
"Hey," Her voice soft, pulling close to him but not touching. "Was that too much? I'm sorry."
"No, you were devine darling. Just needed to catch my breath. You wore me out, you wicked thing."
He held his hand hard to his chest, steadying himself. You're safe. You're here. You're safe.
She was quiet behind him, then planted a soft kiss on the curve of his shoulder, rising up.
"I've overstayed my welcome." She said knowingly. "Sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a second."
He wanted to tell her that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. He actually wanted her to stay, lay in that quiet again. But his body was all sharp edges, bristling.
She slid his shirt back to him and left his tent. "I'll keep my distance from now on, don't worry."
The way she said it, with a certainty of wrongdoing, like accepting a punishment. His heart ached for a moment.
Like she had wronged him.
The sweet thing.
No. No, he would find a way to fix this.
~
Part 2
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billthedrake · 1 month ago
Text
BIG SKY
I won't lie to you and tell you that I've never perved on my brothers, but with Keith I managed to keep the lust in check. But objectively, my older, middle brother is a hunk. Even as I walked past security at the regional airport and saw him standing there waiting for me, I was struck by how attractive he was. 6-foot-even in casual summer clothes with a build that looked almost wiry-lean at first but was super solid when you got closer.
"Alex!" he called out to me to catch my attention. Then stepping up to meet me in a quick bear hug he added in a more normal voice. "So good to see you, bro."
OK, I mostly felt that normal fraternal affection and his excitement was rubbing off on as he clapped my lats through my polo shirt and I felt his own taut bod underneath some faded National Parks T-shirt he had on. At least I hoped his excitement was rubbing off on me. I was low-key dreading this trip and not so low-key resenting how much even the air ticket out west was costing me mid-summer, not to mention my share of the lodging costs.
Seeing Keith happy made it worth while. "Glad you could make it," he said, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze, as if we were still in high school and as if I weren't not taller than him. "I know it's not your thing."
I shrugged. I promised I wasn't gonna be an ass this week. I knew this meant a lot to Keith and to be honest I was glad and a little impressed he wasn't doing the typical Vegas thing, or even the typical Nashville thing. Keith loved the outdoors, so his buddies planned a week of fly fishing and light hiking in big sky country.
"Come on, Keith," I objected. "I'm glad to be here."
It was the right answer, but my brother couldn't help but tease me. "Dude, your idea of nature is Central Park." I had a carry-on that I knew how to efficiently pack, so we didn't need to wait for bags. I followed my brother's lead out toward the exit.
In addition to not being an ass, I had two related goals for the week: one, dial down the bitchy gay humor. I mean, I don't think of myself as bitchy or queeny or whatever, but I know these guys probably do, and I lived enough in the Midwest to know how my normal wit comes across.
And two: have fun.
"Look at you expanding my horizons," I said. Then as we stepped outside the doors, I saw a vista of the Rockies in the background. "Fuck, that's beautiful," I muttered.
Keith smiled, amused at my big city reaction maybe but I think also enjoying that I liked it here.
We got in his rental car and were on our way.
"You didn't have to pick me up," I said as I took in the scenery that unfolded in front of us, flat but also majestic.
"No need for everyone to get a car," he said. He gave a quick glance over at me. "I'm really happy you came, Alex," my brother said in that sincere tone of his that used to drive me crazy - I don't know it sort of seemed West Coast people talk super earnest about every fucking thing - but now it hit me in a certain emotional place. I felt bad that I even considered for a moment saying no to this trip.
"Of course," I replied. "Big step for you and Rebecca."
He grinned. "It is," he said. "We were taking our time, not rushing anything you know, and then all of a sudden, we weren't taking our time," he chuckled.
"It'll be great," I said. "You're a great couple."
He nodded and shot me another look. "What about you, bro? Anyone in your life these days?"
I wouldn't say I was the black sheep of the family, but whereas Keith and Mike were close with each other and close with our parents, I had established some distance.
"Nah," I replied. I about tossed out some bitchy-witty comment, but reminded myself that I was going to be a new Alex Miller this week. "I've been trying to date more seriously, actually," I admitted. "But that shit's hard."
Keith smirked. He was always the supportive brother. Whereas Mike could be the typical ex-jock, Keith had a protective streak about his kid gay brother. Still, he was sometimes amused by the differences between gay and straight life. "How so?" he asked.
"Man, I need a couple of drinks in me before I start in on that," I said.
"Fair," Keith replied. Maybe we weren't that different.
We drove for a bit more in silence before Keith spoke up again. "Listen Alex, I wanted to thank you again for showing us around New York on last visit. We had a blast, and it meant a lot to Rebecca, I know."
I muttered a thanks. I mostly was enjoying the big sky country unfolding ahead of us as Keith drove us to the place where we'd rented a couple of cabins for the week. But, yeah, I couldn't help but sneak glances at my big brother, looking hot as fuck as he relaxed in the driver's seat. Keith very much had the body I was working for - muscular but lean. I got annoyed with how straight guys made that kind of body seem effortless, though in reality, I knew they put in the work, too.
***
Mike was Mike. Pushing 40 and looking very much like the high school football coach he was - 6'3" with 230 pounds that was a combo of solid muscle and some married spread, including a slight beer belly that filled out the Ohio State T-shirt he had on.
"Alex!" his voice boomed as I stepped into the cabin. I set down my bags as he got up off the couch, where he'd been watching the Cubs game. "Guess the party's starting now," he laughed.
If Keith was the sincere, serious one of the Miller brothers and I was the wry, cynical one, Mike was happy-go-lucky one, like an overgrown kid who still hadn't gotten used to adulting. Even if we shared a lot of genetics, Mike looked the most midwestern, with fine, pale brown hair and a strong stockiness, and a booming Midwestern accent.
I felt his big body clasp mine and I could smell the body wash on him and feel the heat from his build. If I kept my lust for Keith well repressed, I hadn't been able do the same with Mike. We had a complicated history and the fact I'd sucked his meaty cock before made compartmentalizing that much harder.
"I'll let you guys get settled in," Keith said. "Dinner up at the big cabin in an hour?" he added. "But feel free to come up earlier if you want. We'll just be hanging out."
I got settled into my room and freshened up. The place we'd rented wasn't cheap, but it was pretty damn nice, I'll admit, and Mike and I had our own rooms in the smaller, secondary cabin, while the best man Ben and the other two groomsmen Ian and Nathan were sharing the larger cabin with Keith.
Mike was popping open a beer can when I stepped back into the main open living/kitchen area. "Vodka's in the freezer for you," he said. "Picked up your brand."
"Thanks," I said. Vodka-soda was my go-to, but after the long travel day, a martini sounded perfect. "You must think I'm a picky bastard," I said, half in self-deprecation.
Mike grinned. "Oh, I KNOW you're a picky bastard," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "It shows on your face every time your back home."
I shrugged. He had me there.
"How are things back home?" I asked, pulling out the vodka and the chilled rocks glass my brother had put in for me.
"Same ol, same ol," Mike said. "Cat and I are getting divorced," he said bluntly, like he wasn't dropping a bombshell."
"Jesus!" I exclaimed, setting my glass down on the counter. "Really?" then seeing his nod, "Fuck."
He gave a shrug but I knew my big brother was an emotional wreck beneath his boisterous personality. "Technically it's a separation. But writing is on the wall."
"How are Emily and Jase taking it?" I asked, referring to his kids, my niece and nephew.
"Fine," he said, blue eyes looking at me intently. "Maybe. I don't know, A."
"We don't gotta talk about it," I said.
"Thanks," Mike said reaching forward to clasp my shoulder and giving it a strong squeeze. It was friendly and brotherly and flirty at the same time. "I don't mind you knowing, bro, it's just some things can't be fixed, you know?"
"Yeah," I replied. His hand didn't leave, nor did his gaze relent. I lowered my voice. "You want some head, don't ya Mike?"
He gave a shy grin before his face grew bedroom serious. "It's all I've been thinking about since Keith told me you were coming."
I felt my throat tense up. I hadn't expected sex, not this soon, but the thrill of sucking my coach brother off was getting to me. "What about the other guys?" I asked.
His voice grew sultry. "I'll keep watch, A. Just work your magic. Please."
Before I had a chance to agree or to crouch down, Mike was leaning in. He was a little buzzed from the beer, but I loved his combination of relaxed and excited as we swapped tongues. This wasn't a first for us, but it was new territory, something we'd tried when we stole off surreptitiously last Christmas.
Even as we kissed I could feel him reach down, undoubtedly pulling down his shorts. "Please, A," he grunted into my mouth.
I nodded. Giving a quick look out the window.
"They're not coming to check on," Mike said with some horny exasperation. "Just suck my cock, man."
I wasn't sure I liked my brother in bossy mode, but I was into the naughty thrill of this. I crouched down and took a second to admire this hard tool. We had similar cocks, if I had to measure I was probably a half inch longer, while Mike Miller had about a half inch of extra girth. I ran my hands up his furry legs - if his middle had a softness, the legs were all hard muscle. I leaned in and traced my tongue up from the base.
"Fuck yes," he hissed. The tone was now appreciative and begging rather than commanding. Pariticularly as I teased the shaft some, wetting my big brother down before I craned my head up to position my mouth over his leaking head.
I tasted that sap, then the saltiness of his prick, as I went down on him. I'm not an OnlyFans expert at giving head, but I'm good enough. Even without his telling me, I knew I gave the best blowjobs my oldest brother ever had.
"Holy Christ, bro... yeah, just like that." I felt his fingers grip my head. Not roughly, more cradling my temples to encourage me as I went up and down.
I frickin loved my brother's dick. It's meaty and just enough of a challenge without being too much. I relaxed my jaw and willed my throat to cooperate as I began deep throating him at a good clip. Working up and down with long mouth strokes, feeling the thick rigidity in his bone spear my gullet in rhythmic succession. It's the kind of vigorous cocksucking that I can't kepe up for a long session, but I knew I wouldn't have to.
"Oh FUCK, Alex! FUCK!"
I felt the quiver of that hard cock and was being fed a healthy appetizer of pent-up sperm. I adjusted my sucking pace to milk out that load without overstimulating him.
"Oh shit," I gasped as I pulled off. I had a healthy sex life but brother sex was some of the hottest and made me feel like a starved man. "That was hot, Mike."
I looked up and saw a look of pure sexual contentment and gratitude. "Bro... you're the fucking best. Seriously."
I mean, I kind of knew that, at least in comparison to Mike's wife or his past girlfriends. But I liked seeing him happy and knowing I'd put him in that state. It was fucked up.
"Stand up," he urged softly. But Bossy Mike was gone and it was his normal buddy tone of voice.
That only made me more willing to do as he asked. I stood up, hardon aching. We'd done this before, maybe a half dozen times over the years. Sometimes I jerked off in Mike's presence after I'd sucked him off. I wanted to now, so I started undoing my shorts.
I got the surprise of my life to see my big stud brother kneel down. Right there in the kitchen of the rental cabin.
"Oh shit, Mike," I grunted. "Are you gonna?"
He didn't really answer. He just flashed a smile before his face got closer to my hardon. And before I knew it was feeling my brother's tongue on my dick.
It took me a second to even think. I looked out the window. The coast was clear. I absolutely didn't want anyone to walk in on this. But I also enjoyed the fact Mike was blowing me out here in the open.
I touched his skull like he had mine. Gentler, even, since I didn't want to spook him. Mike was better at this than I thought. Wisely, he didn't try to take too much dick in. Holding the base of my cock he worked the top in steady sucking motions. It was gonna work, all right. I was already turned on like crazy.
"Mike... I'm gonna..."
His lips and tongue worked me faster and he hummed around my prick. Then as I felt the first shot fire out into his mouth, he raised up off my dick and rapidly stroked out the rest of my cum. I fired a good five or six heavy jets, right on to Mike's handsome face, and splotching that Ohio State shirt stretched over his meaty body.
"Yeah... stud..." he encouraged, his blue eyes wide as he watched the last of my ejaculation.
I was breathing hard now and my dick twitched, even after Mike let go of it and stood up. I watched him pick up his beer and take a healthy swig. "I fucking hate the taste of cum," he announced, before taking another sip to wash the flavor away. "I don't see how you swallow, Alex."
I shrugged. "I don't know... it's the best part." I felt throughly drained, and yet the sight of my hunky big bro dripping with my semen was going to keep my boned.
Mike got self conscious all of a sudden and grabbed a napkin off the counter to wipe his cheek and chin of my seed.
The reality was sinking in. "That wasn't your first dick," I said softly.
He grinned. "I've been fooling around with one of my players. Graduated senior now. Yeah, yeah, I know that's dumb as hell."
It was my turn to reach forward and pat his arm. "Maybe. But it's hot as fuck."
That seemed to relax him. "I guess we got some catching up to do, huh?"
"Sounds that way," I laughed. I looked at my watch. "I guess we should make our way up."
Mike peeled off his shirt. He wasn't fit like Keith, but I loved the view of his body. For all our times together, I'd never seen him head to toe naked. "I'll go get a new shirt," he said, reaching down to pull his shorts back up.
My glass was no longer ice cold, so I swapped it for a fresh one in the freezer. I could use that martini. The first sips were great, and between it and the sex I was glad I'd come out here.
Mike came back out, with a polo shirt that was his version of dressy. He picked up his beer can and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm glad you came, Alex." He was surprisingly on the same wavelength as me.
"Me too," I said.
Mike paused and looked at me more intently. Then leaned in again. Soon we were kissing once more, not just a gotta-fuck kiss. But something else. I guess we'd figure it out this week. And try not to get into too much trouble.
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generational-atrophy · 8 months ago
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omgg i cant stop giggling n kicking my feet BUT can i request gn!reader 'accidentally' leaving a lipstick kiss mark on russia, america, canada, greece and japan before they leave for the day and the countries dont notice until either from a mirror or someone else points it out? AAOUGUGGH
hetalia russia, america, canada, greece, and japan when their s/os leave a kiss in lipstick
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1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons
tw: none!
a/n: hjey guys did you know being a costume director is time consuming? i did not. send help. also enjoythis idk
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Russia
It was never an easy affair to get Ivan out of the house. His clinginess combined with how admittedly boring his job was made it near impossible for him to leave without you forcing him to. Today was one of those days, and you were beginning to think you’d have to leave with him.
"But darling, can't you understand? It's so cold and miserable out there..." He whines as he holds you.
He's got you positioned so that you're standing between his legs while he sits on the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his head resting against your chest. So... no escape available without coaxing.
"I know, I know, but you'll be late..."
"They will be ok without me, but I won't be ok without you!"
All you can do is sigh until you're suddenly struck with an idea. You can't go with him, but you can leave something with him. And looking down at his snow-white skin, you have just the idea.
"But you won't have to be without me, Vanya!" You chide, tilting his head up to look at you. His face lights up instantly.
"What do you mean?"
Instead of responding, you lean down and press a soft kiss against his forehead, leaving a pink imprint of your lips on his face.
"That one was magic, ok? It'll stay with you the whole day, so I'll always be with you!" It's childish, and you're struggling not to laugh, but his innocent expression tells you all you need to know. He'll finally let you go, none the wiser as to what you really meant.
-
"Ah- Mr. Braginsky..." Some random intern was forced to prompt later in the day, his tone fearful as to how Ivan would react.
"Yes?"
"You... you have something on- on your face..."
"Huh?" He reaches up to wipe where the intern had gestured, but only smiles when he comes away with your favourite lipstick. He decides that whatever left can stay... it's just your magic, after all.
America
Alfred was a busy man for all the effort he expended to prevent that exact reality. He'd much rather spend all day playing video games at home with you, but duty calls. Though, now, was just glad that for once, you were busy as well.
“Hey, babe!” He greets you with a bright smile, resting his hand on your shoulder before moving to sit across from you. The meeting spot he had chosen was busy, but at least it wasn't far from either places you two needed to be.
“Were you waiting long?”
“No, not really,“ You respond with a sigh, twirling the straw in your drink.
”Well, that's good because uh- bad news, I won't be able to stay l-“
”Ugh! Seriously?“
He shrinks a little, fidgeting with his hair, ”Yeah, I know, but like- I can't reall-“
”Do they know you're a person? Like, a person who needs to live?“
“Technically, I'm not, babe,” He laughs, “But I appreciate how protective you are anyway.“
He continued to talk with you for a while, about your day, his day, a weird guy he saw on the street, about how you can't keep threatening his boss because he's the president- until after only a few moments, his phone rang.
He sucked in a quick breath and accepted it, only speaking for a second. Then, he got up with a dramatic groan.
“That's my cue. I guess I'll see you later, K?”
But he wasn't about to get away that easy. You shot up, grabbing onto his tie and pulling closer so you could kiss his cheek quickly.
“For good luck,” You assure, and he grins.
-
“What are you guys laughing about?” Alfred asks as soon as he goes back to work, looking nervously at the group of co-workers pointing at him.
“Got something on your face, man!”
Instantly, he realizes what happened and hurriedly wipes it off. His face is red with embarrassment, but he can't deny the butterflies in his stomach.
Canada
No matter how long you've been together, Matthew never stopped trying to be the picture-perfect boyfriend. At least, that's what you thought as he chose to show up with roses when he came to pick you up. It might've been a fancy event, but you're sure no one else would be doing that kind of thing. But who were you this kind of attention?
“Uhm- good evening, Y/N,” He stutters out as you let him come in for a moment.
“Awww, you shouldn't have!“ You take the roses from him and set them aside.
”It- It's nothing, really-“
”Most men wouldn't even think of that anymore...“ You assure him. He looks sheepish now as if he hadn't expected you to like your gift.
”Then- then, um- they should learn how to t-treat their partners...“
How cute. You walk over to him and stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he immediately stiffens and blushes.
“Thank you, Matthew.”
“Ye-Yeah, uh-huh- yeah- y-you're welcome,” He mumbles, looking down in embarrassment. The colour gracing his cheeks almost perfectly matches the mark your lipstick left behind. You begin to say something about it, but before you can, he frantically cuts you off.
“So- we should get g-going right? Right, time to go...” He blurts out, taking your hand and almost dragging you out to the car.
-
Finally, once you two arrived at the event, you gathered the courage to tell him.
While you two walked, arm in arm, up to the main entrance, you suddenly blurted out, ”You have lipstick on your cheek!“
Except by that time, more than a couple of people had seen him. causing him to instantly freeze up.
The colour drained from his face, and he weakly whimpered out, ”Um, c-could you- uh- g-get it?“
You immediately obliged, cleaning off his cheek. He was embarrassed, but it was still on his mind all night.
Greece
“But do you have to?”
“Yes.”
“But-”
“I’m not getting out of this one, ok?”
“But I don’t want you to go…” His protests were typical, but that didn’t make them any less annoying. Although, it’s hard to resist him when he’s clinging to you like a lost puppy and he smells like he just finished cooking.
“It’ll only be a few hours, ok?” You sigh, finally finishing your makeup.
All he can do now is whine softly, which makes you realize there may be only one way to stop his desperate clinginess. You turn around in his arms, take his pleading face in your hands, and press frenzied kisses all over it. Instantly, his eyes light up and his lips form a dopish smile, and you know you’re free.
“Is that better?” You ask, and he nods. But before you let go, you have to admire how silly he looks with your lips painted all over his face.
-
By the time you return home, it’s already dark. The house is quiet, and when you check the time, you realize he would’ve fallen asleep hours ago. But considering how exhausted you are already, it’s nothing but a relief.
When you enter your shared bedroom, your thoughts are confirmed. He’s already passed out, his broad body splayed haphazardly over your blankets. At first, you don’t think anything of it. But when you turn on the light to get ready for bed, you notice the red stains still sitting on his cheeks.
Somehow, throughout the entire rest of the day, he never looked in the mirror long enough to notice the lipstick covering his face. Or, maybe he did, and just decided that your tokens of affection could stay.
Japan
Kiku was never late. Not even when tired, sick, or at war, was he late to anything. So, the one day that he allowed himself to relax with you, was naturally the first day in centuries that he hadn’t been an hour early. 
“It’s gonna be alright!” You call out from the bathroom while you do your makeup, and he doesn’t even waste the time to respond. Even from all the way across the house, you can hear him desperately throwing things together.
“It is not alright!”
“You’ll still be on time!” That doesn’t seem to convince him to calm down at all, as you can hear his panicked breaths growing louder as he makes his way over to the entry door.
“Wait, wait, hold on,” You insist, and he pauses for a moment. When you meet him at the door, he looks a mess. His hair was askew, his eyes wild with panic, and his tie nearly all the way to the side.
You sigh and begin tidying him up. He relaxes under your touch, you can tell even from under his layers of stoicism; although he can’t allow himself to bask in your attention for long.
“I must go-”
“I know, I know, just…” You pull him forward, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushes but doesn’t let that distract him. In a moment, he’s gone out the door.
-
After a frenzied drive into the city, he can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 10 minutes early… not great, but enough. He looks in the mirror one last time, making sure he looks his best before he finally steps out into the public when he notices it. The print of your lipstick, still on his cheek.
His touch lingers on it for a moment, his breathing stilling, before he rubs it off. You’ll just have to replace it later, he tells himself before he finally steps out of the car.
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