#also yes he looks very very very very very very very very good.
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the fact that you can see the exact moment tears appear in his eyes
#i'm not okay#look i'm not very good with words#but like#this is his last attempt to turn lavellan down but he sounds so tired and almost resigned here#like he knows the answer already#but still can't believe that she wants to leave the world behind just to be with him#but he also does want to be with her. so much. and now he's finally free to do so#so maybe that's not even an attempt but just a warning#there's hope in those eyes too#behind his warning is a question “are you sure that's what you want?”#and the answer is yes. because there's no fate but the love they share#dragon age the veilguard#solas#solavellan#datv spoilers#dav spoilers#veilguard spoilers
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no fondling in the dog house
Sirius Black x fem!reader who has to pick him up from the kennel [1.1k words]
CW: talk about fondling bollocks, a police station, Sirius being the least serious person, a good humoured argument between partners, threats of neutering/castration
“Now, ma’am, you are aware that under the highway code, dogs must be kept on a lead?”
“Yes sir.” You offered as earnestly as you could, though you couldn’t help the indignance that coloured your voice at the fact that you were the one being scolded for this misdemeanour right now.
“And that they must be accompanied by their owner.” The enforcement officer continued, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at you for your insolence.
“Of course; I really am sorry, sir.” You offered more sincerely; you were really very sorry that you were here at all.
“They’re also meant to be microchipped by the time they are 8-weeks old.” He continued, sifting through the numerous documents you signed after proving that the large black dog that had been picked up by muggle animal control did, indeed, belong to you.
“Oh, he’s going to be microchipped alright.” You grumbled, adding a quiet “gonna look at having him neutered, too” under your breath.
The officer ignored you as he called to his coworker to bring the stray out.
“What did you say his name was again?”
But before you had a chance to answer, his coworker let out a surprised ‘oof’ when you heard the sound of paws galloping down the kennel hall before a large, long-haired black dog came barrelling through the doorway and sat excitedly at your feet.
“Padfoot.” You offered reproachfully, both in answer to the enforcement officer you just spent the past forty minutes being chastised by and in greeting to your boyfriend who was officially in the dog house.
Padfoot offered you a bark back in response; the enforcement officer still seemed rather displeased with the both of you, but the kennel attendant let out a pleased laugh at the exchange.
“What the fuck?” You asked the dog, to which he responded by nuzzling against your hand with his snout. You gently shoved it away from you.
“He’s really quite a well behaved dog.” The attendant offered, either missing the disbelieving and reproving looks from both you and the enforcement officer respectively, or choosing to ignore them. “Usually strays are all stressy and anxious, but he sat patiently during intake and followed me right to the kennel without any hesitation.”
Padfoot looked between you and the attendant as if saying “did you hear that? I was good!” whilst you and the officer both stared at them a little bit longer before you ultimately broke the silence. “Yeah,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure he was a real treat.”
“Don’t forget to invest in a tag for him.” The officer called as you slid a collar and lead onto Padfoot.
“Will do, officer. I really am sorry for all of this. I swear, it will not happen again.”
Seemingly appeased, he waived you off, and you and Padfoot exited the police station.
You dropped the lead and let Padfoot drag it himself as you turned down the alleyway - nearly snapping your wand with the force you used to tap the enchantment that brought you back to the magical side of London - and stepped right into Diagon Alley.
“Baby-”
“Oh don’t you baby me, Sirius.” You hissed as you turned on your heel to glower at your boyfriend; you watched his cupid’s bow flatten as he folded his lips over his teeth in an attempt to keep from laughing, though you were pleased that the furrowing of his brows and the fact that he was wringing the collar and lead between his hands let you know he was at least somewhat contrite. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?”
“Uhm, I think it was a little bit more embarrassing for me, doll. The intake form asked if I was altered or not, which ultimately saw that attendant fondling my bollocks.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you hated that.” You spat as you turned on your heel, fighting against the smile that threatened to take over your face at Sirius’ bark of laughter.
“Baby, I’m sorry. You know you’re the only one I like fondling my bollocks.” He laughed as he jogged to catch up to you.
“Yeah well, it won’t be happening any time soon, I can tell you that much for free.”
“Oh come now.”
“What were you even doing!?” You asked then, stopping in the spot and nearly causing Sirius to collide with you.
“I may have said something to James, Remus, and Pete about how stags love Padfoot, and they argued that Prongs didn’t exactly count as a stag, so I wanted to prove them wrong.”
“They dared you, didn’t they?” You surmised, hearing Sirius’ half truth for what it was.
“It wasn’t so much of a dare as it was a scientific experiment-”
“Sirius.”
“Okay! Okay, yes, they dared me. So, I figured I’d head over to Richmond Park and befriend myself a stag. I would have, too! If that fuckin’ auror hadn’t gone and foiled my plan.”
“They’re called officers, Sirius.” You corrected darkly. “You were caught by muggle officers.”
“Why do you think you had to pick me up!?” Sirius exclaimed then. “I couldn’t very well turn back into myself and explain the situation away. And you know I’m pants at obliviation.”
“Shame.” you huffed as you carried on towards Gringotts. “I was hoping you could obliviate this entire memory for me.”
“I would, too. Better than being stuck in the dog house.” Sirius muttered, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “Where are we going?”
“The bank.”
“Why?”
You halted in your quest again, this time causing Sirius to trip in his attempt to avoid slamming into you. “You owe me - I had to bail you out, Sirius! They charged me fines; I have a record now.”
“Completely fair, doll. I’ll be right back.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your cheek that had you pretending to shove him away before he started towards the bank.
“And take out enough to buy yourself a collar and a tag with my contact information on it!” You shouted, pausing before you added “And enough for ice cream!”
“Consider it done, babe. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” you called as you started walking towards Flourish and Blotts, “you’re getting microchipped.”
You didn’t need to turn around to know that Sirius was looking at you quizzically. “What’s a microchip?” He called as you kept walking. “Babe? Oi, babe! What’s a microchip!?”
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#the marauders era#marauders#padfoot#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x fem!reader#fem!reader#sirius black fic#sirius black ficlet#sirius black imagine#sirius black fluff#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#ellecdc fics
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INTERLUDE
m reader x haewon // 9k words
You’ll give credit where it’s due.
If not for her, you wouldn’t be here - and if not for you, she would have quit the logistical side of the show business a long, long time ago.
She's written her own sweet, tragic, but beautiful tale of madness; willing to stay amidst the whirlwinds of shit she’s put herself through, and you can somewhat see as to why.
It’s when she’s let herself into the space of your apartment, hours past of the usual and typical workday. Most of the reasons in this case have their own tales and periods of reflection the next morning - though, a common thread of events that you’ve been accustomed to is the trail of her heels leading a path to the couch, her handbag tossed off to the opposite end, sinking into the cushions. She’s tired, and very unbothered.
You’re doing your own pat down not far from her. A jacket’s tossed onto the nearby chair of your dining table; the usual essentials of your phone, wallet, and one of many pairs of glasses also find their place away from your reach.
“Since when the hell did you snag my keys from me?” You ask, patting down the quartet of pockets to realize the sudden item wasn’t part of the things you rummaged off your body.
“It’s called sleight of hand, dear.” Haewon says, a phone spinning in the air and to a nearby pillow, “That’s what happens when you leave a key with me after our last outing. Have someone to blame? Let that be yourself.”
“I was wondering why you were taking longer getting out of the car.”
“Girls like to take their sweet time.”
“Your point being?”
“My point?” She sits up and leans forward, diverting her attention towards one of the gacha items that you got as a gift from one of her clients - a token of gratitude, for being wonderful with me - you recall the memory for a split second, and Haewon keeps on flipping it around between her fingers. “Don’t get too pressed now. It’s not like you would be locked out of your house for that long. Besides, your landlord’s seen me with you more times than he can count. If I were to ask him for the master key, he’d probably say yes.”
“Speculation,” you breathe, “Honestly, you can try, and I think you could be on his good side for all I know.”
A few wisps of her hair fall far off the side, and she pulls it back with a single finger. Even in the dimmest of lightings, you can still see the small twinge of her nose pulling back, flaring her nostrils. Then she flicks her eyes back toward you, hooking. “You’ve always let me lead the way, and you’re following not far behind.”
You’re tending to the cuffs of your shirt, rolling them up just below the elbows. “I do a whole lot more than just my job.”
“Tch,” Haewon’s got the tip of her tongue on her upper teeth. “You know well enough that it cuts both ways.”
Almost as if this was practiced on cue, these sliding strides you make as Haewon picks herself up from her seat, it’s like two characters taking center stage. The lighting’s barely peeking through for you to see where everything’s leveled. Doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, Haewon’s frame is the only thing you see, the weight on your shoulders start to droop from the imaginary weight on them. You can probably settle with how the luminating radiance of the night sky showers her porcelain skin or the way her silhouette molds itself in the meshing colors of this cozy dark blue pooling through behind her. There’s also the fleeting realization that this is your space that she’s nestling in. But you can’t ignore the sudden occasional chill that sweeps through every time she walks in - even when it’s after hours, the effect is still in play.
Haewon’s treating another few strands of her hair behind her ear before looking down at the small toy on your table top. “Not a bad idea for you to start a collection going.”
You glance over her shoulder and pull a firm grin across your face. “You know, I was a bit perplexed in why she gave that to me in the first place - after I politely refused so many times.” A shake of your head and a sigh follows instantly after. “But the more I look at it, it’s pretty cute to have. Brings a whole lot of variety in the place right off the bat.”
Haewon dips her head down, hiding a subtle smirk when touches the tips of her socks on the floor. “I know that you fancy your books and everything but, I was happy that you took her gift in the end.”
“Expecting me to just say no?”
“Blind boxes are a life lesson too. People expect one thing and when they don’t get what they want, they’re pretty torn to whether to be happy or not with what they pulled. Now that I think about it, the same lesson can be seen in Forrest Gump when he’s sitting on the bench with the old lady.”
“A lot of people can resonate with Forrest in that moment. Probably because almost everybody’s got something that they didn’t want in the first place, and I’ll take your word for it.” You slide your hands into your pockets, rolling your shoulders back. “Makes people appreciate the many things they have.”
Haewon cocks her head towards her left, bringing it back upright once her body’s facing yours. You’re holding your breath here for a second, swallowing a lump of nervousness down your throat. She’s got it all: the intellect, the beauty, the poise. Each and every single one of those thoughts crosses both ways in your mind, it’s been like that since you got paired with her. The authenticity of her presence doubles down what’s written on paper. Like any fool in this scenario, you carry on, thinking about all of the things you’d never thought you’d do with her - the way she tries to hide the growing blush on her face when your arms hold her, how her eyelids lower their guard when you’re closing the proximity to mere inches, how she sighs with a finger pressed to her temple before whipping some of her hair back - adorable, and perfect. There’s really no other way to describe it, or her; even if she’s not very adamant into accepting the meaningful compliments.
“Maybe you’re right.” Her small frame nestles itself easily at your front and she’s happily dancing her fingers at the pointe end of your necktie, fiddling along with the button beneath it. You’re deluding yourself at the imaginary tug she has on you and she’s barely laid a finger. “Scratch that, I wholeheartedly agree.”
You’d wish that you could make a quick snapshot back to the very time you first unraveled her in your home, on an evening whim just like this. The proposition of pulling up a mental calendar and ripping off the pages backwards to a full two years of working with her. Though, you’re able to automatically deduce the fact of the time you and her actually spent working together - a good portion of those cases in the sheets which is worth considering - but despite all that, there’s a good report to draw up in your head where the times flowed in fluctuations, much like in a spectrogram. Some of the days with her peaked higher than the rest, and others were on the opposite end of the spectrum. That’s just how this rapport- this relationship was.
Haewon never really dabbled with the idea of putting a label on this ‘thing’ you have with her.
It could be a relationship, or maybe it couldn’t. She would always immediately shut down that thought circling around your brain.
A tried and true method in getting your hopes up. And each and every time she shot your heart down. It would send you in limbo for what feels like an endless string of days, the firm tone with her delivery very clear and straight to the point. You can’t help yourself in waiting for something to change; heck, it’s possibly everything you ever wanted with her.
It also didn’t help when the people in your inner circle were already in their own walks of life, blooming into something beautiful with their significant others; while you’re sitting off to the side, watching them from a distance as it feels like with every passing day, you’re falling further and further behind. There isn’t enough space in your journal, let alone the selection of drinks to choose from after being downed, but the feeling remains all the same - it’s a harrowing want to fill that depression oh-so desperately.
“Whatever happened to ‘keeping things professional’?” Dipping your head down as the tip of your nose hovers right above her head, catching the first few whiffs of that oceanic scent used in her shampoo. “Wasn’t it your words exclusively that we would stop what we’re doing now? At this moment?”
This time, you were the one to raise that wall up, hoping that it’ll stick after being broken down so many times.
“Mine?” Haewon blurts out once her hands finally reach to the lines of your shoulders, palms sliding along the fabric of your shirt. “What about it? Don’t try to flip this back on me when we were just talking outside in the staircase and then you decided to push me against the door, perch my chin up and-”
“Haewon.”
“One night. That one night. You-”
“Haewon.” You know that she’s primarily the one who likes to repeat herself at times to get her point across, but not tonight.
She sighs, head falling forward in your chest. “Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, those were my words, and I stand by them. She’s trying her hardest to ignore your overwhelming stature, because she knows your truth; she knows, and knows, and knows.“But that doesn’t mean that what I tell you is enough to sway your mind, nor your choice.”
Her words tell you one thing, but her body welled up against yours tells you another.
“Haewon,” you repeat again, blinking it through. Your voice slightly chokes up when her thumb skates up the line of your jaw, letting her pull get the best of you, breath canvassing the slope where your chin and neck meet. “You’re not helping yourself here.”
“It’s been a long day,” she admits, kissing you foolishly, her fingers slither to the back of your head. Your hands have a mind of their own while it tries to scrounge up what’s left of her melting figure, humming gently into your skin. “You could’ve like- taken me home, or something. Rather than bring me here, because we both know how this story goes.”
“Don’t get all sensical with me now,” you say to her, hand quick to her wrist in an attempt to stop her, but she’s seen that card played before. “You were the one to tell me to get the hell out of the office as fast as we could, and here we are.”
Haewon flashes her eyes at you, narrowing her expression with the simple tilt of her head. “I guess you’re right. Either I call a cab home or have you as my personal driver. Looks like the second option was the best one to pick between the two.”
“You did look tired.”
“Because I am.” Her eyebrows ruffle against each other when you drop the blunt response as she returns to the slacked neck along with her wrists. “After the shitstorm with Bae, and then with Sullyoon? God, don’t even get me started. You were there when everything went down.”
“In fact I was.”
She scowls with a much more dragged out tone with her voice, the stress pressing down on her lips returning to their familiar parted place. “I’m trying so hard to not think about it, but it’s just- ugh.”
“A problem to be dealt with tomorrow,” you tell her, hands bringing her closer to your waist. “Just don’t think.”
“Easy for you to say.” Haewon deadpans, her face shifting flat with dead eyes. “And it’s easier for it to be said than done.”
“Why not do it, then?”
“Huh?”
“I’m asking you to not focus on work for once, genius.”
“This is me not focusing on work,” she says, pouting, “you’re the one who’s not letting me go in the first place.”
You manage to look away for a quick second, closing your eyes to fight back the growing cringe rising on your face. “Says the one who waltzed into my house and arms right now.”
Haewon lets out another dry laugh, resting the side of her face below your collar, pulling down on the slightly untied knot. “Well, I guess I can let you have that over me. I’ll admit that.”
A deep inhale puffs up your chest as you’re carding your fingers into those coffee brown locks of her hair, massaging her temple.
“Consider that to be one of your few wins against my arguments. Why bother tell you my personal thoughts about the details we talked about in the meetings earlier, or even in the office.” She sighs again deeply, burrowing herself into your embrace. “What I would do to give that pretty dumbass a-”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that to her earlier, by the way.”
Haewon looks up again, recalling for a quick second, closing her lips before sounding a simple hum. “Right, I guess I did.”
“You don’t have to handle this all by yourself, you know.”
“What if I want to, hm?” She beams. The flip in her mood is always an anomaly in the way that she’s brushing herself up closer to you. “You know my business - my affairs, but I didn’t tell you all of them.”
You’re well familiar with the playing field she’s setting up here. It’s a battleground that’s seen it all between the two of you, the losses outweighing the victories (and by an overwhelming margin on her end too). She’s always the one to initiate, to set up, your thoughts already getting ahead with the same downward tilt of your head, hands caressing the fabric of her skirt, finding a familiar hold of her hips like one would always do at the start of every slow dance.
Of course you stay silent, blinking. “Well- Haewon, I’ve got no other choice but to hear you ramble all about them, since it’s my job.”
“You know most of them.”
“Like you said: most.”
Haewon rests herself into you, the lines of tape gradually coming undone. The scent of her shampoo hits your nose a little bit harder this time, her palms sliding up across your chest again. She innocently tilts her head up, parting her lips; tiny, rosy, and dangerously inviting. You have no other thought filling your mind but to lift her up and capture her all to yourself.
Her lips are like putty - easy to form and mold into the shape that you like. But you pull yourself back, a last line of defense before her eyes and hands have their own say. “Could you say that this is a choice too?”
“Hm.” She tilts herself upwards into the line of your neck, each quick kiss sending both your heart and mind into echelons higher than cloud nine, melting with every touch until she has your head in between her palms, holding you gently. The blinks she gives are slow, and her breath hitting your face leaves you to your own devices. “What you do with me is always a choice.”
You retreat for a moment, pulling yourself far away where you can, Haewon’s body still within reach in your arms, forming a wall of air between the space of your chest and hers. “I feel like what we do is already risky as it seems, no? Sure, we see each other on a regular basis, deal with what needs to be done with the day, talking to clients, making sure things are right for the events, going back and forth with no definite pause in between.” Didn’t matter if she was out of the country or mere inches away from you, she’s always about work it seems - like that was the only mode programmed in her mind. “More often than not, I’m treating what damage is done which usually ends up with a few bottles of beer and don’t even get me started on how bad of a lightweight you are-”
“Uh, rude.” Haewon pays no attention to you. Her thumb grazes your cheek again, and you can’t help the way that you’re leaning into her touch, once realizing that what you said might be too much. You feel your head being reeled in lower and lower, until you feel the tip of her nose hit the cuff of your ear. “But you’re not wrong, and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me that way.”
Nodding was something that you always used to acknowledge her opinions or thoughts, and it isn’t any different here.
However, your hands are playing a different role: traversing their way into the two small divots below the small of her back, resting just right above her ass. She’s getting herself more and more comfortable, undoing the first three buttons of her shirt, inviting you to dive into the new opening. You keep on gazing into her slightly swollen lips, studying at how quickly her tongue wets the bottom part, and you draw another swift inhale past your teeth before answering, “There’s no need for you to apologize, especially to me.”
Haewon keeps on pulling the undone tie, the knot basically nonexistent the more she pulls down, eventually sliding it out of your collar and onto the floor. She gives it a quick glance when it pools over her feet and yours, and her lapin eyes land on yours again, bottom lip captured between her teeth. “I just feel bad, you know? And part of me thinks that it’s only a matter of time until you’ve had enough and want to-”
You shut her up before she keeps up the self-lament, meshing her lips against yours, wanting her to be persuaded in a different manner - one with less words and more actions.
Drawing back, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And even if I ever had the chance to, I’d straight up say no.”
“Look at you, so easygoing.”
“I-”
“At some point,” she breathes, ghosting her face over yours, tugging on that want for you to chase after. “I’d thought you’d give up on forgiving me.”
“For?”
“Anything, really.” Haewon answers admittedly. “Whether it’s here or in the office, you have that same look in your eyes, the one filled with sorrow. It hurt me a bit.”
Maybe right now would be the time to remind her that what she’s thinking is nothing but complete bullshit.
So you lean down again, and pull her close. Another snapshot taken in the back of your mind.
Two years is a long time. Two years of the same routine over and over, of working with her, unwinding after the long hours hidden away from everyone else, watching her work herself down to the bone, doing all of these things as if she’s going to die in the next five seconds if she doesn’t keep going. She’s rising to every occasion that she can, moving so fast that you can’t even bear to keep up with her. You’d admire from a distance, in awe, all while you’re at her right-hand side, unwilling to say anything to her. Obviously when she needed to get her mind off of something, or everything for that matter, she wasn’t the kind of person to be upfront about what she wants and let you read into the signs. Luckily, you’ve always noticed at a glance, and even if she isn’t the one to puff out her lips and kiss you first. No. Never. That’s a luxury that’s reserved for you and only you. Because all it takes is one look into your eyes, and the way she’s broken you down like this, she’s very aware of what your downfall is: her.
All of this is a continuation of a growing culmination, her own personal anthology sprouted from her brain, one which you’ve caught wind of gradually.
When you’re kissing into her again, hard, you start to feel everything around you collapse. It’s in the way that she smiles against your lips, matching every curve you give her - it’s amazing, and you could write poems of all the good things about Haewon - you’re reminded again and again how out of all the moments in the high achieving days and miserable nights, these instances feel just right. She’s drawing air into her nose, grazing your cheek, never wanting to pull each other away; until you’re sucking the oxygen out of each other’s mouths that leaves the both of you suffocating a bit. It’s all foolish, maybe just a bit, and to hell with the consequences awaiting you at the end of the bridge, because she knows that she’ll be in a safe place as long as it’s with you.
The arch in her back rises, and you’re clinging tighter into her smaller frame, shoulder bunching up next to her neck, making it easier for you to hold. You can tell her breaths and hums are getting desperate, her own little mess up the more she melts into you.
You’re not helping her in this situation, and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve done this to her. She’s hooking her arm well around your neck, the only line of support while you’re taking care of the rest, letting her wrists fall slack as you keep on your loving siege on her lips.
She’s had a rough one this week. A red eye flight back from a fashion week, an entire day of going to ten different locations with one of her top clients, then there’s the whole incident with Bae and Sullyoon back to back. Amongst all of those things, you’d wish that you’d sweep her away for just a second and take her mind off from all the pressures and stress (and you definitely wished you didn’t wait until now to finally do it).
“Mmmm,” Haewon lets her voice rumble in her throat, tightening her grip in the back of your collar, signaling you to pull away. When you do, her eyes pool into yours, shimmering pupils working overtime to map out the lines of your face. You could feel the heat from her cheeks grow warmer. Her eyes cross for a second. She lets her head go crestfallen, pulling this one smile, her simplest smile, the rarest one she could ever have that not a lot of people have had the pleasure of seeing. The gentlest and most genuine one that she could have, it sells the whole thing to you. Despite her tough shell, you realize that she’s one of the rare few that sends your heart flipping, every time she’s got your guard lowered - exactly in the way like this - it’s impossible to ignore the outshining tempts when all of your inhibitions are at their lowest.
Her head goes one side, and then the opposite, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this.”
Today’s been one of those days. You’re tired, even beyond tired. If she didn’t come with you, the bed would’ve been full by now. Two years of the on and off and the off and on, it’s draining. You don’t say anything, as always. Instead, you swoop down beneath her thighs and carry her, taking her lips all to yourself.
She hums this heavenly noise when you press her against the wall, her legs hooking to a familiar spot where it hasn’t been in a while. Some of the buttons in her shirt come more undone not to your knowledge, but you play the counterpart when tending to the clip and zipper of her skirt. Luckily your body can work in two places at once, returning your focus to Haewon’s face, a sweep of her tongue over your bottom lip.
The pressure to her waist is not too little nor too much, but just the right amount of press when your leg plays this momentary support underneath her legs, helping her slip out of her shirt while she does the same to you. Almost like you’re opening the pages of a book you finished reading, but flipping through to a certain part like the untouched skin of her chest with her simple black bra playing as the final back line of garments waiting to be discarded. She does that part all by herself, indulging on the breadth of her collarbone, forcing her to bite down a soft moan.
Haewon here isn't one to play nice. There’s a bit of a tug-of-war going on with your mouths until you gnaw on her lips a bit too hard, wanting you to do that again the way her face is chasing after yours. But her eyes find their place in line again, gaze softening - you’re cursing at yourself because of how beautiful she looks like this. She’s always been one to have a heart of steel, create that dam covering her fragile trust, her arms wrap you in her embrace, eyes hinting at a sign of concern. The flame in your heart has gone cold, but she’s always been the one fanning the fire back to life.
When you let her down gently, back sliding against the smooth drywall, her arms shift over her head - opening up the area of her midriff to see, to feel. Your palms have never felt anything smoother until they’re slipping the skirt off from her hips, curling over the waistband of her underwear and she fills the open space between your mouths, “fix me up baby, please.”
Most of her solid-colored panties get caught between your knuckles, skating down her thigh - you’re hunting, searching, till you reach that empowering heat between her thighs. You could feel the top part of her forearm press firmly on the nape of your neck while one of her shoulder blades drags itself against the wall behind her.
A drag up, then down across her folds, and she rasps.
You get a finger in, maybe two just to test, feeling her body tense and grasp and hook onto anything within her reach. Little by little, piece by piece, Haewon’s gradually reduced to these mere meeked noises and hums the more your hands and lips begin their grand assault across the fine canvas of her body. The wetness consumes your fingers, and your mouth increasingly gets greedy as you’re nibbling away at the firm mound of her now exposed breasts, her bra gone in one swift move, mind focusing on too many feelings all at once.
Her head lolls up and over, opening up the left side of her neck for you to take, gasping. She can’t stop squirming in place, and you’ll deal with that soon enough. “I love your hands,” she sighs. “God, you sure know how to satisfy a woman.”
Your brain is working on the clock, finding all of the niche places and spots on her body to get her needy for more, and she’s playing spectator, the pad of your tongue swipes upward at the midline of her chest, capturing the hard bud of her nipple between your thumb and index, twisting without a care of her quick pain.
Haewon gets both of her hands around your head, pulling you up from drowning beneath her neck, showering your face with kisses, forehead pressing against yours, “Happy with your reward?”
You’ll give credit where it’s due. You hate how intoxicating she is with the snarky remarks and fast banter, but you love how simple she is to break down - send her mind into a downward spiral. She could let you ruin her life, and it would be the same for you.
It takes a moment too long to consider, your brain is running through the playbook of all the moves and positions you could have her in, which spot in your house would be the most ideal place to simply just bend her over and tear her insides apart until she won’t be able to walk or think straight. A woman like her: clothes pooled and scattered everywhere at her feet, swollen lips and tattered skin just waiting to be ruined.
Haewon knows you well, where all she has to do is say something to snap your attention back to her: “How do you want me?”
She’s selfish, there’s no denying that. Though, she doesn’t really care what you think when she’s kissing you shamelessly once more, smushing and smacking her lips across your face, letting her have her way and to sink into her body again. But here is where she forgets, another callback of the few other times she got too ahead of the curve too soon-
“I think I find you to be prettier when you’re like this,” you tell her, quickly sinking down to your knees moving her thighs over your shoulders; get your face close to that warm, delightful fountain between her thighs when you lift her up from the floor, holding her there.
-to realize that you too, are also selfish in your own accord; at some point, there’s a time to prove who has what between the two of you, and the sigh of acknowledgment slipping out of her lips gives just enough that you’re doing something right.
It all could’ve gone wrong for Haewon at any given point in the time you’ve been working with her. All it took was a few mishaps both in and out of her control and she would’ve snapped. In those dire times of need, she had you. Whether it’d be your mouth or your fingers, the way you settle into these well-practiced strokes of your tongue and cock, and she loves to travel down the little rite of passage when you shut her up with a palm on her mouth or a hand to her throat. She knows that you have your limits, and it’s all in her cards for when she’s able to unshackle you from your common sensibilities. A hand is raked into your hair as you’re shifting your head closer and closer, until your breath starts to blanket her leaking entrance, awaiting for your arrival.
There’s a few mumbles spilling out of her lips when you gently kiss her folds, brush your nose right up against her clit, to where her head bucks forward, giving an unintentional style of wispy bangs the more your mouth starts to scoop up the mess that you’ve created. Her hips buck and jerk, pressing your head deeper into her quivering pussy lips, wanting to get that ache so much faster than intended.
“God, yes baby- right there,” is all she says, and she can barely manage to prop her head upright when you look up from below.
A chuckle leaves your nose, arming a coy smile before you carry on your attention onto her swollen clit, sucking and teasing on it shamelessly until you start to feel the insides of her thighs shake against your ears, digging her nails deep into your scalp.
“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, feeling the pressure of Haewon’s legs crushing your skull from within. “Looks like you’ve been pent up for a while now, no?”
Haewon digs a heel into your back, making you secure the tops of her thighs with your fingers, hitting her head back on the wall. “Among other things.”
“Really.” You reply flatly, giving her another swift lick of your tongue into her aching cunt, her slick pooling across the wet pad. “Because judging how your body’s reacting, you’ve been wanting me badly since the last time.”
“Sounds perfectly right.”
She loses that hefty persona pretty damn quickly when you’re diving into her pussy again, stifling a moan, grinding her hips into your head, wanting you to keep on licking until she’s had enough (spoiler alert: she hasn’t.) “Do tell me more,” you’re telling her, smacking your lips to the heat, “if you’re able to, of course.”
“Seriously. Fuck you.”
“Says the one who’s technically my boss.”
“Not when it’s after hours I’m not.”
“What are you implying?”
Haewon’s eyes squint a bit, trying to keep focus, doubling down on the indulgence of your tongue over her folds. Her face is in a rosy shade of pink, similar to when she’s usually drunk - but this shade however, you’d prefer to see her more in. “Stop pretending to play dumb. I know you can read between the lines here.”
“And what if I want to be oblivious for once? Like in every situation that we’re in while at work?”
“You’re not, ah-”
You’re not giving her any chance to breathe here. She doesn’t deserve it. And when you lather her pussy up in your spit, it’s less than an act of mercy, helplessly whining at the harshful gnawing you’re doing to her poor cunt - it’s what she wants, and she has no one to blame for making you like this but herself.
“If you’re not my boss during these hours, then what are you?” You inquire.
“I’ll be anything but your boss. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
That’s all the confirmation that you needed, forcefully plummeting her down to her inevitable demise. You feel the muscles in her thighs clench in shock from the unexpected anticipation, biting down her shriek the more you dive into the endless depths of her entrance, satisfying that want that you and her so desperately wanted.
“Oh,” Haewon sighs out as some epiphany. But the moment of relief washes over her in no time, her layers folding. Collapsing. Her entire body wiggles in this circular motion. “Oh.”
The heavenly chorus of her mewls fill your ears when you’re cementing your pace, wreaking havoc between her thighs. She’s still got her hand gripping the back of your head, the other flat on the wall. Her stomach bucks and folds at the weight of your tongue, moving your head around in different directions to make sure that you’re hitting every spot with the right approach. The pleasure is building in all of the right places, and you can feel the curl of her toes on your back, ensuring that you’re doing the exact job as her personal toy. “Fuck. Right there, right there.”
It only increases the flood by tenfold. She’s spilling more and more you kiss, swirl, nibble, and tease - doing everything you can to make sure she reaches that unimaginable peak first. “You’re so good. You’re so so good. Baby- don’t stop, oh my god-”
Haewon can’t help herself here, leaning her back deeper into the wall and dragging her hips outward, keeping both legs on your shoulders to the best that she can, unable to let up with the bucks and jolts her hips are making into your face. Every quick rush of air past her teeth only holds so much until she starts to feel her stomach bunch up in knots.
“T-tongue, dear. Oh jesus, you’re so good at- fuck!” she yelps, the tailends of her breaths tattered in these hushed moans, picking up in volume the more you slurp up her pussy to your heart’s content. “Almost, almost.”
You’re well aware of the fact that Haewon is one of the main catalysts when it comes to operating her job. She’s second to none. The standard. The spearhead. She’s got one of the most sizable clientele’s for a reason. But the jaws of work can consume anybody in this climate, no matter how on top or perfect they can be. It would only be a matter of time for the fatigue to get to her - and with the recent events happening around the office, it did just that. Everyone needs a break from time to time, and she’s no different here. A tongue laps up one spot past the clit, there’s a nibble of her swollen folds between your teeth, and here is where you step up to the role of ensuring that Haewon gets her much deserved intermission here.
“Right there, I’m gonna-ah! -umming,” Haewon wails, failing to let up with the oral assault on her quivering cunt, her cries filling up your ears, the muscles of her legs locking your back in place, fingers tugging the roots of your hair. “Cumming. I’m fucking cumming.”
These puppy eyes you do to look up, she gazes down, bottom lip still stuck to her teeth as her expression tears, coming down from her needed stress relief. You stay the course in holding her steady, taking account of the lingering twitches and tensions of muscle her body does.
And not long after, you finally let her down from the wall. Her arms slither around the familiar profiles of your back, lazily planting her lips onto your skin again - Haewon wants another taste of you. It’s also kind of cute how her toes stack up on top of your feet, prompting you to lead the way into the bedroom while she’s closely tethered to you.
“Love it. Love it so much.” Haewon sighs out, half-lidded eyes caught in your vision. “Love it when you make me cum like that.”
It’s one of the few moments where she doesn’t expect a response from you, because it’s already true.
Above everything, you carry on with your steps as Haewon’s lips continue to spell out these hushed curses - all the things that she wants you to do to her - her fantasies, the praises, what she likes you doing and what she wants to do to you with the intent of returning the favor. Her figure is so light in your hands and on your feet, limbs loose enough to bend and twist, a marked up canvas ready for another brush-to-paper moment.
Gravity here does it’s own thing when she falls backward onto the mattress of your room, her arms doing this natural reflex of going above her head, carving up these unbelievable curves in real time to where her back is off the comforters and her left foot is inching up against her inner right thigh. This image alone was enough for you to mindlessly slip out of your pants and underwear, eyes fixed on Haewon rolling her body: belly facing down, back up, her knees dig deep into the sheets, the upper half stretching a bit while her lower half rises up past your thighs, rounding out her hips.
Her knees spread wider across the sheets and her back dips, you think - just a bit, and the look she does over her shoulder is the right amount of lethality. You don’t even flinch when she manages to get her fingers onto the length of your cock, telling you the only thing she wants you to do:
“Take this cock and fuck me.”
You’d follow her words no matter what.
Like a siren’s call out in the sea, the sound of Haewon’s voice comes off as this daring risk where the mind starts to slowly reduce itself around her hand, languidly pumping you to the point where the urge to rip the fun out of her is impossible to ignore.
“I’ve always wondered,” she starts to say.
You lean down to shower a few kisses to her neck, fingers sliding up to her waist, pressing for a firm hold while an airy giggle passes her lips.
“How long have you dealt with me? Being like this?
“Where would I even start?” You hunch over with a trail of kisses down her lower back, cupping the swell of her ass while noting that most of her slick has spread past the underside and to the back of her thighs. “I don’t even remember who made the first move back then.”
Haewon reaches out for one of your pillows, setting it between her arms and chest, “I’m sure it was you, or maybe it was me. Maybe-”
A wistful gasp stops her from talking when you slowly press your cock into her leaking pussy, lips slicked up and inviting between those lovely thighs of hers. You drink in the sight of the grip she has around your length as you continue to ease yourself into her, keeping it together poorly before the heat and her pulse gets to your head.
“Maybe what?” you tell her, attempting to bring back her train of thought from fleeing away.
This girl who’s backside is arched so high up in the air and stomach buried deep into the sheets looks over her shoulder again, eyes filled with tension - a fire blazing beneath the irises. “Maybe- you were just oblivious about the signals I was sending you, but now that we’re here, I guess you can say that you made the curve.”
“I won’t deny anything here-” Everything about this is the reality, anyway. You drag and push yourself into the fluttering heat of her second pair of lips. Her body is so responsive in the wants and needs just from the wetness alone, but she knows that you’re not easy to take. “That was an argument I lost a while ago.”
Your hips flush with Haewon’s and she whines, shoving her face into the pillow set in front of her as she relaxes into the stable pace. A simple yank of her waist back to your thighs serves the only preamble, the quick groan ripped out of your chest, that rush of wanting this tightness and addicting feeling more and more.
“Right?” You’re asking again, meshing her hips with yours, leaning forward and down to the nape of her neck. Sighs joining together in an impromptu chorus, “I’m not denying you winning me over.”
Haewon’s hands here go a bit haywire, shooting up and out. One of them comes to grips with the comforter beneath her. You watch her body move, ass rippling through every pump back into her cunt. “Yeah, but you-”
Her head then dips down into the pillow again, writhing in the twists left and right. You catch yourself hobbling over her upper body once more, lip trapped to your teeth. “You said ‘yeah’. Let’s keep it that way.”
A gradual rhythm gets developed here, taking in every wonderful inch of Haewon’s dripping cunt, shaft picking up more and more slick with ease in every passing stroke. She’s so wonderfully tight around your length, molding to your cock like it’s the missing piece that makes her feel complete, and whole. There’s an attempt to level herself parallel to the mattress, but you don’t give her any kind of luxury whatsoever, pushing down on the small of her back that deepens the arch, nudging your cockhead down further past the threshold of her calefaction.
You’re blinking, you’re believing, and you’re pretty much swearing to the heavens above at the thought out realization that Haewon was meant to be yours - like she was made for only you. She’s in the right position, taking you at just the right angle, all sensibilities hanging on a singular thread. Every hit spills out a quick phrase of pants, watch her struggle in keeping her head upright, a slacking neck in response with the consistent slaps of your hips into hers.
Her slick creates these scattered strings across the skin - not only to the tops of your thighs, but to her ass as well, the sound of her moans bouncing off the walls once they start to rise up a bit in volume.
“Fucking-” and it’s right at this moment, where she sounds relieved, it all comes down with a firm grind of her teeth, “fuck.”
“Yeah?” You hum.
“It’s so-” the blowback of your cock into her cunt becomes a little too much to bear, “it’s so fucking good.”
You’re holding her in place, right at the hips, the unbelievable form of her ass rocking back and forth with every shift of motion caused by you. The low light of your humidifier works its hours on the nightstand, illuminating the comfy and watered colors onto her skin. She’s drenched in this soft honey shade, laying ruin of the pale sheets on her knees and elbows - face gazing to the window, proffering up these listless praises to fill up your head.
The thing is: this isn’t the first time that you and her were like this. There’s an absolute certainty that someone living in either the floors above or below your room has heard everything that’s happened within these walls. Surely someone minding their own business walking along the sidewalk outside has seen Haewon’s gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass, her face full of rapture and pleasure - not having any sense of respect or decency to keep it in the room. You remember railing her poor pussy out on the balcony one time; and that was an issue for the landlord to bring up the following day, but neither you nor her really cared.
What really mattered here, was fucking her brains out. Easy as that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god-”
Every word that’s punctuated out of her lips starts to collapse on top of each other, the impact of your thrusts siphoning the last bits of air trapped in her lungs. She isn’t making her condition any better, suffocating herself deep into the pillow, hoping to drown out the wet noises of her cunt slipping your cock in with refined precision. This choking grip is more dangerous than her hands, her hitched breaths are in no comparison to your labored huffs, slowing your movements with one forceful drive in, a massage of her asscheeks here, another drag and thrust back into her tight cunt, and a playful slap to her ass, tainting the slick skin in red.
“Baby, your fucking cunt,” you hiss. “Jesus christ.”
A whiny ‘mhm-” is all you manage to get out of Haewon, breaking underneath your weight. Her ass is still facing up, face shoved into the pillow, nicking her neck up for air, fucking her down the curve of her spine. “Oh my goodness. You got it so deep. Hit me hard. Please, and I swear to fuck - ngh-”
You’re groaning, increasing the sway of your hips into hers, “So fucking tight.” Haewon’s hands manage to find yours, holding the swell of her ass together, moving her body the opposite direction away from you, meeting the impact down the middle which sends your balls lightly tapping the nub of her clit. She knows that you’ve been working a bit too much for your own sake, so she goes on ahead and has her own fun, fucking herself back onto your cock, the recoil alone enough for you to just freeze on your knees and take it.
“S’that feel good?” she asks innocently.
Spilling out another expletive, you angle your hips up as her ass comes crashing down.
“You’re so hard for me,” Haewon continues, looking over with her body still pressed against the sheets, the left side of her face smiling at the sight of you trying to hold it together. “This cock fits so well inside- jesus, ah- had to let yourself go for a bit, didn’t you?”
“If you keep your hips moving with my hands tied, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
The plot was already lost from the first dirty thought you had with her.
Her ass keeps your lower half in check, unknowingly moving through muscle memory while the walls of your room continue to reverberate the stuttering breaths and quick curses slipping out of both of your lips. Your hands hold still in tandem with her fingers and start to claw into your palms, pleasure spiking everywhere in her body, skin hot to the touch as the claps start to increase in tempo - the rate shifting to something more desperate, erratic.
“My fucking god, shit!” She wails, her hands shooting down to her ass, spreading herself wider while you lock your eyes at the sight of your cock buried into her cunt becomes a whole lot more clearer now, “Right there baby, holy fuck- this cock is just-” Haewon’s demeanor is diminishing by the second, words and sighs tumbling over in loops, but the pitch in her whines hit a familiar key or tone, gradually crescendoing when she gives up in squirming between your fingers.
“Pound my ass- yes, fuck- this dick is amazing.” Her head swivels up before ducking below into the open cavity of her chest and arms, sucking in her stomach with whatever strength she has left, “Give me more,” she’s panting, head spinning and spinning like a ceiling fan, “Give it to me. I need more-”
There’s not much left for you to take other than the stray tit that’s captured into your hand when you hunch yourself over her again, lift the upper half of her body upwards so that she’s in line with yours, entrapping that heat away from the cool air, trembling. Your mouth is back to her ear again, eyes half-lidded, fingers moving around your neck while the warmth of her cunt starts to burn across your length - the new lane created where your cock slides into her that creates this sequence of events of her convulsing, shuddering, pulling her hips back with a sole purpose to just ruin her. You’re hearing a slight wheeze out of her, maybe a sob too, the head of your cock’s hit a spot past her threshold where it literally makes her go stupid; mind and body into putty, exactly the way you like it.
Her fingers continue to hold tight, cunt clenching around your thick shaft when you’ve finally got her past that edge. There’s a bit of a moment of pause when you and her are stacked on top of each other, exhaustion finally breaking through, coaxing her second orgasm as you’re keeping your cock warm inside of her, feeling her hips spaz out of control while you endure in fucking her poor, spent, pretty pussy. Both heels of her feet bend towards the backside of your thighs, pressing her waist into the mattress, sliding yourself out the tightness before teasing her with the half of your shaft.
“There we go, Haewon. I’ve got you,” you’re telling her. The tone of your voice drowned out by the keening shattering through. “You’re perfect. Cum over this cock, baby. You deserved it.”
She keeps on sighing when she comes down from her second high, summoning this lazy grin while you’re peppering her face with kisses, an indication for a job well done. But she taps the top of your hand twice, resting at the crease of her hips - and the shimmy of her hips still embedded with your cock tells you only one thing:
“I wanna make you cum.”
The insanity this woman has. It does something to you.
So you waste no time at all. It’s enormously more than just a mess with how fucked up she is.
When you give her what she needs: flipping on her back was the way to go, yanking her hips back into yours until you see her eyes go wide at the sudden stroke before rolling up behind her head and past her eyelids - everything starts to fall into place with the way the back of her ankles hold your waist, which only leaves you with the sole choice of pounding her so fucking hard that you’d have to hook yourself into the arch of her back where she’ll have no where to go - it’s a position well practiced, your ol’ reliable: firing your cock on all cylinders at a pace so inhuman until she’s able to look you in the eyes and cast a spell for you to finish on her pretty face and leave her there with the damage when it’s all said and done - the assurance that you’ll give her what she wants and have you craving for more - kissing you shamelessly like she’ll be stoned to a rock come the next day, and when you’re feeling the pit of your stomach open more and more, the muscles in your hips and legs moving and tensing in the midst of this sex-filled frenzy, there was only one instinct in your mind where it didn’t take much to pump and dump your load inside her.
You can feel yourself getting close, head dizzying. “Haewon-”
“I know, handsome boy,” she praises, pulling you so that your forehead touches hers, “can feel you throbbing down there.”
She lets out this airy laugh when you wince a bit, hands reined at the small of her back and bringing her waist in, the impact of your cock rebounds her body once the pace starts to decrease.
“Fill me up, like you always do,” Haewon husks, voice barely a whisper in contrast to your hoarseness, “Put a baby in me.”
There’s this sort of tension in the air along with your body, driving your cock deep into her, burying your cum into the crevices of her pulsing hotness. Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, telling you to keep cumming inside of her, feeling every hot thread of your release coating her slopped walls.
You can feel yourself get light-headed - the warmth alone, not to mention how wet and tight her pussy is still, a place where everything feels right - but the lust filled in your head starts to fade, blackened vision returning to normal; and before you know it, you’re coming back to earth.
Neither of you move a muscle. Instead, you lay there for a bit, taking in the dwindling time of exploring each other’s bodies, holding yourselves together while your lips are conducting one final battle for that last dominance, the stench of sex and sweat still fresh and out to the open air.
Haewon manages to wrap both of her arms around your neck, kissing the slope of her neck and collarbone, scratching the back of your head, looking up to the ceiling with a lazy smile, one plastered with satisfaction. She taps your shoulder to grab your attention, but all you could come up with was a simple hum, which seemed to be enough for her.
“Go get me some lemons and water. I owe you a special something and a ride.”
–
Morning rolls around not long after, and assessing the lay of the land of your living space with one eye open. Everything seems to be in their place, tv remotes, work bag next to the neighboring desk, and the singular cup on the counter next to the fridge. Another thing to note, Haewon already got a jump start to the day.
You’re sliding across the floor with said singular cup being put into the kitchen sink, but with the other eye open now, you notice something at the corner of the kitchen island: a small box left open.
“I wonder what she has for me this time,” you say to yourself, examining the box which turned out to be a contraceptive tablet. A note also slips out with a card attached.
“Take today off. I’ll be coming over later. By the way, I hope you won’t get mad at me for snatching your little gift from Jiwoo. It was too cute for you to have sitting on your nightstand or coffee table, so I took it for myself.
p.s
Don’t worry about last night so much. I had everything thought out since our little ‘accident’ the first time. Can’t really say the same thing with what I said, but you can choose to ignore it…or not ;’)
- Haewon
xo <3”
The attached card flipped over showed the name of the gacha toy gifted to you. A justified reaction of sighing with rolled eyes and the shake of your head was pretty much the start of some days; but hey, at least the breaks are enjoyable.
“Sleight of hand my ass,” you mutter, thumbing the small slip of paper in your fingers, “she stole that from me.”
-
a/n: sending my special flowers to @majorblinks (i love you foreverrr <3), @passingnotions (for happily agreeing to poke around wherever in the draft), and @yieldtotemptation (to opening the floodgates with ur bae fic).
thank you for reading and wemo check. :3
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four-tune favours the bold (mv1)
pairing: max verstappen x alonso!reader [smau]
summary: having won his fourth world title, max finds no better time to tell your father that you're dating (and to maybe also get his blessing)
warnings: none (i think)
a/n: now that we finally have M4X (yipeeeeee), can we please get goatlonso back, preferably in the next few years (pls let the newey rocketship work)
[masterlist] [requests]
-> instagram
y/n_priv
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y/n_priv reactions after max told me he had told dad about us (he lied)
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blackdontcrack max stop sending your girlfriend into a heart attack, she's already getting one from your kids
fatherofthree she learnt that one from you and roscoe 💀 blackdontcrack HEY. my son is very well behaved
notnowinsnomore I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WONT JUST TELL HIM, IT'S NOT THAT HARD MAX
fatherofthree DO YOU WANT TO TELL HIM FOR ME 🤨🤨🤨 notnowinsnomore NO???? DO YOU THINK I WANT TO DIE??? notnowinsnomore IT'S ALSO YOUR RELATIONSHIP, NOT MINE
honeyhoney you've got to give him like 10 years to process that you're even in the same social sphere as his daughter...good luck man
fatherofthree thanks dan 😖 fatherofthree padel later? y/n_priv no? we have our date??? 😧😧😧 honeyhoney you beating up max now y/nnie? y/n_priv 😁👍
yourbff_priv babes ditch the men for me 😍
y/n_priv yes wifey 👩❤️💋👩 fatherofthree @/yourbff_priv stop stealing MY girlfriend yourbff_priv skill issue
fatherofthree
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fatherofthree stopped her from becoming blonde and still got kisses xoxo
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notnowinsnomore that second picture is exactly is what's gonna put you on top of fernando's kill list
fatherofthree no it wont notnowinsnomore yes it will inchident_no1 yes it will blackdontcrack yes it will honeyhoney yes it will ima5starmichelin yes it will buzzlightyear yes it will y/n_priv yes it will fatherofthree ok maybe it will. but fernando doesn't need to know
inchident_no1 your rendition of my heart goes on is truly...
y/n_priv truly what CHARLES? say it with your pussy fatherofthree YEAH WHAT SHE SAID inchident_no1 rubbish 🙄 y/n_priv BOOOOOOO YOU'RE RUBBISH
y/n_priv
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y/n_priv PUTTING IT ALL ON BLACK! VIVA LAS VEGAS BABY 🤩 YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US AT THE MGM UNTIL THURSDAY MORNING @/f1
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inchident_no1 should've bet on red 😉 wouldn't have lost you 100k
spicysugarbaby agreed 🤭 blackdontcrack well i SEVERELY disagree since we won 250k on the next spin on black so.... fatherofthree I LEAVE YOU ALONE WITH THEM FOR 10 MINUTES AND YOU'VE ALREADY BET 250K??? y/n_priv yeah but it's an investment babe 😘
antman can i join you guys? 🥺🥺🥺
y/n_priv not yet little kimi, in another three years (i think; i'll take you to the casino then myself ☺️) y/n_priv and yes you too @/we_are_barebears we_are_barebears YESSSSS 😌
f1 can i come over pls pls
y/n_priv of course admin ❤️ f1 yay 😁
-> messages
-> instagram
yourusername
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yourusername feeling right at home here, dressed and betting on red
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user1 HOLY LORD MOTHER IS FINALLY BACK TO SERVE CUNT IN THE PADDOCK 🥵🥵🥵
user2 the sexy spanish alonso genes are real with this one yourusername i would hope so! 🥱 user3 istg ive never seen a spanish person look bad in red
user4 GOD REALLY GIVES US Y/N AS AN APOLOGY CAUSE HOW DOES SHE EXIST????
user5 she's literally a goddess on earth user6 the face economy is unreal with her 😍 yourusername cant just be a nepo baby, gotta make papa proud 😘
user7 super hyped for vegas now that you're here with us y/n 🤩
user8 hopefully we see another alonso top 10 (i can copium for a top 6) user9 he will literally dnf everyone if it means y/n gets to see him podium or win again (2023 was literally iconic) yourusername papa will be ready to make stroll do crashgate 😉 (but i've asked him to refrain for this weekend) user10 ya'll y/n's cooking 😌😌😌
user11 ERM ANYONE GONNA BRING UP PIC 3 CAUSE....
user12 YA'LL GIRLIE I WAS GONNA SAY THE SAME THING user13 who's that @/yourusername 🤨 user14 who's that @/yourusername 🤨 yourusername no comment 🥺👉👈 user15 whoever that is do be looking fine affff user16 also probably fearing for his life, considering she's got like ten godfathers and then over twenty drivers ready to bash a man for her 💀💀💀
user17 THE FERRARI AURA IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE 😆
fernandoalo_oficial who's that princessa
yourusername i will tell you soon papa 😁
maxverstappen1
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 suited up and ready to take on vegas. 💪 bring on the race 🎰
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user18 STILL COOKING WITH A SLIGHTLY COOKED CAR, LETS GET TITLE NUMBER 4 💪💪💪
user19 literally salivating over pic one, cause he's so fine 🥵
user20 waiting for "2024 fia f1 world champion is max verstappen"
user21 SIMPLY LOVELY PUTTING YOURSELF INTO A STRONG POSITION
user22 getting the ladies i see in pic two 🤣
user23 he knows what he wants, and what he's going to get afterwards 😏
user24 VIVA LAS VEGASSSSSS, GETTING READY TO RUMBLE
-> twitter
-> irl
as max stepped out of the cockpit of his red bull - his gloved hands trembling slightly - he could feel the relief coursing through him, palpable even under the thick layers of his racing suit and balaclava. the cold autumn air nipped at his damp skin, but he barely noticed, lost in the overwhelming rush of emotions.
after a very, very long season, filled with challenges both in and out of the car, he had finally done it…he had won his fourth world championship.
as he stood there under the vegas lights, savoring this triumphant moment in front of the roaring crowd, his thoughts drifted to you.
throughout the year, your presence had always been a beacon amidst the chaos, a constant reminder of what truly mattered to him beyond the roar of engines and the glare of millions of fans. as he ran towards his team, his chest pounding and blood rushing in his ears, he thought of your earlier message, and his heart swelled with affection for you. he knew now was finally the perfect opportunity to share his love for you with the rest of the world.
as you watched max leap into the waiting arms of his jubilant crew, who slapped his back, clapping and cheering, chanting his name, you tried furiously to blink away the tears. your boyfriend had finally achieved his fourth world title, and he was making both of your wishes come true.
walking over to the other drivers, max felt the hand of another behind him. turning around, the butterflies in his stomach heaved once again, coming face to face with your father, fernando alonso. max's exuberant gaze locked onto the figure before him, and as their eyes met, max felt the familiar flutter of nervousness in his chest, a sensation he'd grown accustomed to whenever thinking of you and your father.
"max," fernando greeted him warmly, extending a strong hand. "congratulations. you've earned every bit of this championship." max clapped his hand firmly, trying to hide the slight tremble behind his grin. "thank you, fernando,”
max blushed for a second, as fernando leant up to pinch his cheeks, while also grinning widely at him. as fernando's gaze lingered on max, he thought for a second that he had found out about the two of you, and was instead ready to pull him by the cheek in for a very obvious threat and kick to the balls.
"i must say," fernando began, his tone sincere, "you've shown remarkable resilience this season. much like myself. i hope to see you continue working hard for many years," his words carried a hint of approval.
max swallowed hard, his mind racing, as he opened his mouth to speak.
“i-i’m dating your daughter,” max’s heart pounded in his chest, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. fernando’s expression remained jubilant, but there was a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes. the air between them seemed to crackle with tension.
“i…i didn’t know she was seeing someone,” fernando said slowly, his voice low and controlled, as he waved to the crowd, whilst pulling max towards the other drivers. there was no denying the facts now – fernando knew about their relationship. and while max couldn’t read the older man’s thoughts, he felt a surge of nervous energy course through him. would this revelation change things? between him and fernando?
as if sensing his turmoil, fernando turned back around abruptly, causing max to jump slightly.
fernando studied max intently, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "but i'm glad to hear that it's you max. my daughter deserves nothing less than the best."
with those words, fernando extended his hand once more, this time with a newfound warmth that spoke volumes. max grasped it firmly, sealing a silent pact between them. as they released their grip, fernando placed a hand on max's shoulder, pulling him in. "but listen closely mijo," he said, still grinning but his voice low and conspiratorial, "you mess with my daughter, and i will not hesitate to run you off the track or run you over. if you care for her, then show her that she's your number one priority, both on and off the track."
max felt a chill run down his spine at fernando's warning, but he also sensed a strange kind of respect behind it. this was a man who protected his family fiercely, and max wanted nothing more than to earn his place within that circle.
"yes, sir," he replied fervently, meeting fernando's intense stare head-on. "she is my priority, always. i promise you, i'll do whatever it takes to make her happy and keep her safe." fernando studied him for a long moment, searching for any sign of doubt. finally, he gave a curt nod, releasing max's shoulder.
"alright then," he said, "just remember what i told you. and welcome to the family, officially." as fernando walked away, max took a deep breath, his mind already racing. he glanced around at the celebrating crowd, their faces alight with joy and admiration, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.
but more than anything, max yearned to share this moment with you, to bask in the glow of his victory together and celebrate the love that had sustained him throughout the season. max scanned the bustling crowd, his eyes searching for a glimpse of your familiar features amidst the sea of faces. spotting you lingering nervously near the red bull personnel, he pushed through the throng of people, making a beeline directly for you. as he drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the look of pure adoration etched across his handsome features. his dark hair was damp with sweat, his broad shoulders still trembling slightly from the exertion of the race. but his eyes shone brightly with triumph and something far warmer - his love for you.
"y/n!" he called out, his voice ringing above the din of the party. pulling you through the celebrating crowd, he wrapped you up in a crushing embrace, lifting you off your feet. you melted into his embrace, pouring every ounce of your joy, pride, and adoration into it.
your laughter mingled with the roar of the crowd as max set you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your waist. he gazed into your eyes, his own shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. in that moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a bubble of pure bliss.
"y/n," max whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "i did it. we did it." he pressed his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth of your skin and the closeness that came with sharing such an intimate moment.
your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met in a searing kiss, pouring years of shared dreams and unspoken promises into that single, passionate gesture. the world around them melted away as max lost himself in the taste and feel of your lips, his body molding perfectly against yours. his hands roamed over your curves, tracing the contours he knew so well, as if mapping out the path to your heart.
when you finally broke apart, both panting for air, max rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shining with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "i want to spend the rest of my life making you feel this way," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "i want to wake up every morning with you by my side and fall asleep every night in your arms."
he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small velvet box that had been burning a hole there since the day he decided to propose. max dropped to one knee, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration. the crowd around them seemed to hold its collective breath, the anticipation palpable in the air.
with trembling hands, max opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled within. the stone glittered under the bright lights of the track, casting glittering cascades of light across your face.
"y/n," max began, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him, "from the moment we met, you've been the driving force behind everything i've achieved. your love, support, and unwavering belief in me have pushed me to become the best version of myself, both on and off the track."
he paused, swallowing hard as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.
"marry me," max breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "become my wife. let's race through life together because i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and no one else, i love you,"
with a shaky nod, you sank to your knees before him, cupping his face in your hands as you peppered his cheeks with tender kisses. "yes," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "a thousand times yes."
max slid the ring onto your finger, and pulling you up with him to your feet. spinning you around once more, your laughter ringing out like the sweetest melody. the crowd surged forward, enveloping you both in a sea of congratulations and well-wishes, their excitement nearly tangible in the air.
as the celebrations continued around them, max pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss that left no doubt about the depth of his love and commitment. in that moment, surrounded by the people who mattered most, max knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of victories, both on and off the track.
-> instagram
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others
yourusername I LOVE LAS VEGAS BABYYYYY 😘 but in all honesty, i'm so so so proud of you max (more than words or actions could ever express). seeing you grow throughout the past four years into the champion you are today, is more than any gift i could ever receive. there were far more battles and challenges from this season, but you rose above them every time. you are a champion, both on and off the racetrack and you will never be alone in this world, as long as i'm here. keep them coming baby. i love you, forever and always 🧡
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maxverstappen1 i love you very much schatje, thank you for always being there for me 😘
fernandoalo_oficial i am very happy for the both of you 😁👍
yourusername thank you papa ☺️ promise me you wont shunt into max next race? fernandoalo_oficial no promises sorry princessa 🤭
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, francolapinto, yourusername and others
maxverstappen1 four time world champion baby!!! a season full of challenges, but with the support, dedication and the effort of the team, this result would not have been possible 🙌 a huge thank you to all involved for this incredible achievement 👏
and i just want to say the biggest thank you to the love of my life, my girlfriend of four years, and now my fiancee, y/n alonso. i love you so much, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you (even if your dad wants to run me over now)
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yourusername i love you more than anything else in this world maxie 🧡
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@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy
@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon @chick-from-nz @nina-or-anna-or-nora
© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.
#⭑ : my work.ᐟ#the-flaneur#smau#x reader#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 smau#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x alonso!reader#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x daughter!reader
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All Roads Lead To Rome
pedro pascal x younger!reader
summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee
word count: 3,519 words
side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!
"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"
Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.
"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"
The young man chuckles.
"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"
He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.
"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"
"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"
"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".
"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"
He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.
"Too bad I don't need you to"
Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.
"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"
"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.
"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"
He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.
"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.
"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"
"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.
"Stop being misterious and just drop it"
"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"
When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.
During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.
Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.
You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.
It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.
To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.
You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.
Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.
And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.
"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".
"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".
"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.
So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"
"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.
"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"
"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"
"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.
"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".
You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.
"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"
He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.
"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"
"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"
"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.
"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"
Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.
"You must be punished for what you did today"
You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"
"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"
"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"
"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.
Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.
"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"
You swallow, "I am"
He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.
Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"
"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"
"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"
"I'm a naughty girl"
He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"
"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.
"You were a little brat, amor"
You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"
He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.
"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"
You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.
"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"
You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"
He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.
"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"
You whimpered "Badly, papi"
"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"
You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"
"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"
"No one!"
You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.
"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"
You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.
"That's your punishment"
"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"
“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"
You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.
He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:
"You have to take this off, what if we-"
"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"
"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.
As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.
"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"
You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.
Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.
"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"
You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.
"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.
You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.
You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.
"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"
He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.
"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"
When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.
"You gotta reward me" you cough out.
"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.
"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.
"Princess..." he warns.
"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.
"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"
"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.
"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.
"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.
"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.
A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.
His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.
Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.
"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.
You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace frenetic.
"I miss your tummy" you pout.
"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.
"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"
He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.
You're real, and his.
As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.
"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,
You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.
"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"
"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"
"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"
When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.
"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".
"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"
"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"
You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"
"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"
"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"
"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"
"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.
"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who she totally notices the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"
#dilfistwrites#gladiator II#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fluff#marcus acacius#joseph quinn#connie nielsen#may calamawy#paul mescal#i love him#so down bad for my latino man#pls excuse the filth<3
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Sunshine [11] - Blast
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.
Word Count: 4244
CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.
When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.
Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.
“We have found the one.”
You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.
“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.
“Not for us!”
“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”
“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”
You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”
“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Our group chat.”
Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”
“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”
Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”
Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.
“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”
“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.
“I googled it.”
“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.
“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”
You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.
“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”
“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.
Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.
“Your coworker?”
“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”
“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”
“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not over Logan yet.”
“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”
“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”
You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.
“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”
“Deal.”
*
One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.
Well.
Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.
But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.
You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…
You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.
“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”
You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.
Oh, he was already there.
If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.
However—
Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.
“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.
“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.
“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.
“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.
“I’m Hayes.”
You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”
Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.
“Uh, hi again.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”
“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”
“So have I.”
“Jamie showed it to you?”
“Technically no.”
You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”
“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”
You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”
“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”
“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”
You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.
“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”
“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.
“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”
“And walked in on her and my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Former best friend.”
“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”
“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”
Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”
“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”
“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”
“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.
“Hey, I talked about my ex.”
“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”
Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.
“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.
“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”
“I am,” he said. “And you?”
“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Do you like where you work?”
“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”
A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”
You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”
He sipped his wine.
“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”
“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”
That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”
“Oh he still keeps those?”
“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”
“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”
“Really?”
“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.
“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.
Logan.
A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.
“Hello?”
There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.
“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”
Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”
“There was a small accident—”
“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”
“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”
You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.
“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”
“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”
“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”
“Sorry, again.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”
“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.
*
If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.
Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.
He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.
“Hey—”
“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.
“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”
When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.
“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.
“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”
“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”
You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”
Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.
“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”
“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.
“Bean?”
The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.
“Bean, are you there?”
“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.
“You think you can open the door?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”
“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”
“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”
“People will be angry at me.”
“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”
“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”
Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.
“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”
“You hear that, bean?”
“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.
“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”
“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”
A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.
“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”
“…No.”
Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.
“Theo.”
“I found him here and we’re friends now.”
“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”
“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.
“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”
There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.
“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”
Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”
“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, him.”
Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.
“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”
*
Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.
There it was again.
Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.
The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.
You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.
“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”
You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”
“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.
“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”
He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.
“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”
You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.
“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”
You smelt like—
Oh. Hayes had hugged you.
“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.
“He’s fine, princess.”
You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.
“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”
“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
You took another sip of the whiskey.
“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”
You clicked your tongue.
“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.
“For now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”
“That’s not true.”
“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”
You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.
“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”
You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.
“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.
“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”
“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”
“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”
You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”
Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.
Oh.
This. You were familiar with this.
You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—
Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.
“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.
“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.
“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”
The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.
“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
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All of you are wrong, actually.
I think the absolute most wrong person is @juniaships, because of this line:
Enough of this history repeats type shit.
Generational spin off media is, almost certainly, going to deal with the repetition of historical themes. It's one of the most common patterns in media; largely because anyone who studies history will realise that it does, in fact, repeat!
Your argument here is somewhat anti-art!
The two examples given are Avatar and Star Wars, so let's address them.
Firstly, the central claim by OP, and by @rohirric-hunter is that the media featuring protagonists whose kids grew up with parental issues (note that this is not the same thing as being bad parents) must necessarily be written by people who just can't imagine good parenting for protagonists.
The issue with that is that we can actually see it's not the case!
AVATAR:
Tenzin is clearly a really good father! We see that he and his Pema are good parents!
Korra's parents are good parents by all appearances too!
STAR WARS:
Rey's parents, despite being stuck in a totally horrible situation, are exceptionally dedicated to their daughter! Dathan and Miramir literally died for their daughter!
So that pokes a bit of a hole in your theory.
Secondly, let's see how applicable the claims are of the previous generation's heroes being bad parents are.
STAR WARS:
The only person to claim that Han Solo was a bad father was Ben Solo, AKA Kylo Ren, AKA a man with absolutely terrible judgement who should not be considered an authority on the topic of who is or isn't a good parent.
PICTURED: the last person whose judgements should ever be uncritically accepted about anything, ever.
It's notable, however, that his dissatisfaction with Han Solo as a father doesn't appear to be based on anything Han Solo DID, but rather what Han Solo WAS. Note that he has no bad words for his mother, the princess and senator? Note that he reveres his Grandfather, the mighty Lord, almost to the point of worship?
He's obsessed by the idea of heritage and lineage, "You come from nothing, you're nothing", and Han Solo doesn't live up to that standard. Han Solo is a lowborn Corellian who grew up in a slum, and whose name was a fabrication. Oh, the name of Skywalker, the name of Organa, Kylo Ren has no shame for these, but he flinches every time Snoke refers to him as "Solo".
Nothing Han could have done would overcome that, until his son was willing to reconsider his outlook.
Han and Leia loved their son, and by all accounts did their best to raise him well. Yes, in their grief over his betrayal, they drifted apart, but that makes them human, not bad parents.
As for sending him to train with Luke, there's no evidence this was against his will, and if "having your kid with special talents go to a special boarding school that teaches him how to use those talents" makes you a bad parent, I guess Bill and Molly Weasly are bad parents, too?
PICTURED: Fred and George being very disappointed with you after what you implicitly said about their mum and dad.
As for Luke... yes, he absolutely would consider killing Kylo. He damn near took Vader's head off! He's always been one to leap before looking, and sometimes he ends up regretting that.
Also... Kylo Ren did, in fact, go on to commit massacres, become a dictator, murder Luke's best friend. Luke knew he would do these things. Woukd it be moral to kill him in advance? Arguably not. Is it something to dismiss out of hand? No, not unless you're an absolute pacifist, which Luke isn't.
AVATAR:
Something I think it's important to note about Aang and Katara is that neither of them (especially Aang) have a good model for what parenting looks like.
Aang was raised by a whole community, in a monastary, amongst other Airbenders. He has no experience of what it's like to be raised by someone with a skill that they can't pass on to you. He also had duties and obligations besides being a father. He did need to make sure that tgere was at least one Airbender in the world, to teach the NEXT avatar.
Also, let's consider Bumi's own inclinations and desires. He's a career military officer, something that presumably interested him from a young age. Is it any wonder that his father, the ardently pacifist monk, had teouble relating to him? Even with the best of intentions, they were two very different people, with two very different outlooks.
Katara, too, was separated from her parents quite young. She learned a great deal of self-reliance, arguably more than a person of her age should have. Do I think that she intentionally hurt her kids? No. Do I think it's believable that Bumi may have grown up without feeling very close to his parents. Yes.
Being a good person, even being a kind and empathetic person, doesn't preclude the possibility that we'll upset those close to us.
Finally, Toph.
Yes, Toph is a bad parent.
If you think she wouldn't be, you've been frankly blinded by favouritism. She's impatient, irritable, stubborn, and extremely opposed to authority figures, not least of those being her own parents!
The idea that she'd overcorrect to her parent's protectiveness by becoming too lenient? That feels very plausible and in-character.
Good people won't automatically become good parents. Parenting is a skill, and it's a hard one to master if you never had a good relationship with your own parents.
Generational spin-off media is like “okay, what would be the most in-character way for the previous show’s protagonist to comprehensively fail as a parent?”
#truth#principle#fiction#star wars#harry potter#avatar#gif cw#gif warning#flashing image cw#flashing image tw#tw: epilptic content#epilepsy cw
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I think Max will either retire or move to Ferrari in 2027
OUR LESBIAN FERRARI PROPHET SAYS SO? DROP THE TIMELINE
Okay okay anon walk with me.
So I think Lewis is Ready for Retirement. I think he would've retired at Mercedes, eighth championship be damned, if Mercedes had just given him an ambassador contract so he could've used his position and his brand for the causes he wants to dedicate the second half of his life to. As is, Mercedes refused to give him that contract (which, I could go on for AGES about how blindly ridiculous that is and is a clear marker of how far this sport still has to go re: racism)–but Ferrari did.
However, to be a Ferrari ambassador, a 2+1 year race contract accompanies it. Obviously this is a good move for Lewis anyway since it's looking like Ferrari will be one of the quickest teams moving into 2025 and Lewis must have some information on how they might nail the regulation change come 2026, but, and this may be controversial. Charles Leclerc is an established driver at Ferrari, the absolute darling of the tifosi (I mean, he's the second most important person in Italy after the literal pope), and most importantly he's a driver that has not yet hit his ceiling. Now, this is where I tread carefully, but I believe that Lewis, in comparison, is past his prime. Sure, he pulled off an incredible drive at Silverstone this year but he has not been able to match George–and George I believe is currently at a lower level than Charles. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charles is, well, going to walk all over Lewis next year. And if Lewis truly has only moved for the sake of the ambassador contract, he'll break the racing contract after 2 years.
Okay but Ollie is supposedly lined up for that Ferrari seat, and Ferrari NEED an order of succession, so who says that Max will take it?
Red Bull Racing is falling apart at the seams (sorry RB fans). Christian Horner is a power-hungry [REDACTED] who will bring the whole team down with him. The Thai side have never really cared about the Formula 1 team (and I know from Sources, backed Christian Horner in this whole fiasco which is why CH wasn't fired). Newey is gone, I'm sure other key figures will get pinched in the next couple of years, Max has kept everything together for pure skill this past year but the writing is on the wall. I'm going to hold everyone's hands when I say this, but I don't think Red Bull are winning either championships next year....
However, for as much as Max loves to talk about it, I don't think he's actually ready for retirement. I also don't think he'll be the type of guy to retire on a low. Max's contract is until 2028, but he can break it if he drops to P3 in the championship, which, I think there's a non-zero chance of happening in 2026 especially under new regulations/brand new engines.
So Ferrari are likely going to nail the new regs, Max doesn't want to retire on a low, and it looks like Ferrari shopping for a driver and Max wanting to leave Red Bull will line up within roughly the same window.
There's also a couple of sentimental reasons I want to point to. Max (as much as he tries to deny it) is a victim of the old Red Bull Golden Boy curse of being a Ferrari fan. I mean, he literally grew up in the Schumacher era, with his father being friends with Schumacher. He's stated multiple times how if he can't hear the Dutch anthem on the podium he'd like to hear the Italian one. I suspect deep down, he's much more of a tifoso than any of us realise.
There's also the Charles Leclerc of it all. Now really walk with me here because this is tenuous and yes is coming from a known Lestappie (tomato tomato) but isn't really a Lestappen argument.
Charles throughout his entire career has been obsessed with measuring himself up against those who are considered the "best of the best" and showing that he can beat them. He ate Seb alive, he'll likely do the same with Lewis. But both of these are drivers past their primes, at the very end of their lifespans. Charles has still yet to prove he can go toe to toe with a great at their prime and win.
Charles is, literally obsessed, with comparing himself to Max in interviews. Now (RIGHTLY SO) we Lestappies all point and laugh and call him a little obsessed but there's a very real publicity reason he wants to insist to everyone how him and Max were on each other's level in karting–people will subconsciously start to associate Charles as being on Max's level even if he hasn't proven it with championships. It's a very calculated move by Charles, and one I haven't seen many people discuss. Charles wants his name and Max's to be said in the same sentence because it validates Charles' own skill.
But Charles doesn't want to be known as Max's equal, not really, what he really wants is to be considered better than Max. And if he can't do that through number of championships, he can do it by putting the two of them in equal machinery. I think Charles will actually push Ferrari into trying to sign Max, because this is the way he can cement himself firmly as one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.
So I think a perfect storm of these combination of different factors will result in a Max to Ferrari move in 2027. Obviously all pure speculation, but drawing everything together, I'd give it maybe a 50% chance (providing Ferrari actually do come together which, Forza).
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Ice is woken up way too early by insistent knocking on the door of his room. Wondering what could possibly have caught on fire before 0800 in the morning, he opens the door trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and freezes when he's met by a very angry looking Nick Bradshaw.
"I really didn't think you'd stoop that low," Goose scoffs at him.
Ice glances down at himself. He's wearing dark boxers with no embarrassing pattern and the old USNA shirt he sleeps in is a little worn out, sure, but also clean. He knows his hair is a mess but c'mon, he just woke up, whose wouldn't be?
He concludes that he has no idea what Goose is talking about. "Uhm, what?"
"Don't play stupid, Kazansky. You know what you did."
Oh. This is about something in the past.
Ice still has no idea what though. "I... have not had a hangover in quite some time, so yes, I can say I remember just about everything I did lately-"
Goose interrupts him with a hissed, "That's really all you have to say to me?"
"-and I have no idea which of those things could have possibly pissed you off this much."
"Fuck you too, Tom." Oh no, not the first name. "What did Mav ever actually do to you?"
Ice is just more and more confused by the second. Is he still asleep? Is that why nothing's making sense? Mav did... quite a lot to him just a couple days ago, but Ice sincerely doubts Goose actually wants to hear about any of that.
"Uhm- not much lately?" he tries slowly. "Which I guess is actually impressive now that I think about it?"
"I'm not fucking around, Tom," Goose growls, leaning forward to get in his face. "Why did you punch him?"
"I... punched him?" Is this a joke? It's way too early for this.
"I fucking saw the bruise," Goose doesn't sound like he's joking. "Mav's refusing to tell me anything. What the fuck did you do to him?"
Ice tries to take a deep breath but no, he's not lacking oxygen, his lungs feel fine, his head doesn't hurt and this isn't making any sense. "You saw... the bruise?"
"Tom, I swear to God I'm gonna give you a bruise if you don't stop repeating what I'm saying and start answering!"
"Okay!" Ice exclaims, lifting his hands palms up because threats from Mother Goose should never be taken lightly, even by a very confused recipient. "Okay, uhm... what bruise did you see?"
"The one on his hip!" Goose shouts and Ice realizes too late that that was the wrong thing to say. "Is there more than one? What the fuck, man?"
"I- the bruise on Mav's hip-" Ice winces. He can't exactly say he didn't put it there, but he's not sure that admitting it's not really a bruise is such a good idea either.
And thankfully, before he's forced to find out, there's shouting from down the hallway. "Goose!" And that's Maverick running toward them. "Goose, stop! Ice didn't hurt me!"
Goose politely gets out of Ice's face and huffs. "How'd you know I was here?"
Mav is breathing hard, grabbing at his chest - did he run the whole way here? And he's still wearing his sleeping shirt too, with a stain on the collar, though he's taken the time to put on actual pants at least.
Gasping for air, he still does his best to answer. "Well I- I woke up and you weren't there and... You got so pissed last night, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But I swear, Goose-" he straightens up and raises his voice, "-Ice didn't punch me!"
"You don't have to defend him just because we used to be friends." Well, that emphasis hurts. But Ice is sure- he's hoping that they'll be fine once this gets cleared up.
"You can still be friends!" Mav throws his hands up in a frantic gesture. "He didn't do anything to me I didn't want!"
Goose freezes on the spot, anger melting into confusion at record speed. "What?"
And because apparently, Ice before 0800 is in the business of digging graves, he clears his throat. "Yeah, I... didn't exactly make that bruise with my hands."
And because apparently, Mav is a little shit in any and every situation, he meets Goose's wide eyes with a grin. "The one on my thigh, though-"
"Nope!" Goose raises his hands. "No, shut up, I don't need to hear more! I..." he hesitates, looking back at Ice. "I am very sorry for waking you up, Ice. And for yelling at you... And I'm gonna give two some space now! Happy for you both!"
He backs away slowly, giving them two thumbs up until he turns around and sets out at a fast pace.
Ice looks down at Mav and sighs, "That went well. You couldn't have just told him?"
Mav's smile dims. "I didn't think he'd react that badly," he mumbles. "Just wanted to keep you to myself for a while."
That's so damn sweet.
And, well. Mav is here, looking all ruffled and soft from sleep, and there's no one else around.
Ice puts a hand on his shoulder. "You do have me for yourself, Mav." And then he leans down to kiss his boyfriend.
#this is silly#silly plot bunny wouldn't stop following me around#it just wanted to play don't think about it too hard#icemav#tom iceman kazansky#pete maverick mitchell#nick goose bradshaw#top gun#top gun 1986#top gun fanfiction
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 3
pairings: Childe, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship (married/engaged/mated), secret relationship, immortal reader in Neuvi's part
word count: 6.1k+ words
a/n: part 1 and part 2 can be read here!
Childe
Spurred by the whistles and a whip of a coachman three fine white horses are trotting along the snow-covered road, dragging a big sleigh. Made of the sturdiest wood and painted in red and gold, the construction is effortlessly sliding on ice crust, almost lulling you under all those warm blankets and furs Ajax has thrown over your half-sitting half-lying bodies. You are glad to have this instead of jolting in a carriage (not like it’ll even be able to ride through all this snow), sure to have an aching arse even under the thick sheepskin coat, and instead of whatever machinery your lover could’ve gotten his hands onto due to his position - otherwise it wouldn’t have been so romantic.
Resting your head onto his shoulder you sigh blissfully, puffing out a small cloud of warm air. The fluffy-looking firs, tall pines and naked larches are flashing past in a magical gleam of snow-covered branches; you think you see two grayish squirrels chasing one another on a tree on your left.
“Oh, little minxes. A couple of seconds later and that snow could’ve ended up on our heads.”
You giggle at the young man’s comment, taking your gloved hand out of the sable muff and reaching to adjust the hat with earflaps (which he once again refused to tie under his chin) on his head. Before you can retrieve, a bigger hand clad in mitten wraps around yours and brings it to the chapped pale lips. As if spellbound you watch him press a tender kiss just where your ring finger joins the palm - right where the engagement ring is hidden under the thick material.
Now it’s hard to tell if your cheeks are rosy from cold or the swirling emotions.
“A little bit more and we will be in Morepesok,” he says softly, deep pools of his blue eyes staring back at you adoringly. “I can’t wait to share the news with ma, pa, sisters and brothers…”
You know he’s written them a letter right after you said ‘yes” to him, too excited to wait. So excited in fact, that he couldn’t sit still in expectation for the response, so he solicited an impromptu week-long vacation with the help of Pulcinella, and here you are, on your merry way to his home village.
“I can’t wait for that too,” you smile, leaning up to peck his nose, eliciting the same smile from him. “But I worry a little - will they be happy for us? I mean, that it’s me who you are going to marry?”
“Absolutely!” He nods enthusiastically and you have to readjust his hat again. “They all love you very much, I promise you. And if I am being completely honest, mom and Tonia did keep asking me when I intended to make you my wife during the last couple of times we visited.”
“Wait, really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was already planning a proposal at the time - didn’t want to spoil it by accidentally letting my tongue loose.”
It’s hard to believe that this man is one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers. Childe is surprisingly good at separating his work and off work behavior, turning into a completely normal, maybe just a tiny bit unhinged, young man as soon as his family is involved. You know he’s built this facade to keep them and you away from harm, but you also know it comes from the heart as well.
“Then I can only hope we can bring the female members of your family to the capital soon - I want them to participate in the wedding dress shopping.”
You are immediately gathered into a tight embrace and your laughter is smothered by the fur on his collar. Yes, he is the Eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia, Tsaritas’s soldier, Childe… But in moments like this he is just Ajax. Your Ajax.
His parents’ house meets you both with the quiet creak of the gates, the barking of two big fluffy malamutes outside, the clink of the horseshoe against the wood on top of the front door, the warmth of a well-heated inside and a bit taller than the last time you saw him Teucer, who runs full speed at his big brother, practically tackling him.
“Big brother is home, big brother is home!”
Ajax joyously laughs, somehow managing to take off his coat and dropping it to the colorful carpet at the front door before hoisting the exclaiming boy into his arms. Kicking off your felt boots to step from the anteroom, you watch with a smile as he squeals when your lover presses his cold cheek to the warm smaller one, squirming in the strong arms.
Not a minute later more of his siblings appear, closely followed by their mom - freckled, with her ginger with gray hair tied in a thick braid and an apron thrown over her green dress, the woman smiles brightly and, letting her children surround their brother, walks to you with arms spread, ready to embrace you.
“Mother, my clothes might be cold,” you try to warn her, but she doesn’t listen, hugging you anyway.
“As if it can affect me! Oh, I’m so happy to see you, my dear. How was your trip? Are you tired, hungry? I’m almost done with lunch, and in the meantime I can ask my husband to throw in the firewood and heat the bathhouse for you two.
“It’s very kind of you,” you smile, wrapping your arms to give her a hug in return. “But I think we’ll wash up in the evening - I really doubt Ajax’s sibling will let him go in the following couple of hours.”
Before she can say anything, a tall, wide man appears from the other room. His beard and hair are gingerly brown with gray too, thick brows naturally furrowed. By the rosy cheeks, the remnants of snowflakes melting on his hair and the choice of clothing you guess he’s just returned to the house through the back door - probably after chopping wood.
Upon lowering his gaze to you, his facial features smooth out.
“If it isn’t my son and a dear soon-to-be daughter-in-law!” His gruff voice booms across the house, immediately redirecting everyone’s attention to you and making you blush. “I knew Ajax was too impatient and would rather come to visit and bring his fiance along than wait for a response letter.”
As he moves to greet you properly and help with discarding the outer clothes, you notice your gingerhead whispering something to his siblings, to which they giggle and throw glances at you. Catching the gaze of your lover, you lift an eyebrow, as if asking ‘should I be concerned?”. But he only shakes his head with a smile and ushers everyone to the dining room.
However, the curiosity is getting better of you, as throughout the evening you keep catching the glances, watch Tonia whispering something to her mom, and the woman giving Ajax a ‘really?’ kind of look, but with a fond smile, and then his dad slapping his back with a boisterous laugh, saying something along the lines ‘I was the same way with your mom too’.
So you confront him once you are left alone in the room.
“Hey, foxy, what’s going on?”
“Hm?” He lowers the blanket that he’s just tucked inside the duvet cover and reaches for the sheets. “What do you mean, bunny?”
“Whatever you’ve been doing,” you put one of the pillows down and reach out for the other as well as the pillowcase.
“And what’s that ‘whatever’ I’ve been doing?” You don’t miss the sly smile finding its way onto his face. You huff.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
The man hums, tucking the edges of the sheet between the mattress and the bed.
“Nothing you should worry about. I just asked them all to practice a little.”
“Practice?’ Cocking your head, you throw both pillows onto the bed. “Wait, did you start planning something for the wedding?”
“Not quite. Rather for after it.”
Confused, but intrigued, you step closer when your lover sits down and beckons you, being dragged into his lap a second later. Blue eyes look at you in an unspoken fascination, as he leans forward to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth, prompting you to loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Since we are getting married, I deduced that it would be only right for my family to call you my wife. Thus I asked them to get acquaintanced with the term, so they could start doing it as soon as we are pronounced husband and wife.”
You blink at him once, twice. After the third time you exhale, shaking your head, but the lift of your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by your fiance.
“I should’ve known you’d pull something like this, I am not even surprised, let alone mad. But they could just keep addressing me by my name. Plus your siblings already call me ‘big sister’ and your parents made me an honor of acknowledging me as the ‘daughter’. It won’t change much.”
“But it will!” He pouts and you can’t resist the urge to pinch his cheek. “You will be my wife and I want everyone to help me show it! Does it bother you though?”
Looking into those uncharacteristically begging eyes, you really can’t deny him his little antics. Not like you were going to in the first place.
“No, no, I don’t mind, love. Honestly, it's very sweet how excited you are. Makes me look forward to it.”
“Yeah?” Look at him, smiling like a satisfied cat, who's had too much sour cream for its own good. His embrace tightens on you a little.
“Yeah.”
A beat of silence passes as Ajax enjoys the many kisses you pepper to his face, squeezing his eyes shut, grinning, boyishly eager for more.
“Do you think I should ask the whole village to do the same?”
“Ajax, no.”
Nuevillette
“Mother, do you mind helping me a little? I can’t reach over there…
“I’d be delighted, my dear.”
Neuvillette watches with a fond look as you put the tea cup down and stand up to walk closer to Verenata and assist her with whatever the potion maker needs. Your figure is ethereal, clad in the finest fabrics, flowing with every step and gently dropping as you crouch gracefully to hoist the melusine in your arms. From above the rim of his silver goblet the Hydro Dragon can't tear his eyes from the way one of your many “daughters” wraps an arm around your neck and reaches up, while the corner of your lips, which he can see from his position at the table, is turned upwards.
“Mother is so kind and patient,” Laume says just a step away from Neuvillette’s chair. When the man turns his head to look at her, there is Flo standing too.
“Yes, and she is so beautiful,” the other melusine sighs, clasping her hands together. “And she always brings us such nice and comfortable clothes…”
“Monsieur Neuvillette married a wonderful woman,” a couple more melusines nearby agree and there is a warm and fuzzy feeling takes place in the Judex’s chest.
Marriage… Such a beautiful concept humans came up with to validate the union of two. It begins with the wedding - a day full of happy tears and blissful smiles, shared vows to be together in sickness and in health, sweet claims of love and promises of joyful life ahead. Then this very life begins and for beings like you and your husband it’s a long, but welcome trip.
You’ve been claimed by each other for quite some time before the more ‘mortal appropriate’ ritual, and the melusines - the wonderful creatures Neuvillette once took under his wing - were aware and happy for your relationship. And it was actually their idea to hold a wedding too, once Sigewinne naturally asked how the two of you planned to introduce your bond in civil words to humans.
And it was their initiative to start calling you “mother”. With your actions you quickly became one for them anyway, and the girls actively sought your company when it was possible. Thus, such tea parties at the Merusea Village as today are a common occurrence (besides, you always welcome them because it's a great opportunity to dig your husband out of the pile of responsibilities he tends to bury himself under).
However, lately Neuvillette started noticing that when he heard the word leave the girls’ mouths, a strange feeling began rising in his chest. Even though not quite familiar with the concept of jealousy, the Judex was sure it was not the case - he loved when the melusines called you that. So, he could not really put his finger on why the action caused such an indescribable reaction.
He decided to observe. On his walks throughout the city, the man seeked the sights of parents with children to attentively listen and watch while leisurely passing by or stopping at the shopping booths to linger on the scene. He was quick to note that the interactions were hardly different from the ones between you and the girls - kids would call for their mothers in all the same tones: when happy, when asking for help, when seeking comfort and many other typical occurrences he’d seen a handful of times before.
What really caught Neuvillette’s eye was the way the parents behaved. And soon his focus shifted to the married couples instead. As reserved as the nobles seemed to appear, the ones in love still managed to slip a murmured ‘my dear’, or ‘beloved’ or ‘my sweet [Name]’ in their speech. All the things the Hydro Dragon was all too used to call you too, relishing in the image of your loving smile and joyfully crinkling eyes as you responded in kind.
But it is like a waterfall pours on him when a week later, after that tea party where he once again sunk deep in thought, a keen pointy ear makes out a simple word in the crowd.
"Wife"
Male’s heart flutters. The understanding quickly dawns on him, even more so when his eyes find the couple on the other side of the road, - it was no simple term to introduce the partner to the third party. No, the tenderly spoken word was used by that man to address his lover, to softly draw her attention to him, to remind her he is happy she is holding such a position in his life…
At least that’s what kind of puzzle pieces together in Neuvillette’s head. The couple is long gone, yet he is still standing there, hand resting on the handle of his cane and eyes staring into space.
He starts to remember all the sweet names he called you, each and every one stored in his memory with the heart-warming images of your reactions. There are all kinds of those: my love, my pearl, lizzy (affectionate from ‘lizard’; you used to tell him that dragons are just big lizards and it kinda stuck), kisses-stealer, fairy-tail nymph… The man is surprisingly creative with his words when it comes to you.
Sure, he calls you his mate, quite often too, but to his chagrin it has never occurred to him that he could call you ‘his wife’ too! It’s so simple, so absurdly logical, yet it took him weeks to figure out.
Humans are truly fascinating.
When Neuvillette returns to his office in the Palais Mermonia you are already there, lazing on a sofa with a bunch of papers, in which your husband guesses the script of probably another upcoming play of Furina. And judging by the more than a half pages turned you’ve been waiting for him for a while.
When the door closes and the cane disappears in the myriad of sparkling bubbles, you lift your gaze, and a smile immediately lights up your lovely features.
”Neuvi,” You speak softly, getting on your feet and leaving the script behind, “I hoped we’d depart on the afternoon stroll together. So imagine my disappointment when Sedene told me you had left just ten minutes ago! Oh, I knew I’d be late if Lady Furina had kept me for another minute, yet I still hoped I’d be on time…”
As you are approaching him, the Judex remembers the melusine’s words upon arrival: “Mother waits inside”. This makes all his previous thoughts resurface, and when he meets you half-way and reaches for both your hands to place a kiss to the back of each, Neuvillette has half a mind to try out his new discovery.
“Our Archon enjoys your company a lot, and, knowing you, you are not really mad,” you roll your eyes playfully, tiptoeing to peck the tip of his nose, murmuring a quiet ‘hush, let me be a tiny bit indignant’. “And I’d be honored to keep you company for the evening stroll,” and then, after a little pause of hesitation, he adds, “wife.”
He watches as the previously present smile on your face grows even bigger, but after a couple of seconds starts to fade slowly, eyes squinting a little bit to stare at him in hardly-concealed curiosity.
“What was that?”
“What was what, dear wife?”
“This!” As if to emphasize your words you point your finger to his mouth, and it’s Neuvillette’s lips’ turn to curl in a small smile.
“It’s something I hoped to discuss with you,” his gloved fingertips soothingly brush over your knuckles and soon your hand is clasped into his, as the man leads you both back to the sofa. “You see,” he starts when you sit down, “I am fascinated with the notion hidden behind the word ‘mother’ the melusines like to call you. That’s who you are for them both in reality and in terms. I’ve made some observations, and figured that sometimes humans in marriage also use the…familial terms to address one another. It seemed lovely to me and I wanted to try it out with you. What do you think?”
You hum in thought, replaying in your head the way Neuvillette spoke to you twice. It is hard to explain, but you somehow immediately see the appeal and understand why your lover got hooked on it. Seems lovely indeed. You wonder, what if you…
“Will you tell me more about those observations on our evening stroll, husband? Ooh, it does sound wonderful!”
Mark him stunned, but for a moment Judex grows speechless. The violet depths of his eyes swirl with adoration as you clap your hands gleefully, and he knows, that from now on your everyday routine will never be the same
“With pleasure, wife.”
Pantalone
Dancing snowflakes are slowly descending in their tender waltz and are gleaming like the tiniest of gems in the streetlights’, enveloping the already magical winter capital of the Cryo region in a solemn atmosphere. The white cover of the ground is crunching with every step of a passerby and every wheel rotation of the fancy-looking carriages, while the street is a jumble of fur coats and heavy military overcoats, finally breathing life into the afternoon-quiet city.
It’s a wonderful evening, too marvelous to spend it at home, too enchanting to miss the new ballet at the Bolshoy Theater, the true accumulation of the Tsaritsa’ nation’s nobility and intelligentsia. The wonder of Snezhnayan architecture is both the place to rest and enjoy the purest form of art and home to many gossip circulating in society. Some fresh and just hours old, some ancient and undying, like the topic of the Ninth Harbinger’s lovers.
Lord Pantalone is well-known and often-praised for his contribution to the Snezhnaya’s economy, along with extending the Fatui influence all across the Teyvat. But also he is quite famous for the women he appears in public with. It’s always someone new, it’s never the same one as before. Different shapes, different hair, different style - it is impossible to guess the raven-haired man’s tastes. However everybody knew - the Harbinger never entertained the company of the ladies who made attempts to catch his attention. Those ladies themselves say as much.
The Regrator’s companions never open their mouths, never utter a word - at least not when there are people around. There has never been a single name, never a remembered face - all women wear the mask covering the upper half of it, concealing the identity of yet another lucky choice of the rich man.
Never the same woman - always the same mask.
This evening does not disappoint the gathered crowd - lifting their gazes, directing attention to the Harbinger’s personal box, they once again see the notorious mask. The long fringe of wine-red hair is coquettishly framing the ever-lasting piece of leather, similarly flaming lips are tugged in a haughty smile - as if the young lady doesn’t realize that once the night is over, she’s going to be discarded like many others before her. The dress according to the latest fashion trends and the beautiful garnet necklace do not surprise the audience anymore - even known for his love for replacements, Lord Pantalone dresses his partners royally.
The man himself has chosen yet another black costume, with a dark burgundy shirt hidden underneath and bird-shaped garnet brooch on the left side of his chest. Multiple beautiful rings catch the light when he lifts his gloved hand to adjust diamond-shaped glasses, before turning his head and addressing something to his tonight’s escort. She boisterously laughs, saying something in response, but even if attendants tried to strain their ears, they wouldn’t hear anything so far away. Even harder it gets when the third ring of the bell echoes across the theater chamber and both the Harbinger and the woman are forgotten, until the performance is over.
So no one sees when the ring-decorated hand reaches for a smaller female one, fingers sliding under the chintz-covered palm, thumb immediately reaching to tug on the hem of the glove, so the thin cool lips could press against the small patch of bared skin. A glimpse of a smile is what Pantalone gets when you glance at him with amusement playing on your lips.
Always the same mask, never the same woman, huh?
Pride has long slithered into your heart, yet it still lifts its snake-like head every time your act of decisiveness succeeds, happily hissing. Every time it’s a test of your skills, a gamble with the eyes of ones around you, and every time you hit the jackpot, leaving the people guessing, staying the only one in possession of the banker despite the speculations.
As long as Her Majesty Tsaritsa is aware of your existence and the place you occupy next to Pantalone, you are free to do anything you want with his reputation relationship-wise. And he allows it, because should you desire the whole world - he’ll throw it to your feet like the cheapest trinket. One would say it’s because he is prideful too - he knows it’s because he loves his wife.
Loves to the point of entertaining the masquerades she stages whenever the two of you need to appear in public. It plays wonderfully into his possessive nature and desire to keep his precious beautiful wife to himself and helps with the enemies - “changing the ladies” minimizes the chances of putting at risk his one and only. Not like many know of you in the first place.
It’s a win-win arrangement for you as well - there is still an opportunity to cling to his arm, to use his expensive cologne, to play with the rings on his fingers and sneakily make out in a dark corner where no one can see. To be tugged into his lap in the carriage on the way back to his mansion, to have his long fingers undo the strings of the mask, and once the piece of leather falls onto the floor, have the palms slide down the sides of your neck, swiftly fiddling with the heavy necklace, only to let it be, the caress the shoulders, pushing the sleeves down…
…to leave them at the elbows and grab your arms to push your back into his chest as the warm lips press to the juncture between the neck and the shoulder.
And what if you’ve lost your name in the process of this disguising? Having been an actress a long time ago made you used to it. But isn’t it fun to come up with the new ideas for your next performance? Your husband gifts you way too many dresses and jewelry sets - you must find use to all of them! He now has to simply spend a bit more on the wigs and makeup to fit each combination of fabric and gems.
“Did my wife have a pleasant evening?” The velvet voice of the man behind you caresses the ear and you meet his gaze in the full-size mirror in front of you. Amethyst eyes sparkle in the bedroom light and you smile coquettishly, red lips stretching seductively.
“Did she? How could I know?” You tease, reaching to your back to undo the corset, just to be stopped by his hands, fingers digging into the dozens of strings. “And don’t you know, Mr Harbinger, that it’s very offending for the woman, when the man speaks about another lady in her presence?”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware,” he muses, tugging a bit harsher on the ties and making you gasp, “that my dear wife can be jealous of herself.”
“When you know her poorly. Tsk-tsk, what a bad husband you are.”
Pantalone laughs behind you, shaking his head at your untrue words, and you reach to your head to remove the fiery wig. By the time Pantalone is done with your corset, you are done letting your naturally beautiful locks down, sighing in relief from both the released ribcage and hair roots.
The dress, having lost its vital support on your body, falls to the ground next to the wig and quickly becomes forgotten as you two step away from the mirror.
Your husband is still mostly clothed, having only eased out of his coat and unbuttoned the jacket, so you busy your hands with tugging the black article off and then reaching for the gleaming tiny buttons on the shirt. Your figures bask in the warm light of the room as you continue undressing the man - your eyes concentrated on the expensive fabrics, his - on the lovely expression of your face.
“But if you must know,” Pantalone raises his brow, when you look up at him, a much sincere and tender smile lighting up your visage, “your wife loved the evening very much.”
And that’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear. Fingers tangle in your hair, you harshly inhale, and his lips are on yours. Lipstick is smudging, your fingers accidentally catch the silver chain, and his glasses get slightly askew, but it doesn’t matter. His wife loved another thing he’s done for her. The banker’s day has ended in a great profit.
Wriothesley
Fortress of Meropide is a huge metal labyrinth of floors and corridors, where noise is never-ending even in the late hours of the night. The metal box which is the Duke’s office however, is constructed to mute the annoying sounds or else the one inside would have a very hard time concentrating.
Usually, even the ruckus happening outside and the clanking of the heavy machines underneath can’t sway Wriothesley’s attention if he has his mind set on doing the paperwork, even something as boring as bills. Today, however, the man has caught himself multiple times glancing at the clock he’s hung up a couple of years ago - there is no way to tell the time all the way down underwater, true, but it serves him a greater purpose. It helps him count hours and minutes before you arrive.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days when you take a half of the day off to come down to the Fortress to meet up with your husband. You both quickly realized that traveling back and forth together in either of the directions (fortress or home in the city) would be way too inconvenient. So, you improvise by visiting him throughout the week a couple of times and then he comes home to properly spend the weekend, having learnt to delegate his responsibilities to the most trustworthy guards. So far you’ve been extremely pleased with the arrangement, and the Fortress’s crew have learnt your face by heart to not cause you any obstacles in reaching your beloved’s office.
Today, nevertheless, something must’ve gone wrong. Pale blue eyes are practically drilling the minute hand of the previously mentioned clock, watching it moving further and further from the tiny 10-minute bar, which should’ve marked your appearance at the top of his stairs. And he gets it, everything could’ve happened, something as trivial as the queue at the pastry shop that might’ve gotten longer today, but when the delay surpasses the half-hour mark, the warden puts his fountain pen down and follows it by the creak of the chair legs on the metal floor.
As he descends down the stairs - each clunking under the heavy soles of his boots - a fleeting thought of you stopping by at the medical bay first is immediately brushed aside - his office is right on the path of entering the Fortress’s main body, and you love your husband too much to let him sulk in his longing.
When he pushes the colossal doors open, eyes instantly start searching the area ahead of him. However, nothing unusual is spotted - two guards are standing at the front of his abode, not even flinching at the unpleasant scraping noise the metal makes; a couple of inmates are walking past them, bowing their heads right as they see the appearing the figure of their warden - Wriothesley simply nods and sends them off with a flicker of his hand; then there is Monglane’s desk with its irreplaceable owner. And no trace of his beloved wife.
Closing the doors behind him, Wriothesley comes up to the guards, inquiring if they’ve happened to see you. Getting a negative response, he hums and starts walking forward, to the corridor leading to the elevator, not bothering with asking the very same questions to Monglane.
With every passing minute, especially while waiting for the elevator, the man starts realizing how impatient he is growing, if the tapping of his foot and crossed arms are not an indicator enough. Even with just one day apart, he’s missed you so awfully much, your adoring smile, your soft voice and cute little giggles, that he feels rightfully robbed since you are not yet in his embrace, showering his face with kisses and then whining pretentiously because he’s forgotten to shave once again. Sometimes you swear he is not a big bad wolf, but a mean huge hedgehog.
He almost stomps inside the cabin the second its doors slide open and pushes the button to the reddening of his fingertip. It is a long trip up to the next level, and he admits he’s tugged on his leather straps wrapped around his arms a couple of times, but Archons, how little it all matters, when, exiting the elevator, he finally hears such a familiar voice. Your voice.
Your husband’s legs carry him like they obtained a mind of their own, following the full of amusement lilt he knows can belong only to you, just to come to a halt next to the wooden boxes piled up on the side of the path.
He can see you, quite clearly, adorned in a cute pair of pants and a shirt, shoulders covered in a crocheted shawl - always ready for the cool air of the Fortress, yet looking so comfy, that Wriothesley can't help but desire to tackle you to the sofa in his office and cuddle this instant. And he would've done just that, if the conversation you've been having didn't catch his attention.
“No, it's wrong again. It's not Britney, it's Brytnneigh.
“But you are saying the same thing!"
"No, it is not B-r-i-t-n-e-y. It's B-r-y-t-n-n-e-i-g-h."
"Slower, please."
In the second voice the warden easily guesses a new guard that has just been employed a couple of days ago. He remembers signing the papers his weekend substitute brought him on Monday. Wriothesley also remembers how the man swore that he’d passed on to the newbie all the information and training he needed to know. But, it appears, he forgot to mention the most important thing…
“Did you make sure to write my name with two N’s?” Your voice is laced with hardly concealed mirth, and, though he can’t see the face of the guard talking to you, your husband is sure the poor young man looks quite miserable.
“Yes, mademoiselle, I did.”
“Wonderful, but it’s ‘madame’, I am a married woman after all. But no worries, I am flattered you think I look so young,” Wriothesley shakes his head with a silent chuckle. He adores you so much, but maybe it really is time to stop your little play of a new inmate, or else he’ll surely have to call for Sigewinne to check on the poor guard.
“And your last name, madame?”
“I am Brytnneigh Deirdrophnea de Troistêtesloup. Do you want me to spell it for you, dear?”
Yes, he really should stop you.
Before you can open your mouth again, you see in your peripheral vision a figure moving. Upon turning your head slightly, you are graced with the sight of your beloved husband, walking towards you with a quirked thick brow, and crossed arms. All you can do is sheepishly smile, waving at him.
“O-oh! Duke Wriothesley, Sir!” The guard behind the registration desk immediately jumps to his feet, squaring his shoulders and saluting at the arrival of his superior.
“At ease, young man,” Wriothesley nods, stepping even closer, practically invading your personal space, icy blue eyes looking at you unblinkingly. “What is going on here?”
“Nothing much, Mr Warden,” your eyes crinkle in the corners, a sight so infectious, that the man’s lips turn into a small smile. “Just a cute old me, ending up in the Fortress for Archon knows what time.”
“M-madame!” The guard exclaims rather loudly, that even your husband turns to look at him. “Even if it's not your first stay here, you shouldn’t be taking liberties with the Duke!”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Wriothesley raises his hand. “She is no longer your headache-”
“Hey!” You elbow his side to the bewilderment of the guard. In his shock he doesn’t even reach for his weapon.
“-I will personally escort this troublemaker inside. And cross out that abominable name out, would you? It’s not her name.”
“It’s not..?” Now Wriothesley really sympathizes with the guy, he looks utterly lost.
“It’s not. But,” a big scarred hand gently cups you under the chin and turns your head more properly towards the guard, “be sure to remember this adorable face very well for the next time. You’ll need that to let her in and out.”
“...out?”
“Yes, indeed. This woman is my wife.”
As the elevator doors slide close and the cabin starts moving down, you turn to Wriothesley and throw your arms around his wide frame, face burying into his chest.
“Are you proud of me for coming up with such a long and difficult name in a single thought?”
“Oh, for sure,” strong arms circle your waist and chapped lips press to the top of your head, “I bet you would be hard-to-catch if you were a criminal. But why did you decide to play such a prank on a poor man?”
“Well… I just wanted to see his face when he found out that I am the wife of the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide himself. Another reason is that there was no guard who knew my face and I doubt he would’ve believed my word. I just got creative with the way of making him summon someone else. You simply got here before anything could happen. Plus, it’s good to keep them on their toes with a job like that. Besides, I did apologize and praise him for his patience.”
At that Wriothesley just sighs and then chuckles, raising one of his hands and threading his fingers through your hair, pressing your head even closer to his chest. He is not even feeling iffy about the lost half an hour of your time together anymore. Because you gave him an opportunity to introduce you as his wife once again.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#childe x reader#childe x fem!reader#tartaglia x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x fem!reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x fem!reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x fem!reader#childe#tartaglia#neuvillette#pantalone#wriothesley#genshin impact fluff
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I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--
You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.
They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.
SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.
So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.
He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )
Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.
SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.
He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!
His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.
"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-
"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.
"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"
SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.
Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.
"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "
"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.
"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."
SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.
..
Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.
I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.
MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?
While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!
SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.
They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end
Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--
#mobei jun#shang qinghua#svsss#svsss mobei jun#svsss shang qinghua#svsss luo binghe#mxtx svsss#shen yuan#svsss shen qingqiu#svsss shen yuan#bingqiu#moshang#missing qinghua au#king writes#cumplane friendship
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Please do a jayvik x reader where reader is their assistant and constantly glances at the both or them while they're working and either Viktor or jayce catches her in the act
YES OF COURSE! I think this idea is so good!
A/N: This is a little bit suggestive but very minor. Mostly just jayvik teasing reader.
---
You've been assisting Jayce and Viktor for many months now. You've learnt many things about them, like how jayce enjoys a cup of milk late at night and when viktor is tired he'll hum to himself. You've brought them Drinks and food and helped them out with their blueprints and stacks of paper. You were their doting and loyal assistant always happy to lend a hand.
But you thought you were subtle in your actions, how you always snuck glances at jayce when he was flexing his tanned muscles while hammering something, or how you always gazed perhaps too long on viktor's nimble fingers working on small cogs.
Late one night in the lab as you sorted through a stack of diagrams as per viktor's request, You snuck a small glance at the two males at the desk working and conversing. Jayce's arms sat flexed and heavy against the table, his white button-up shirt rolled up his arms. Beside him, viktor was giving much darker vibes, his lips are close together in a line and he's got a slight arch in his brow. His red tie is loose and his sweater vest is undone by one button.
Safe to say you were pretty entranced by them.
Both are illuminated by a dim Amber light coming from the evening sky outside, and it only adds to their beauty.
"Is there something on my face?" Jayce knocks you out of your trance, his face decorated with a boyish smirk.
You scoffed and looked away. "You're really funny talis," you said sarcastically, your eyes rolling back in the process.
"I think you're pretty funny too." Two large hands sat on your desk.
You looked up to see Jayce. His dark eyes are boring holes into you as his square jaw clenches slightly. You see and feel something in his gaze that makes you feel on fire.
"I think it's funny that you think we don't see how you look at us"
Jayce's face grins when he sees the beet red tint blanket your face, your jaw hangs low as the two of them begin to laugh.
"I didn't mean to make you both uncomfortable I jus-"
"You're scaring her, jayce. Relax, love, it's okay. " viktor held up his bony hand with a small smile. "Were not interrogating you, ignore him"
You took a deep breath and stood up to find a new pencil. You could feel the two scientists' eyes still on you. One like honey one like midnight, but both equally as enthralling.
"If I've done something wrong, please tell me"
"You haven't done anything wrong, love. Why didn't you mention you had a crush on us? Were not that scary, are we?" Jayce finishes his sentence with a deep chuckle.
"No, of course not, but your both-", you fixed your glasses. ",well your both quite attractive and a bit out of my league, so I just decided to stay quiet,"
Both jayce and viktor stepped closer to you, the two of them putting a hand on either shoulder for some kind of comfort. You first looked at viktors honey golden eyes. They were gentle and encircled by dark tint.
"You weren't very quiet with your eyes movements, dear. Infact I'm surprised you didn't notice either of us also looking at you, we've caught you staring many times"
"What?" Your mouth fell agape.
Jayce laughed. "Of course we noticed. You were staring when viktor was fixing his tie earlier last night before we left for the meeting"
Viktor interrupted. "And at that very same meeting, I caught you drooling over jayce when he was giving his speech"
By now, you were bright red and hiding behind your hands. You could've died right then and there of pure embarrassment. You couldn't believe that your secret endeavours of glancing upon your superiors had finally been noticed.
"Oh my gosh I had no idea!" You exclaimed.
Trying to help with your blushing but failing deeply, and really only making it worse, jayce put his hand in yours. It was rough and calloused and warm and felt like home. You were at home with them and you hoped that they would be understanding about this all.
"How would you like to upgrade from assistant to partner? It's a full-time position,"
Viktor grinned and ran his free hand through his hair, the other holding his cane.
"Are you... serious?" You looked at the both of them. Eyes darting back and forth.
They both nodded eagerly. "You've been deeply loyal and loving to us for many months now, and you've become more to us than just an assistant," jayce spoke as he held your hand tightly.
Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you said yes. Viktor planted soft kisses to your cheek.
"Come with us dear"
#arcane#jayvik fic#jayvik x reader#arcane viktor x reader#jayce talis#jayce talis x reader#arcane fic#viktor arcane x reader#viktor x reader
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ok guys i don't like how someone threw it out there that curly was an enabler and now we've made that his entire personality, just like how we made rapist the only thing jimmy was about.
yes, curly's reaction to anya's words was not great, but let's dig a little deeper there. it's very much implied/obvious that him and curly's relationship wasn't good at all, given how curly reacts to jimmy's outburst. the implication that there was emotional abuse shouldn't be taken as absolute but you should also take it into consideration
and also, the psych evals. normally, a responsible fucking captain would've honestly done it, but the way that he lets jimmy slide and passes him in spite of work ethics and the possible violation he might be making by doing that gives some vague feeling of him feeling a need to cover up whatever jimmy's answers were or something adjacent to it implies SOMETHING. you dont just risk a work violation to make your 'friend' pass for nothing.
(this also kinda ties in to jimmy going "i can do it, i can fix things, i can fix this.")
also, the scenes in which you play from curly's point of view, where you walk through a sea of blood with disturbing warnings and alarms just to reach the sun -- the sun, leading to the blank white peace before reaching the cockpit IN WHICH jimmy resides, can be a metaphor for attachment. he was willing to push past unspeakable and disturbing horrors merely to reach jimmy. just so he could talk to jimmy. there has to be a deep relationship between the two of you to be willing to go through things. obviously the scene isn't literal, moreso a sort of analogy for the type of things curly would go to just for jimmy.
imagine that amount of devotion towards a person, who you soon found out to be a rapist. you'd need a whole lot of time before processing that actually, because personally, when i found out that someone whomst i trusted the most would betray me in such a manner, i couldn't move on for fucking years. imagine the person who you've done everything to save, just for them to willingly plunge themselves into the depths of hell.
whether for indulgence, or for control, jimmy did what he did. and curly had barely any time to pross that before jimmy (who was, presumably looking for the gun though had it hidden from him) was walking to the cockpit and crash the ship as an attempt to flee the responsibility of anya's pregnancy.
curly was overloaded with emotional feelings before he could even reach jimmy. he isn't completely blameless, but he isn't an utterly morally reprehensible being. yes, he should have done something--anything than to merely stand by and let things happen, but you can't blame him for not doing so.
he couldn't lock him in the cockpit, because jimmy wouldve done what he did. he couldnt lock him in utility, jimmy would've fucked up the crypopods. he couldn't lock him in medical, jimmy would've messed with their supply. sure, he could try locking him in his own quarters, but what if curly got into an accident even without the crash, and tulpar was left with neither pilots?
curly is a morally ambiguous character. he is neither a wholly good person nor is he a wholly awful person. he is a victim, but he is also an enabler. being a victim shouldnt cancel out being an enabler, but being an enabler shouldnt cancel out being a victim.
stop being fucking media illiterate you idiot and view him through a lens other than black and white IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!!!! sobs
#mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#captain curly#jimcurly#<-- tag added because these two fucks are strangely homoerotically codependent#curly#curly mouthwashing
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Her name is Alana De Riva. She was a slave in Tevinter, but got freed and joined the Antiva Crows after she helped Viago(pre-talon) get in her former master's mansion to assassinate him.
She is chaotic good. Sometimes too chaotic, sometimes too good
Elf and mage
Possibly in Antiva, maybe captured by the Antaam after she freed their prisioners
It's a mix between the postive one and the joking one
Bellara, Neve, Harding and Taash
Lucanis
None one really, poor thing has zero sense of self preservation
She loves the crows, they are the only family she has known and its very grateful for the part they played on her fleeing slavery but Viago fears she is too soft for the job sometimes and that might be her downfall
No, but she has sweet singing voice, nothing professional or anything but she used to sing to the others slaves to soothe them and does the same for the crows fledglings after they had particulary tough training day
Dagger and orb - she is not picky about which one
She is very curious and experimental, don't think she has come to a conclusion on that matter
It's her job. She will enjoy it though if she thinks someone desarves it.
She hadn't have much time for hobbies since she pretty much went from being slave, to crow training to save the world from elven gods but since she moved to Antiva she is been training to learn how to draw and paint. She wants to paint the landscapes at night.
Viago is big brother to her (or maybe like a grumpy dad?) and she looks up to Teia. She is also as close as one can get to the current Heir from the crows bc they were recruited at the same time and trained together. She got super starstruck when she met Dorian because she remembered her master's hatred of him, she admired him for speaking up against slavery in Tevinter ever since. She hates the first warden guts. And she can't forgive Illario after what he put Lucanis through, even if he does.
After meeting Assan, Griffons, for sure. I have a headcanon that she often visits his brothers and sisters in Arlathan forest and even bonded with one of them
Yes, she is very thankful for get the chance to see all the world because it's something she never thought she'd be able to do as a slave.
Probably working with the crows, trying to think of way to end the Antaam occupation.
Probably because she was too good for her own good. Doing some not so well thought out selfless, self sacrificing act. Viago will be pissed.
She would fight him, but like, try to talk things over first for the Inquisitor's sake.
She is specially proud of her eletric magic because it is effective and she manages to wield it with some flair (as a crow should)
Tevinter and Antivan. She knows some elven and curse words in Qunari that Taash taught her
She would try to be optimistic and push through the crises so when it's finally over I think she has no energy to do anything. After the events of the endgame she might need a few days in bed, cuddling with Lucanis before she can function again
She is not very spiritual or religious, so no. She caught some mannerism and habits from the Andrastian faith but isn't a firm believer herself.
Spell blade, she incorporates her crow training to her magic fighting style.
A tiny and energetic dog, will bite you and cuddle with you with the same passion
She had just turned into a full fledged crow, so there was a lot of being (happily) bossed around by Viago
She considers heself the leader but listen to everyone and specially asks Harding for advise since she had been working with Verric the longest and also has the experience in the Inquisition
The shadow dragons, she'd love to help free other slaves. She'd have a great time with the Lords of Fortune too.
She is kind, didn't let the cruelty and horrors she experience turn her bitter. She is full of life and face the worlds with an open chest and open heart
Rook Questionnaire
inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!
1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?
2: What is your character's alignment?
3: Race and subclass?
4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?
5: What emotion did they usually pick?
6: What companion are you platonically close with?
7: Romantically close with?
8: Who are they suspicious of?
9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?
10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?
11: Weapon of choice?
12: What is their orientation?
13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?
14: What hobbies does your Rook have?
15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?
16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?
17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?
18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?
19: How do you think they'll meet their end?
20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?
21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?
22: What languages is your character fluent in?
23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?
24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?
25: What specialization best represents your Rook?
26: What animal best represents your Rook?
27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?
29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?
#dragon age#or ask me!#veilguard#rook#lucanis x rook#rookanis#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#crow!rook#antivan crows#viago de riva#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age lucanis#lucanis romance
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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄
sypnosis: the strongest lets you wear his blindfold and things escalated very quickly.
contains: friends to lovers? p in v, oral sex, etc.
pairings: gojo satoru/reader
warnings: mdni nsfw ahead!
a/n: took a break and now im here. sorry if it sucks cause i didn't proofread it cause im still busy :(
"Like who puts milk first? Some people are just a bunch of psychos!" He clasps both sides of his head in a dramatic way as he ranted.
"Uh huh"
"Don't give me that 'oh it's to prevent my cereal from getting soggy' shit. I can't understand them Y/N!" He whined and you put your mug down on the coffee table where his long legs where resting.
"You know what I don't understand?" You look at him and he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'what'. "How you can see through your blindfold. I get that you have the six eyes but i dont get how the seeing through shits works. Can you also see other objects?" You look at him as if he was a flat earther and he only laughs.
"That's cause im cool." He arrogantly brushed his hair back. "And only cool people can do this!" You roll your eyes knowing you're not getting a proper answer from him.
"Wanna try wearing it?" He asks you and you immediately shake your head. "No! You're gonna tire yourself out and I was just-" he cuts you off. "Look, I might say that a lot but trust me I'm not that weak and its only for fun! Its not like you're going to burn it or something."
His long fingers then trail to the top of his blindfold and pulled it down slowly. There you can see his mesmerizing azure eyes staring down at you. "Here." He hands you his blindfold.
You reluctantly take it from him and you slide it on. As expected, you can't see anything. Just right before you can take it off, a pair of lips meet yours, capturing you in a tender yet deep kiss.
"Mmh!" You push him away and took off the blindfold. You see him looking at you with a flushed face. "Y/N I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me I just-" you kiss him cutting off whatever he said. His eyes widen and immediately kisses you back.
And thats how you end up face down ass up taking in the meanest backshots you've ever received. "Fuck!" He spanked your ass hard making you squirm. His huge hands gripped your hips hard to keep you in place.
The way he was pistoning into you made you tear up from how it good it felt. You wish you can see him through the blindfold that was preventing you from seeing.
"Satoruuu" you whine as he rubbed tight circles on your clit making your legs tremble. His tip was kissing your g-spot trying his best not to hit your cervix and cause any discomfort. "Y/N" he whimpered your name, he feels like his hips had a mind of its own, moving on its own like it was a hungry beast.
As the teacher's lounge was filled with sounds of your hips hitting each other along with your moans and whimpers. He flips you on your back and kisses you again. This abyss is something you never want to escape. Your souls were colliding, fading into each other as you made love with passion.
"I'm cummin' ngh can i cum in you? Please let me cum in you." He begged desperate to release himself inside your gummy walls.
"yes please cum in me. Fill me up satoru." You nod vigorously, drunk in his touch and love. He kneaded your breasts, pulling and pinching them as he picks his pace up desperate to cum.
"Ah-yes fuck yes!" He groaned feeling his balls tighten as they hit your ass. "Don't stop, please! Fuck right there yes!!" Your eyes roll back behind the fabric as you fill his warm cum fill you up.
His trembling hands sloppily takes off the blindfold, giving you access to see again. He groped your breast and sucked the other one as he grinds into you again.
You kiss him before moving down to his still-hard cock. You kiss his tip and pre cum leaked out of him. As you start sucking him off he licks a long stripe on your cunt making you gasp and almost lose your balance. "Ah! Satoru wait- ngh!" He only pushes your head further down and fucks your mouth.
after what felt like an eternity you both reached your limits and is now cuddled up on the couch. You kiss his cheek and he holds you closer.
The silence went on for a long time until you hear the door open.
Oh shit.
#✎ᝰ.scribbles#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru#gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Too Early-- Konig(cod) x reader SMUT
a/n: omg omg hi !!!! this is my first smut ever so pls be nice i'm doing my best !😭😭😭 pls send in requests i need ideas and whatnot(should i make a masterlist/what fandoms i'll write for ??)
summary: the morning after Konig comes home from deployment, you wake up in bed alone >:(
**reader is also in the military and has a working dog named percy ! he's mentioned like twice**
word count: 3.3k
tags/tw: smut, basically porn w very little plot, switch!konig + switch!reader, reader has fem body parts, oral(m and f receiving), face-sitting, 69, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, light choking, mating press
You wake with a frustrated huff.
The bed around you is empty and cold, no Konig(your lovely fiancée), and no Percy(your perfect four-legged partner). You sit up and rub your eyes with a loud yawn.
You can hear your dog's nails on the tile as he sprints towards the bedroom. You let out a sleepy chuckle as you watch him launch himself onto the bed and climb up onto you. “Oh- god-” You laugh, petting and roughhousing with the dog for a bit. After that, you get up and pull on some shorts before stretching and letting Percy lead you to the kitchen- where Konig is standing and making some breakfast. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps and turns down the music he had playing.
“Ah, guten morgen, mein shatz.” He offers you a small smile.
“Good morning.” You huff, wrapping your arms around his waist and shoving your face into his back. Konig doesn’t react, continuing to use the stove. “What is the matter?” He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You always wake up so early.” You complain, no real malice behind it. He simply chuckles. “Are you hungry?” He offers as he turns off the stove. “What’d you make?” You let him go and hop up on the counter. “Just some eggs and bacon.” He shrugs. He puts everything on a big plate before setting it down and turning back to you. “You hungry?” He repeats, putting his hands on either side of you on the counter.
“Not yet,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I jus’ woke up, unlike someone.” You tease, bumping your nose against his. Konig lets out a huff and brings his hands up to your lower back, where his fingers flex and trace shapes into your shirt(his shirt). “Maybe next time I’ll wake you up instead of sneaking out of bed to make you breakfast like a good verlobten.” He pouts, his breaths mingling with yours as he speaks. “Nooo-” You try to shake your head but he presses his lips firmly to yours, effectively shutting you up.
You make a noise against his lips as one of his hands cups the back of your head, the other gripping at your hip. You let out a breathy laugh when he pulls back for air, “I love you.” You sigh, tangling your fingers through his long hair, pulling out the little hair tie to release his auburn locks.
“I love you,” He parrots, letting his head fall down to your shoulder, “I missed you.” He noses along your neck and you laugh again, bringing your hands to his chest to push him away. “Konig! That tickles.” You continue to laugh as he lifts his head up, a big grin on his face.
“I am just having my fun, liebling.” He says, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Mmm, you’re having too much fun- it’s too early.” You manage to get out between kisses. “No such thing.” He says before moving his head down to mouth at your jaw and neck. “I’m barely even awake.” You murmur, your hands now gripping his shoulders. One of his hands suddenly reaches between your thighs and rubs his fingers along your clothed core, making you jump away from the sudden intrusion. “You feel awake to me.” He says simply, a smug look on his face.
“Konig.” You mean to say it in a chastising way but it comes out more as a whine. “Yes?” He mumbles, shoving his face in your chest, nosing the valley of your breasts over your shirt. His fingers press harder against you and you shift your hips forward slightly, your mouth dropping open.
He starts tracing slow circles over your clothed clit and you grab the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his long hair. “I want to taste you.” His voice is low, needy.
“Please.” You let one of your hands tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. That’s all he needs; he makes a pleased sound and pulls back just to pull your shorts and underwear down your legs. You lift your hips slightly to make it easier and he drops to his knees, letting the clothing fall to the floor.
Suddenly, Percy is headbutting Konig and trying to play- sending the 6 '10 man stumbling onto his ass. You let out a laugh as Konig regains his balance, “Lauf.” You instruct the dog through your giggles and he runs out the doggie-door to the backyard.
Konig lets out a huff, ignoring the ruined tension in the room; he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder before pulling you to the edge of the counter. “Hey- easy-” You grip onto the counter to prevent yourself from slipping off. “I am getting impatient.” He says, a pout on his face as he presses kisses on your inner knee.
“I can see that- oh, f-fuck-” You barely get the sentence out before Konig is shoving his face between your legs. Your body jolts away from him on instinct, but he keeps his firm hold on your thighs, keeping you close so he can lap at your clit. Konig grumbles as you close your thighs around his head; he simply turns to nip at the soft flesh there and you yank them apart. He quickly latches back onto his target and you let out a high-pitched whine, digging your heel into his back to push him closer. “Konig- holy shit!” You cry out, letting your head fall back and exposing your neck.
Konig takes the opportunity of you looking away to shove a finger inside your hole. You gasp, straightening up and reaching down to grip his hair with one hand. He curls his finger once, twice, then inserts two more- all while his tongue continues its work on your bundle of nerves.
It’s all becoming too much, and you pant wildly while your heels continue to press into Konig’s back- needing more, more, more. Konig lets out a chuckle against you and you groan, “Come on, Konig, please-!” He knows what he’s doing, the asshole. Finally, he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, massaging your g-spot as he does. You let out a loud, high-pitched whine and he doubles down on your clit, sending you quickly tumbling over the edge.
Your fingers pull and yank at his hair while your thighs tremble around his head as you ride out the waves, slowly coming down as his lapping subsides. He breaks away, looking up at you with a goofy grin, the bottom half of his face shiny with your juices. “I swear, you taste even better than I remember.” He says excitedly, practically giggling.
You laugh along with him breathlessly, pushing on his shoulders as he climbs up and tries to kiss you. “S-stop! You’re all gross!” You laugh, your shaky arms unable to hold him back as he rubs his cheek against yours. You let out a loud yelp, groaning at the wet feeling on your face. “You’re so gross!” You pout, wiping your face with the t-shirt you're wearing.
“I think we have gotten much more “gross” before, have we not?” Konig raises an eyebrow, a goofy smirk on his face; his accent and what he’s implying sends another rush of arousal straight between your legs. You cringe at his words as he scoops you up, his hands under your thighs- your bare core brushing against the front of his sweatpants.
“Would you like to continue this here on the counter or in our bed?” He asks, but he’s already walking towards your shared room. “You’re not really giving me a choice.” You huff, letting out a laugh as he tosses you onto the bed. “I like it here more.” Konig shrugs simply, reaching to pull his shirt over his head as you scoot toward the edge of the bed, grabbing at his waistband.
Konig runs his large hand through your hair as you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go, exposing his long, hard length to your eager eyes.
Konig takes a deep breath in as you pump his cock a few times, watching precum start to leak from his pretty red tip. “Scheiße.” He mutters, tugging on the roots of your hair. You grin up at him before taking him in your mouth.
You focus on the head for a few moments, swirling your tongue around and then suddenly taking him deeper. He hits the back of your throat and your nose hits the patch of hair that rests above the base of his cock. Konig makes a strangled noise, his head falling back as he groans. “H-ah, you are feeling- you feel so good, engel.” He pants, starting to match the bobbing of your head with small, careful thrusts of his hips.
He knows how big he is-he isn’t stupid- so he knows to be more careful during oral- no matter how often you whine and tell him it’s okay.
Konig’s grip on your hair tightens and his panting turns to whines and whimpers. “Ah, gott, you must stop. Ah- I am going to come, bitte- I cannot take it-” He’s frantically begging, his cock twitching with the effort to keep himself from cumming.
You pull off his cock for a moment, looking up at him with a smug smile- Konig whines, but he’s relieved. “Thank you, danke, liebling.” He pants, taking a moment to wipe the drool from your chin with his thumb. “I wanted to taste you.” You pout, and he chuckles, tilting your chin up as he leans down.
You meet him halfway, rising off your hands as his mouth meets yours. You groan into his mouth as his tongue forces its way into your eager one, you reach up to grab onto his pecs- groping and tweaking at his nipples. He chuckles against your mouth, sending a fresh wave of arousal down between your legs.
“You are so needy today, shatz. What do I do with you?” He murmurs as you playfully nip at his bottom lip. “I think you should lay down and let me have some fun.” You suggest, letting your mouth continue to travel down his jaw and neck.
The air in the room shifts. “Should I?” Konig hums- testing the waters. His fingers tighten around your waist significantly as you dig your teeth into his neck.
“Go on.” You murmur, pressing a smooch over the bite to soothe it. Konig makes a small noise of content, nodding as he moves away from you to lay down comfortably on his back. “You comfy?” You ask, your hands finding their way to his thighs where they squeeze and grope at the taut muscles there. “Mhm, yes schatz.” He agrees quickly, moving to sit up on his elbows so he can watch you.
You open your mouth, letting a glob of spit fall onto the head of his cock. Konig inhales sharply, and you watch his cock twitch with a playful grin on your face. “Keep your hands at your sides and don’t move or I’ll stop, okay?” You look up to meet his eyes and he nods, “Ja, yes- okay.” He moves his arms to his sides and lays flat on his back. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and squeeze it a few times to watch how his body reacts. His abs tremble slightly as he grows more desperate.
You pull your hand away from his cock and watch as he closes his eyes and takes in a deep inhale. “Be good for me, alright?” You hum, crawling up the bed so you can swing your leg over his face so you're straddling him.
“Scheiße, can I hold you, engel?” Konig asks quickly, his breath fanning against your core. The feeling makes you clench around nothing, and you decide to be nice to him. “Alright, fine.” You agree, and his hands immediately shoot up to grip your thighs. They swiftly start to slide up and grope any part of your body he can reach as he waits for you to take a seat.
You intertwine your fingers with his, stopping his hands from moving any further; “Keep ‘em here or they’re going by your sides.” You put his hands on the tops of your thighs, where he experimentally squeezes a few times. “Yes, schatz.” He murmurs.
“You know the rules.” You hum, lowering yourself onto his face before he can mumble a response. He gets right to work, lapping at your pussy eagerly.
Konig must not be in the mood to be punished today, because he does exactly as you ask of him- his hands don’t move from their spot, his hips stay glued to the bed, and he doesn’t tease. He steadily works you to your climax, his tongue fucking into your hole as he tilts his chin up to press it against your clit.
The friction of his stubble and the feeling of his tongue has your thighs trembling and you press your hips down harder against his face.
You unabashedly moan as you continue to grind onto his face, his tongue making little shapes over your puffy clit. “So good- you’re so good, Konig.” You whine, leaning forward to grab at his hard member. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making him cry out against your core.
You bob your head quickly up and down his cock, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. “Fuck- fuck, schatz.” Konig’s deep voice is muffled by your core as he starts to unravel.
You grip onto his thighs, massaging and lightly scratching at them as you hollow your cheeks. Tears fill your eyes at the stimulation on your clit and the fullness of your throat. You pull off of him for a moment to catch your breath, stroking his cock with your hand as you pant; “I’m close, you wanna cum with me? Hmm?” You ask, keeping up your brutal pace with your hand.
He mumbles something you can’t quite make out, but you can feel him nodding against you, and he continues to eat you out with a newfound fervor. You figure that’s good enough of an answer, so you take him back into your mouth with a groan- making quick work to bring him to the edge again.
You don’t even have time to warn him before you're cumming hard against his face. You barely notice the way your juices drip down his face onto his neck and the sheets below him because his warm seed shoots down your throat. You choke for a moment before you swallow, pulling off of Konigs cock to cough and catch your breath.
Konig pays no mind to you or the fact that he just came, he licks up any juices on your thighs and cleans up your pussy until you're whining at the overstimulation. When you've had enough, you clamber off of him, letting yourself lay on your back as you come down from the high.
Konig sits up to look down at you, a dopey grin on his face. “Thank you, mein schatz.” He murmurs, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as the kiss quickly becomes more heated.
“I love you.” You manage to get out between the rough prodding of his tongue. “I love you.” He pants, his eyebrows furrowing as he nips and sucks on your jaw.
“Can I take you? Please, liebling.” He whines against your skin and you trail your fingers through his long hair. “Please.” You nod eagerly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull his hips against your own. He wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance; immediately shoving himself completely inside with a relieved sigh. You moan out, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders as you recover from the sudden intrusion.
“Konig.” You grumble in warning and he quickly drops his head into the crook of your neck, letting you adjust to his size. “Sorry- sorry, engel. You just feel so good. So good, mein engel.” He rambles, mouthing at your neck as he waits for the okay to continue.
He holds himself up on his elbows, his fingers playing at the skin of your sides that he can reach. You run your fingers up and down his shoulder blades as you make him wait a little longer. You clench around him a few times, making him whine loudly in your ear, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly.
“Please, liebling- let me make you feel good.” He begs, running his teeth along the side of your neck, where he bites softly every so often.
“Okay, go ahead, Ko- fuck-!” You can’t get the words out before he’s slamming into you at a brutal pace, keeping his forehead pressed to your shoulder.
You cry out, one of your hands grabs at his hair while the other grips his bicep for dear life. “A-ah, schatz, you feel so gut. Y-you- du gehörst zu mir.” He continues to ramble as he desperately rams his cock into you. “Konig, please-” You whine, pulling his face to yours to press your lips to his.
The kiss quickly devolves and Konig pulls back so he can grab your leg at the back of your knee, pressing it to your chest so he can press deeper inside you. You throw your head back and moan; Konig is quick to wrap his free hand around your exposed throat.
He squeezes lightly a few times, the sensation sending a rush of fresh arousal between your legs. “G-god, you’re so good for me, Konig. Always make me feel so good.” You sigh, brushing some of his stray hairs from his sweaty forehead.
Your words seem to send a burst of energy through him; he pulls your ankles up onto his shoulders and puts his hands on either side of your head to pound into you harder. The sound of skin slapping is quickly covered by the sound of your combined moans as you two barrel towards your climaxes. “I only want to be g-good for you- verdammt.” Konig whimpers against your skin as he drops his head against you- focusing solely on slamming his hips into yours.
“Please, let me cum, engel. Ich brauche es- I’ve been good.” He continues, one of his hands slipping between your bodies to messily rub your puffy clit.
You can barely think- let alone speak- so Konig continues begging and whining against your skin as you get closer and closer to your release.
You realize he’s waiting for you to answer him so you try to hold back your orgasm to reply to him; “I- shit, Konig-! Yes, yes, yes- cum for me, please. I’m so close.” You babble incoherently, grabbing his wrist to keep him rubbing at your needy clit. “F-fuck-!” Konig cries out loudly, your words sending him tumbling into his climax. The warmth of his cum, his steady thrusts, and his harsh fingers on your bundle of nerves send you right over the edge after him.
Konig works the both of you through your orgasms before collapsing next to you with a small smile on his face.
“I love you, mein liebling.” He murmurs, pressing kisses to your cheek as he patiently waits for you to come down from your high. “I love you, Konig. Thank you, baby. You did so well.” You murmur, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. He seems to grow brighter at that, his smile widening as he leans forward to nip at your bottom lip. “You wanna go get me a rag so I can clean up?” You hum, pressing your lips against his a few times before he can answer.
“You think I am done with you, schatz?” The wild look in his eyes and that stupid grin have a familiar burn growing deep in your belly.
--
ITS FINALLY DONE !!!
holy shit this has taken me literal months to write i'm so sorry😭😭 as i mentioned before this is my first smut so it was so awkward for me LMAO hopefully it'll get easier in the future
thank you for reading !!!! <3
#drabbles#fanfic#fluff#cod#konig cod#cod mw2#call of duty#konig x reader#konig x you#konig call of duty#konig x y/n#konig smut#kortac#smut
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