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#but its got to be close enough where he can come quickly
mollyrolls · 1 month
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okay now i have a follow up question because now im oddly invested in this: when akaashi throws the tennis shoe at the cockroach and misses and the cockroach then disappears, what’s the next move?? do you call someone for help ??? do you guys just like leave ?? do you have an exterminator on standby ????
we are on HIGH alert for the next 5 minutes, like back to back scanning the room for any movement. if we find it, he tries again. if he misses again god forbid or we cant find it, we just have to leave the room until we forget abt it and PRAYYYYYY it wont come back.
iwaizumi is our exterminator on standby 🫶🫶
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sanguineterrain · 5 months
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Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
****
Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.
It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.
But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.
Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.
And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.
There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.
He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.
Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.
“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.
“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”
Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.
“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”
A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.
“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”
Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.
“Now is best.”
Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”
Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.
The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.
Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.
“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”
He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.
“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”
To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”
Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.
Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.
“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.
Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.
“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”
There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.
“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”
The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.
Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”
Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”
Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.
“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.
“…Kissing.”
Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?
He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.
“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”
Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.
“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”
Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.
“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”
Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.
“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”
A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.
He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.
The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.
“Eddie—” He starts.
“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”
Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.
There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”
Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.
“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.
He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”
Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.
He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.
“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”
Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”
Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.
“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.
Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.
Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.
He can’t find one single ounce of regret.
next part.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 5 months
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LN4 | Win & Woo
Summary: Congratulating Lando after his first race win is a lot more difficult than you expected. When you finally get the chance to, he reacts differently than you anticipated.
Lando Norris x best friend!Reader
WC: 3.1K
Warnings: Cursing, making out
Masterlist
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You’re watching from the garage as Lando drives around the track. You keep your eyes on the screen in front of you as you bite your nails. You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before. Lando has been leading the race for over twenty laps now, and it’s only a few more until he wins – his first win. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your eyes are locked on Max’s gap to Lando, not even paying attention to everything else that’s happening on track. You’re grinning widely, barely keeping in your excitement, when you see the number get larger at every glance. You’re trying to calm yourself down, to not get too excited too early because you know from earlier experiences that everything can go wrong in one split second, even on the last laps, but there’s no rain today.
You hear the commentators speaking in the background as you stare at the TV. Every time they say something about how this might be Lando’s first win, your heart skips a beat, mentally scolding them not to jinx this wonderful opportunity. Your focused gaze on the screen doesn’t falter as Lando starts his last lap. No matter what happens around you, your eyes are pointed that way. You’re fumbling with your fingers and nibbling on your lip anxiously as you watch Lando turn through the last corners, a smile slowly making its way on your face.
Next thing you know, you’re screaming, jumping and cheering as Lando crosses the checkered flag first. You’re smiling so big that your cheeks hurt as you hug Max and cheer with the team. You quickly congratulate the team before rushing to the parc fermé, hoping to congratulate Lando before he’s whisked away for the podium. 
It’s busy – what else did you expect? You can barely work your way through the crowd, but you try anyway, pushing people aside to see your best friend. You can’t see him yet, but you hear the cheers of people as he appears on the big screens nearby. You watch how he’s congratulated by his competitors, as Fernando and Carlos come over to hug him and how Lando takes a sprint to the team awaiting him. He’s got a big smile on his face, a blissed-out look, when he jumps over the fence into the team who’s ready to catch him. 
You’re close enough to see him on top of the crowd of orange, but he can’t see you. That doesn’t mean he’s not trying to, tough. The second he got out of the car, he was searching for you, and that’s what he does as soon as he’s got both his feet on the ground again. But before he can properly look around, Zak has found him, and then Andrea, and in no time he’s led away from where you’re standing. It’s useless for you to fight your way to the front when he’s already gone. So you change your course, quickly move back, and rush to the podium.
You search your way through the seemingly maze-like paddock as you hurry to make it to the podium in time. You can hear the drivers talk about their race over the speakers that are everywhere while you walk and you can hear Lando laughing in the background, but you don’t let it distract you; you’re on a mission. 
When you get to the podium, you’re once again pushing through the crowd in search of a place in front, somewhere Lando can see you. Thankfully, Zak spots you and helps you out, pulling you to stand in front of him where Lando’ll be able to find you. Although Lando hasn’t told him, Zak has caught wind of his secret crush and knows that he’ll probably be searching for you in the crowd of orange.
You cheer and clap politely when Charles and Max walk to their respective podium steps, but you watch with tears in your eyes and pride welling up inside you when Lando runs onto the stage. You clap and cheer as loudly as you can, staring up at him on the highest step. You can see his eyes flitting around in search of you while he pumps his fist through the air. His face lights up with happiness as soon as he finally spots you in the crowd. He winks with a big grin, and your smile grows even more in response. You can’t feel anything but delight at his achievement – the goal he’d been trying to reach ever since he stepped foot into his first kart, his life-long dream. The tears of joy are rolling down your face; you’ve never been so proud. 
He smiles at you from his spot that’s much too far away and sticks up his thumb as if he’s asking you if you’re okay. You laugh at the motion and nod your head. Of course, you’re okay, you’re more than okay, you’re elated.
You admire Lando in his essence. He looks so pretty up there, face turned towards the sun with his eyes closed, soaking in his victory. He wipes under his eyes, and while some might question whether it's sweat or tears he’s wiping away, you know it’s the latter.
You cheer when the anthem ends, and then again when he throws the trophy up, nearly gasping in shock when you see it flying through the air. It would be such a Lando thing to break his first P1 trophy, but he catches it in time and places it securely on the ground, although it’s not necessarily safe there either.
You can’t seem to take your eyes off him, not when Andrea’s handed his trophy, or when Max gets his. And when Charles receives his prize, your gaze is still focused on Lando. But then again, he’s staring at you too. Your eye contact is so intense that Lando doesn’t see the champagne coming. Absolutely shocked at the cold beverage that’s sprayed on his face. And even if he had seen it coming, he would’ve had no time to react to how fast Max and Charles were targeting him.
He’s wiping his face, this time not because of tears (or sweat), but to get the slightly burning alcohol out of his eyes. His hands are slippery when he shakes the big bottle of champagne before slamming it. He can’t see that well right now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t aim well. He grins when he hears you squeak at the cold fluid, even though he doesn’t see your reaction with his head turned away.
Your eyes follow Lando’s every move as he wipes the champagne from his face and takes a sip before spraying the bottle again. You can’t help but admire him like this. He looks so happy up there, smiling in joy while he and his colleagues cover each other in champagne. His beaming smile and damp hair, which is curling more than ever, make him look so beautiful, too. You know you shouldn’t be thinking like this – he’s your best friend, but you can’t help it when he looks so pretty up there.
After he has his picture taken, he makes eye contact with you again. He nods his face towards the side, eyebrows raised, silently asking you to meet up with him and you nod in response. Quickly leaving the podium and making your way to the motorhome, you feel Lando’s eyes pricking your back. He feels so lucky, so incredibly lucky, to have you here with him. He can’t believe that you chose to fly out here for him, that you care about him so much that you’d fly around the world just to watch him work. He’s overjoyed to have you here with him to celebrate his first Formula 1 win; to have his best friends here, although he secretly wishes you were more than that.
Lando finishes his duties as quickly as possible, rushing through all the polite talks with the team members, celebrities and competitors so he can go to you. He gets antsier every time someone stops him on his way to his driver’s room, and when Zak stops him to have an extensive talk about his amazing performance, and how much he deserved it, he’s had enough.
“Sorry, Zak, but can we do this later? Y/N’s waiting in my driver’s room and I really want to celebrate with her right now. I haven’t been able to talk to her yet, and-”
Zak grins while Lando rants. He knows there’s more than friendship between you and Lando, and Lando’s current behaviour is only proving him right. 
“Of course, Lan. Enjoy the moment!” He says grinning, patting Lando on the back before pushing him in the right direction.
Lando thanks him before rushing off. Now that he’s finally out of the grasp of the needy people at the podium, he’s basically running through the paddock to get to you as quickly as possible. Completely overheating from the Miami sun, he unzips his race suit before entering the garage. He shakes hands with the team members he comes across, accepting their congratulations with a hasty smile, and hugs Oscar when he runs into him but doesn’t pay them much attention otherwise.
Lando doesn’t even take a moment to calm his mind before rushing into his driver’s room. You squeal in surprise when the door smashes into the wall, and Lando lifts you up into the air before you can catch a look at him. He squeezes you tightly to him as he twirls the both of you, your arms wrapped around his neck so you don’t fall.
You giggle at the feeling of his face pressed into your neck as he slowly settles you onto the floor. Not wanting to let go of Lando yet, you slide one hand over his back as the other combs through his hair while you stay close. The champagne covering his curls makes your hand sticky, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You can smell the sweet alcohol on him as he leans his head on your shoulder and sighs.
The big smile on your face refuses to fade as you whisper, “You won”. You can feel Lando’s cheeks pressing against your shoulder as a smile takes place on his face. Running a hand through his hair once more, you feel the happy tears rolling down your face again. You move your hands away from Lando so you can wipe your face as you sniffle. Lando’s head lifts as soon as he feels the weight of your hands disappear. Holding your waist and gazing into your eyes, he asks, “Are you crying?” with a teasing smile on his face.
You punch his shoulder and roll your eyes, “Shut up!” 
You wipe under your eyes again before sighing, “I’m just so proud of you,” you say, arms hanging limply at your sides.
Lando stares at you intensely, his silly smile still on his face. His gaze is so penetrating that you nearly feel the need to look away. Lando is oblivious to how piercing his eye contact is, only focused on the thoughts that are racing through his mind. No person would cry at the achievements of their best friend, right? Max wouldn’t be crying right now, that’s for sure. Does that mean that maybe you see him as more than a friend? He certainly hopes so. Lando can feel the adrenaline running through his body as he looks at you, it’s pushing him to do things he’s not sure will work out well. He doesn’t want to ruin your friendship, but he wants to kiss you more.
Lando smiles at you, wiping your cheeks clean while he watches you. His hand rests on the side of your face while the other slides down to your hip, where he pulls you in close. He banishes all the thoughts from his head and kisses you with full conviction, with no hesitation (or thoughts) in his brain as he lets his body take over.
His lips move against yours aggressively while his hands grapple to pull you closer. He grips your hip tightly and uses it as leverage to press your body against his while his other hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. The feeling is heavenly, something he has wanted to feel for so long. It feels so right to kiss you, and to feel your body against his.
He’s completely lost in his passion and adoration for you as he kisses you. Meanwhile, you’re in shock. You didn’t expect Lando to kiss you, especially not as fervently as he did. Your surprise left you frozen, completely unmoving, apart from Lando’s hands pulling you nearer. The firmness of your body doesn’t mean the kiss is unwanted, though. In fact, you’re just about to pull Lando closer when he realises your unresponsiveness. His mind switches back on and races faster than his car a moment ago. Fuck – you don’t want this. You’re too polite to stop him, but you don’t want this. He just screwed everything up. Once it dawns on him, he pushes you away so fast you think you’ll have a whiplash.
Your hands are still up in the air where they were about to touch Lando’s chest as you stare at him in shock. He runs his hands across his face in frustration at his fuck-up as he avoids your gaze. He turns away from you, so you can only see his back, his very muscled back, as he sighs and mumbles to himself.
He turns around to face you. You can see the guilt in his eyes when he tries to explain, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” 
You stay quiet as you process Lando’s confession. Why is he apologising? 
He sighs once more at your silence, running his hand over his face, again. He looks up at you through his lashes but doesn’t say anything. You’re about to respond when he continues, “No, fuck it. I’m not sorry. I love you.”
“Lando,” you tell him, breathlessly. You step closer to him and smooth your hands over his shoulders and towards his chest, “kiss me?”
You don’t have to say that twice. Lando grabs your waist as his lips meet yours in another rough kiss while your hands shoot up to hold his face. He pushes you up against the door as he nibbles on your lip. You moan softly at the feeling of Lando’s body against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You can taste the champagne on his tongue when you kiss him back just as passionately.
Your hands find their respective place in Lando’s hair again and you pull on the curls softly, earning a quiet groan in reward. The sound gets you hot, and it doesn’t help when Lando lets his hands wander over your body. He squeezes your ass gently before hoisting you up and you immediately wrap your legs around him in reflex.
Lando leaves you panting when he moves his kisses from your mouth to your jaw. He manages to pull another moan from you when he sucks on the skin behind your ear. Softly biting before soothingly licking the soft skin, most definitely leaving a mark behind. But that’s exactly his goal, his plan even, as he sucks love bites along your neck. And as much as you love the feeling and don’t want to think about anything but Lando in this moment, the thoughts of leaving the paddock later with the race winner, and the amount of paparazzi that’ll want a picture of him, penetrate your mind. So, you push Lando away from your skin.
“Lan,” you gasp, “we should stop.”
It takes a few seconds for Lando to get his mind back into the right headspace, a headspace in which not every thought is obsessed with you. He stares at you with hazy eyes, and you stare back. Dear God, it’s hard not to kiss him again when he looks like this, with his hair wet from the champagne and messy from your hands and his lips swollen and red from your heated kiss. You nearly let out another moan at the sight, but bite your lip to prevent it.
“Baby, don’t bite your lip if you don’t want me to kiss you,” Lando says hoarsely.
“Sorry.”
You’re both panting while you stare at each other. Neither of you is sure how to continue now. Lando admitted he loves you, should you say it back now? You do love him, but maybe you should wait until he says something. Does this mean you’re dating now? Is he your boyfriend, or do you have to ask first? It’s so unnecessarily confusing and complicated.
“I love you,” you finally admit.
Lando smiles at the confession, “You do, huh?” He says cockily. 
You punch his shoulder again, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like… I don’t know. You’re all smug about it, but you said you loved me first, so I win.”
He laughs at your response, “Sure baby, you win.”
You smile at him, “So, does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”
Lando has a big grin on his face now while he stares at you adoringly, “Yes, if you want me to be,” he says sweetly.
“I want you to be,” you murmur, fiddling with the strands of hair that are falling into his face.
“Good, because I want you to be my girlfriend,” he responds, pulling your chin up.
You smile a big grin at his admission. 
“So, now that that’s settled, can I kiss my girlfriend?” Lando asks with a cheeky smile, to which you merely nod in response.
Lando pulls you closer by your chin, gently placing his lips back on yours. This time, you can feel him smile against your lips while he kisses you softly and lovingly. Nevertheless, the kiss is passionate and lustful. How could it be anything other than that when this was the best day of his life. He just won his first Formula 1 race and got the girl. There's absolutely nothing that could ruin this perfect day, he's sure of it.
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shortcakesturns · 2 months
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 - 𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐑. 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃
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summary: rob fucks you in soulties lol
warnings: unprotected sex, public sex (nobody sees) pet names, female reader, kind of cheating mentions? (not locked in with anyone.) p in v, oral (f recieving) sorry if it’s not that good ☹️
being in a couple rob had its ups and downs, he likes to explore but you liked him. unfortunately the exploring led to him getting by another girl. rob was genuinely upset, he respected you. He felt different about you way different.
The whole day you couldn’t get it out of your head. You sat at the villa staring at liv and rob talk it away to you it didn’t look natural. they looked awkward and you had ill feelings towards liv coming and stealing him from your grasp. You couldn’t let her know you were salty, no..but you could get back at her.
Your legs moved quicker then your brain as you walked closer and closer to rob. “hey rob can I talk to you?”
“yeah sure.” rob got up from where he was sitting and began to follow you as you led him to soul-ties.
“so, I just want to talk to you about what happened last night you know.” you said as you laid down on the cushioned area. Rob quickly laid down next to you.
“me too.” he agreed with you.
“so, I’m lowkey upset by what happened, I know it’s not your fault but I feel like we had a insanely deep connection rob.” you look at him.
“yeah no me too, I think what she did was uncalled for and I was exploring others but I made it clear you were my number one and wasn’t open to the idea of being picked.” he frowns a bit.
“can I make it up to you y/n?” he looks into your eyes.
you pondered how he could make it up to you, you weren’t sure what could fill the void that you once called your couple in the villa. you had been publicly humiliated in front of thousands on tv.
“sure..” you hesitated but gave in. because who could resist those beautiful enticing eyes.
Rob wasted no time grabbing the back of your neck softly but strong enough to pull you to his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth every few pecks, the pecks became slower and deeper but rougher. Eventually both of your tongues meet and rob tugs on the waistband of your shorts.
he lays you on your back and slowly slips off your shorts and underwear tracing his fingers along your pussy. The warmth grows by the seconds and each small touch rob makes. “can I y/n? words sweetie. please.” he groans.
“yes rob, yes please.” you nod desperate for his touch.
“good girl.” he wastes no time sipping down to your wet pussy and pushing your knees to your chest to get a better angle when tasting your sweet spot. His tongue lapped your clit over and over again every other lap entering your hole before tongue fucking your hole while using his thumb to rub your clit.
He mumbles into your pussy as you feel as if your getting dragged to the edge with each lap and dip of his tongue, his thumb rubbing your clit continuously until you tense up feeling your orgasm approaching.
“that’s it let go for me sweet girl.” rob keeps the attack consistent letting you ride out your high.
“more..more rob please.” he smirks when you beg.
“begging for me? since you wanna be good i’ll give you more.” you hear him fumble with his belt buckle.
his pants drop leaving him with just underwear but those are quickly slipped off while he rubs his tip up and down your slit teasing you.
“no teasing rob.” you cry out.
“okay princess no teasing.” rob aligns his tip with your hole and begins to sink in bottoming out throwing his head back in pleasure.
“best pussy ever.” his pace speeds up roughly.
moans escape from your lips, the pleasure so intense that you can’t help but let mewls slip past your lips. his whispers and moans are incoherent too pussy drunk to form words. you guys were in a trance.
a white ring forms around the base of his cock, cream coating his length. “fuck i’m close sweet girl.” his pace begins to get sloppier and sloppier.
“me too rob fuck.” you clench around him as you feel ropes of cum hit your cervix. rob pulls out and pulls your pants up and puts your shirt on and fixes himself. he lays next to you moving strands of hair out of your face.
“if we recouple soon it’s you, your like a drug, and i’m way too addicted.” he presses a kiss against your lips while holding you
—- SORRY IF ITS BAD OR SPELLING MISTAKES ITS LATE NOT PROOFREAD
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rainboww0lfie · 1 year
Text
a ghosts graves
In the aftermath of a battle, Phantom, Batman, and Superman could be see talking between each other. 
During a lull in the conversation a tiny girl comes running from underneath caution tape taped around the vicinity, holding a bouquet of marigolds between her small hands. She’s out of breath and seems to be embarrassed when she stands before the heroes, Batman reacts the quickest to the sudden encounter. Asking her about why shes here and what the problem is, he’s about to ask about her parents when she interrupts with “i have something for mister Phantom”. 
Danny who had been only half listening was caught off guard, he looks at her and tries for a reassuring smile but his confusion must show through because she suddenly looks down shyly at her flowers. 
“I heard from mommy that you put flowers on graves for people you like, ” she starts, “i don't know where yours is though, so i got you flowers to put it wherever it is”. She’s obviously embarrassed about interrupting, but she says the words with a form of determination. Suddenly what seems to be her mother comes running from out of the crowd. 
“I am so, so, sorry for Miya, i didn't mean to loose sight of her, she slipped away, we’ll get out of your hair now. ” the woman says in a rush, gently tugging the child back from the slack jawed heroes. Danny can just make out her gently reprimanding the child for her behaviour when he suddenly steps forward. “Wait, wait, wait” he says quickly, crouching down to the child now hiding a bit behind the mother, “you got me flowers. . . so i can put them on my grave?” the tiny nod he gets from that has him smiling, “you wanted to put flowers on my grave?” is asked with excitement, gaining n even bigger nod in return. 
He takes a small step forward, still crouched, and asks “are you alright with me hugging you?”, the nod lets him quickly move forward a spin the child around in a tight hug, laughing. He smiles brightly at the girl, holding her in his arms with enough space to make sure the flowers were safe, who is smiling back just as brightly. Danny laughs, “no ones ever given me flowers before! And you want them on my grave!” the actions have gained the attention of both civilians and other heroes, Danny could honestly care less though, someone wants to put flowers on his grave! Someone went through the effort of giving him flowers! He is so excited!
Both the mother, Superman, and Batman all look uncomfortable, “have you. . . never gotten. . ahem. . Flowers before?” Superman asks, “i mean, you look young so. . . have your parents never. . . ?”, the ending never gets finished but its definitely implied what he wants to really ask. Danny doesn't care, its not exactly important, right?
He looks at the heroes and says cheerily “i don't think my parents even know im dead!” before looking back at the child in his arms, not seeing all the shocked, pale faced staring( minus Batman, he never emotes, like, at all). 
Eventually the kid has to leave due to dangerousness of the area, but not before a final hug and happy goodbye from Phantom after she hands the flowers to the undead hero. Danny says his goodbyes to the surrounding heroes, not understanding why they all look at him funny as he carries around the marigold bouquet before he flies off. He holds the flowers close to makes sure they dont get destroyed by the wind, but he cant help a few happy loops and twirls in his flight home. 
The first ever flowers for his grave, how exciting!
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Ever since then the heroes and a few civilians make sure to give Phantom flowers each time they see him for his grave. Phantom is so excited people want to give him flowers each time a new set is given to him. 
________________________________________________________________
wooooooo ok
i finally actually wrote something after so long, sorry for the long break between shit, stuff happened :/
sorry if there's any big misspellings or anything like that in here, i had an idea and wanted it down as fast as possible and i fucking ran with it as far as i could lol
y’all can continue this if you want, i just thought this idea was so cute
have a good night/day/afternoon/life
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silentcryracha · 15 days
Text
1k special love week: 1. Bang chan
Pairing: bang chan x reader
Context: part one of eight for my Special Love Week in celebration of 1k followers (🤍). Drabble based on 3 prompts which are 'loves when + kink + sex position'.
Warnings: 18+ only, very minimum buildup, it's 99% smut, one shot, see prompts, fingering (f receiving), intercourse p in v, non protected (but they're married), talk of cum & its consequences (breeding kink hello?), pet names (baby, my love) , a couple uses of the word daddy
Word count: 2.4k
Prompts: Bang Chan loves when you get needy + Dom/sub & Breeding Kink + missionary (+variations)
ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎
Masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Chan loves it when you're needy. Anytime, really. It may be sexual but it also can not be. Being needed is a love language to him. He loves to help, to be the person you go to when you need something. May be something silly like moving a piece of furniture (strenght kink hello?), something more serious like an advice.
Of course he's into it because he cares about you and he loves you, but let's be honest here, it also does feed his ego in some way. That especially comes into play when this neediness is paired with horniness. Then it's over, for both you and him.
You know he likes to be more dominant most of the times, but even then, at the end of the day, it's really you who has him wrapped around your finger.
"Channie are you busy?" you ask, maybe even with a slightly exaggerated whiny voice.
He turns his head a bit to look at you from his seat at the living room table where he'd been working on his laptop for hours.
"Kind of, why baby?" he answered back, promptly welcoming you with one arm as you walked up to him.
"I was wondering if you could give me a massage?" he smirked , squeezing the flesh of your waist sightly.
"Just out of the blue?"
"Actually I think I strained by back a bit from cleaning today" you chuckled, but his smiled dropped so fast it was almost comical. A mixture of worry and annoyance taking its place.
"Did you move the couch by yourself again?" he scolded, standing up and quickly closing the laptop's screen simultaneously. "You hurt yourself last time too. I told you to call me if you needed help"
His tone was becoming a bit intimidating, but you knew he just wanted to help, and especially for you not to get hurt.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, putting your doe eyes on to try and sweet talk yourself out of it.
"I didn't 'hurt' myself! I just got tired, alright? It happens" you shrugged, but you could tell he wasn't happy.
"It happens but if you did as i told you and asked me for help, it wouldn't have" he responded, then added "Now go lay down, I'm gonna get some aloe."
That's when dom/sub dynamic jumps out. When Chan gets annoyed, fake or to play, you automatically obey. It would be a lie to say that you didn't know where this whole situation was gonna go the second you started it.
"Yes" you tried your best to suppress a smile as you walked in your shared bedroom, turning on the warm colored night light.
Then you laid on the bed on your belly, arms hugging the pillow on which your head rested.
A couple of minutes later Chan walked in the room. You didn't quite see him, as your face was turned the opposite way, but you felt him climbing on the bed, straddling your legs.
"Take the sweater off, or it's gonna get sticky" he says. You get up enough to comply, placing it on your breasts, then laying back down.
"Warm it up a bit, please" you asked softly, knowing that the aloe was going to be super cool against your warm skin. It was the chilly autumn season, after all.
"Yeah" he reassured. You heard the sound of the bottle popping open and close, then being discarded to the side.
"I'll try my best" he spoke again, rubbing his palms together to warm up the gel, "But you didn't listen and hurt yourself, so you gotta handle a bit of cold. It'll feel better." His tone was pretty neutral, but the scolding was clear.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
"Do you want the massage or not?" He stopped his movements. You sighed.
"Sorry"
"That's more like it" it was subtle, but you knew him well enough to know he had a stupid smirk on his face. Unfortunately, you were so down bad, that it turned you on even more.
Suddenly his hands touched the skin of your shoulder blades, making you gasp a bit.
"Are they too cold, still?"
"No, it's good. I was just surprised" you chuckled. At that point he started the actual massage, skillfully using his thumbs and other fingers to put pressure.
"Relax, alright? Just tell me if it hurts" you nodded at the best of your abilities due to your position, without replying.
Chan kept working, starting from your upper back, then going back and forth between places. You were in fact so relaxed, your eyelids were almost falling shut. Until he got to your shoulders, which got you instantly back to earth, hissing.
"Tough spot?" He asked. You hummed in agreement, making the pressure of his fingers slightly less forceful but still going.
"I can tell" he paused, "How about here?" he moved his thumbs up, at the nape of your neck.
"Mmh, yes. Feels really good" you answered, feeling almost floaty. So much that you involuntarily started sighing softly.
"Does my baby feel better?" His buttery voice, just a tad bit condescending, sparked something in your stomach.
"Uh uh" he chuckled, now using his palms to caress you, all up and down your back, waist, sides.
"Good. 'Cause the gel is completely dry." And despite that, his movements didn't stop. They just changed the intention.
He lightly traced the tip of his fingers around, giving your goosebumps and sometimes eliciting a small giggle because of tickling.
"Are you sleepy?" He asked sweetly. You shook your head no, looking back at him. He was smiling, but his gaze sharpened as he looked at your face.
"Yes, you are" he teased. You tried to hide a cheeky smile, shaking your head again. You were just trying to be childish, shaking your whole body along with your head.
But your cute butt shaking like that right in front of his eyes and dangerously close to his crotch, kind of sealed the deal. He looked down, then back up at you.
Then, suddenly, slap!
You yelped in surprise as both of his hands came down to slap your ass. He laughed.
"No? Show me, then." He challenged. You didn't need to be told twice.
You managed to roll over on your back, with him still hovering over you. His eyes immediately went to your bare tits, but you didn't let him enjoy the view as you pulled him down towards you by his hoodie.
You started kissing, quite passionately right from the get go. But as much as Chan liked to make out, he wanted to get comfortable.
So he paused, taking off his hoodie quickly, as well as his tracksuit pants and boxers, all in one go. In the meantime, you also discarded your sweater, then taking off your own pants and panties.
When finally you were both naked, you immediately went back to kissing. Chan wrapped one arm around your torso, pulling you towards him, as he worked to get the sheets over you two.
You gave him a questioning look at first, not immediately understanding what he was doing.
"You got goosebumps all over" he explained, also getting between your legs.
"Thank you baby" you mumbled, kissing him again sweetly.
You spent several minutes humping each other and making out, with a little biting and sucking, both probably more tired than you cared to admit.
You properly started to lose it when Chan grabbed himself and slid the head of dick around your drenched pussy, including your sensitive clit.
"C-channie please" your finger pads pressed into his shoulders hard as you whined.
"Please, what?" He replied, voice low, eyes glassy and fixated on yours. Lips plump and slightly agape.
A few strands of his hair had started to get damp and stick to his forehead from the head of your bodies, the adrenaline, and probably also because of the heavy duvet.
He looked so fucking good, enough to make you go stupid.
"Please get inside me" you chocked out, "I need it so bad, please baby" desperation dripping from your words.
"Where does my baby need me? Here?" Two of his fingers slid right in your pussy, no resistance whatsoever by how completely wet you were all over.
You whined a bit, trying to get him closer with your arms.
"N-not enough" you sobbed, "I need your cock, please baby, please"
"Since my love asks so nicely..." He leaned down, placing his plush lips on yours in a sweet kiss, distracting you from the moment in which he actually did enter you.
You both sighed and moaned, in ecstasy. You both liked to get freaky, even a bit rough. But missionary, and all its variations to be honest, were your favorites.
In that position he was dominant, in charge of the work. And you were laying there, needy and desperate, like he wanted you. Not to mention the easy accessibility to your tits, waist, legs, ass.
But let's be real, the actual reason why you both loved that position so much it's because it's intense. Romantic, passionate, creates a close connection, and you have each other's faces right there to kiss. What's better than that?
Maybe the fact that he can go deep...like really deep. Especially when he gets into it and puts your legs over his shoulders, or just keeps them spread at his sides.
Not to mention...that the position itself adds greatly to Chan's whole (and obvious) breeding kink. Just the thought of him spilling his seed inside you, and possibly keeping it there as long as possible, just gets him gone.
Chan was keeping his hands on the side of your face as he went back and forth, inside you, at a fast and rough pace.
His mouth alternated in between giving you kisses and spurring you on with his dirty talk.
"How do you feel, my love?" He panted, "Does your Channie's cock make you feel good?" His voice was so erotic and full of tease, it drove you crazy.
"Mmh- y-yes...'so good daddy" you were so out of it you barely realized the word that slipped from your lips. It wasn't the first time, but it wasn't usual.
He chuckled faintly, still going hard on your abused pussy. He leaned down again, starting to kiss and lick the side of your neck, near your ear.
"Your daddy, uh?" He teased, whispering, "That's right. Daddy 'll take care of you"
All that teasing was getting your even more flushed and lightheaded than you already were, your pussy clenching in involuntarily agreement. Chan groaned at that, chuckling wickedly because he knew what he was doing.
"I..." You whined.
"Ssh, I know, it's alright. You close baby?" You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder with your face.
"Good, good girl" he kissed your head, "Come for me"
Didn't take anything more than that for you to reach your high, your hole clenching around his length, and you shivering from the aftermath and intensity.
Chan slowed down but didn't stop, allowing you to gently get off, except that you started grinding on his crotch.
"You wanna come again?" He smirked, short of breath. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for Chan.
"Say it" he ordered, "I wanna hear my little cum slut say that she wants to cum again"
"Ffuuck yes, I-i'm a little cum slut that wants to cum a-again" you exclaimed, suddenly reinvigorated by the new chase to your second orgasm, to which you were already so close.
"Whose?"
"Yours! Your cum slut, your baby, your everything" you responded, desperately. Chan groaned at that, his pace getting faster.
"Yeah, that's fucking right, my love, my whole world" he mumbled, kissing your lips.
"Can I come with you, mmh? Can I, baby?" You nodded frantically, cupping his face in your hands.
"Yes, please come with me, I wan' it" you slur, "Want your cum inside me, fuck" you gasped as he hit a particularly good spot, just above your cervix.
"Fuck yes" he moans, "Want my cum? Wanna make me a real daddy? So everyone knows who you belong to?"
Your legs clenched around his waist, your heels pushing his butt further into you, if that was even possible.
"Yes" you answer, "Wanna be filled up, carry you around with me everywhere"
That was the last drop for you both to orgasm. Him for the first time, and you for your second. Chan groaned deeply, stilling inside you as his seed sprayed your warm walls. While your own pussy pulsated, wet and sticky.
You remained hugged for a good while, him softening inside you. His breath became so quiet and regular that for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep.
"Channie?" You whispered sweetly. He hummed back, making you smile. Your fingers started to lightly scratch his scalp and caress in between his short hair.
"Now, I'm sleepy" he mumbled, hugging your body tighter.
"You can rest, love" you reply.
"Gotta clean you up" he replied back. So at that point you moved delicately, hinting at him to get off of you. You got up, on slightly wobbly legs and almost jumped for how cold the floor was against your hot feet.
You went into your shared bathroom and grabbed a towel, wetting it a bit. You then came back, finding Chan laying on his side, his hand resting on where you should be, waiting.
"Get the covers back a bit, baby" you say, and he complies. You delicately clean his lower area, including his abs which were full off little droplets. Did you squirt a bit? You didn't even realize.
When you were done you went back in the bathroom, and cleaned some droplets of both your juices that had trickled down your thighs. Then discarded the towel, and peed before coming back into the bedroom.
You picked up all the clothes, putting back on the panties and the sweatshirt.
"Baby do you-?" You were asking if he wanted to get redressed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth pouty. He fell asleep. You smiled warmly, just picking up the boxers and putting away the rest of the clothes.
Then you climbed up on the bed, putting one foot then the other in each hole of the boxers, then trying your best to slide them up. Chan did wake up for a slight second, realizing what was happening, and promptly arched his hips to allow you to pull the fabric up all the way.
After that, you reached your arm to turn off the bed light, and then finally you were back hugging your husband, falling asleep quickly as well.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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sarahscribbles · 16 days
Text
𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐤
𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲
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On any other occasion early evening was your favourite time of the day. 
It was then that you would feel the last rays of sun hit your back, prompting you to swivel in your chair and take in the sight of Manhattan in golden hour. Watching the sky above dance through its hues of gold and pink and orange never failed to calm you at the end of a busy day, and, oftentimes, watching the beauty of the iconic New York skyline would have you pause and think that maybe everything wasn’t so bad. 
Most evenings, you could lose yourself in appreciating the beauty of where you were and the life you got to live.
But not today. Today was different.
Today, the day lingers heavily on your shoulders long after it’s over, each problem you couldn’t solve and person you couldn’t please hanging around you like a pissed off poltergeist. Days like this make you feel like running away. It would be easy, really - you’d beg Tony to let you use his private jet and follow the Gulf Stream far away from your office and all the annoyances that come with the job. It would be so easy, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been sorely tempted by the idea more times than you can count, but you know it’s nothing more than a daydream you’ll never follow through on. 
Because leaving New York would mean leaving the one thing that makes it all bearable. 
He’s sitting on the sofa when you finally walk through the doors of your apartments, looking effortlessly elegant even dressed in plaid pyjama bottoms and a cashmere sweater. He glances up quickly at the sound of your footsteps - you know he’s been listening out for them since the moment you clocked out - and the smile that breaks across his face is instantaneous. 
“There she is,” he says softly in greeting, and there’s a quiet thud as he closes the book sitting in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 
There’s no accusation in Loki’s voice, but you still inwardly cringe. You had needed a few minutes to compose yourself once your colleagues had filtered out, not wanting to alarm your fiance by arriving home teary and agitated, and now you’re home fifteen minutes later than usual, something you had hoped Loki wouldn’t notice. 
But it’s Loki. He notices everything. 
“Yeah. Sorry I’m so late.” You force the words out, hating how thin and strained your voice sounds even to your own ears. 
You want nothing more than to curl up beside him on the sofa - your safe space and your best friend - but your feet carry you through to the kitchen instead. It’s as though your brain refuses to allow you to seek comfort, like your day hasn’t been bad enough to warrant the feel of Loki’s arms around you. You’re desperate to run to him, to curl up like a child beside him and let him hold you because nothing bad can ever happen to you when you’re in his arms. 
Instead, you’re fumbling around the kitchen for a glass and a bottle of wine, vision blurry with tears that you won’t permit to fall. 
You curse when the bottle hits the glass and almost topples it on the granite counter. You brush tears away with one hand while the other shakily pours the pink liquid into the glass until it’s three quarters full.
It’s then that you feel two gentle hands on your hips.
“Hey.” Loki’s voice is soft and soothing against the thunderstorm in your head, and you don’t fight as he cocoons you firmly in his embrace. “Bad day?” 
You lean your head back on his shoulder while he nuzzles your hair, unable to do anything but nod as the tears freely begin to flow down your face. Loki’s grip on you tightens and you feel him firmly press a kiss to your temple.
“Come here, dove,” he murmurs and easily turns you around in his arms. 
He holds you tightly against him and you finally let yourself drown in the comfort of him. You match your breathing to his and focus on the sound of his heartbeat thumping in your ear. This man, this beautiful, wonderful man, loves you - it’s one thing that he’s never made you doubt, and one thing that brings you a modicum of peace at the end of an unbearable day. 
Loki kisses the crown of your head and slowly starts to rock you both side to side. “I am in awe of you, my darling. Day after day you deal with softheaded fools with nothing but patience and grace. If it were me I’d run them through where they stand.”
You sniffle against his chest, to which he gives you a gentle squeeze. “HR said I’m not allowed to stab anyone,” you answer, feeling a tiny bit lighter now you’re with Loki. 
He clicks his tongue in disapproval, but you feel his smile against your forehead. “A senseless rule if you ask me.” He lapses into a comfortable silence once again, moving a hand to cradle the back of your head against his chest.
The problems of the day haven’t gone away - you know they’ll still be waiting for you once Monday comes back around - but they grow smaller with every minute you spend in Loki’s embrace. 
“I love you, my extraordinary little mortal,” he whispers into your hair, and then gently untangles himself from you. 
You whine quietly at the loss of his warmth, but he’s quick to rest a large hand reassuringly on your hip. His thumb strokes your side through the material of your top while he reaches for the wine glass still sitting atop the counter. 
“Make a start on this while I run us a bath,” he says, placing the glass securely in your hands. 
“That sounds perfect,” you reply thickly, brushing away the tears that are still falling down your cheeks. 
Loki smiles that soft smile that’s only for you and cups your cheek in his hand. “Darling thing,” he murmurs softly and leans down to kiss you slowly. “Sit,” he then nods to the sofa, “and I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 
There’s nothing but devotion in his voice and in his touch as he absently traces his fingers along your arm. Usually, you’d fight him if he tried to wait on you too much, arguing that it isn’t fair, but tonight you’ll gladly let him take care of you. 
You curl up on the sofa in the spot that Loki has left warm and listen to the calming sound of running water from the bathroom. You listen as the man you love more than life itself prepares to adore and dote on you. 
Everything would work out okay.
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sturncrazy · 9 months
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SPLASH
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
warnings: SMUT nsfw 18+(um lang, y/n receiving, unprotected, cream pie —assume ur on bc—-semi public/sneaky, nothing too crazy)
authors note: AW ITS KINDA CUTE GUYS. here’s the other matty poo idea i had since y’all seem to eat him up always hehe.
summary: you join some of your friends on a trip to get over a breakup and end up having a heart to heart talk during a late night swim with matt….but talkings not all you end up doing…
word count: 3,431w
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“hey y/n get your suit on! we’re gonna swim!” nick said, peering in through your half opened door.
“mkay” you nodded back, forcing a smile. it’d been a split second decision to force yourself to join your friends on this trip. Nick had suggested you come to try and get your mind off of things. you and your boyfriend had broken up only 2 weeks ago, after you found him cheating on you. it’d been a long time coming and had almost never been a good relationship, but a breakup is a breakup and you were still reeling from it. you pulled out a stringy bikini, then threw an oversized t shirt on top. the house you were staying at was large and out in the middle of nowhere. the pool was a significant distance behind the house which gave it a cool secluded feel during the day, but at night the walk alone was a little eerie. you fears washed away though as you got close enough to see your friends splashing around and their laughter became audible, only lit by the purple pools lights. it brought a smile to your face and you felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while. you and your friends hung around together for a couple hours, getting late into the night when chris decided he was hungry and needed a snack. the nearest convenience store was about 20 minutes away and would be closing soon so chris and the 3 of others decided to do a junk food run, leaving just you and matt. matt had been your friend since 7th grade, but the two of you hadn’t gotten to hang out as much in the last year cause he made your ex so nervous. he was always convinced you had feelings for matt. at one point he might’ve not been wrong, but you’d never tell a soul that.
“ok last chance guys! you want anything?” nick shouted as the others ran back towards the house.
“skittles!” said matt
“oo can you get me some twizzlers?”
“yup!” nick said running off
“think he listened?” matt said wading through the water to the edge where you were sitting, dangling your feet in.
“oh definitely not” you laughed
“you should come in the water! it’s really warm”
“but then when i get back out i’ll be cold” the outside air had dropped enough to feel the slightest of chill of fall.
“so? you can borrow my sweater if you want” said matt sweetly, always a gentleman
“come on! have some fun!” he teased splashing only enough to spray a few droplets on your thighs. you could never say no to him. you stood up and pulled your tshirt over your head. matt looked up at you, his mouth slightly ajar, before he quickly glanced away. you figured he’d zoned out. you cannonballed in, intentionally hitting matt with a wave of water.
“asshole” he laughed, splashing you as you came back up for air. you grinned at him and shook the wet hair out of your eyes and paddled to sit on the pools steps. matt joined and sat next to you. he leaned his arms against the the pools edge, the water only coming up to his mid stomach. you stole a glance at his toned torso and arms, tattoos glistening from the water. his eyes darted back to yours and he gave you a half smile.
“hey, you been okay? i didn’t wanna pry, but i head about the breakup” he said with concern
“oh…yeah. i’m okay i guess” you sighed
“he’s a real dick, y/n. i mean really. such an asshole. i wanted to kill him” you snorted
“you and me both” matt was on a roll in his rant and barely seemed to notice your comment
“i mean he has some fucking nerve treating you like that. you deserve like the best of the best and the fact that he didn’t didn’t see that—“
“aww matt” a warm fuzzy feeling spread over your skin at his words. he snapped back into remembering your presence and gave you a bashful look.
“i just think you deserve someone who treats you right. so good riddance to him” he said, splashing at an invisible presence off in the distance, trying to play cool. it was an adorably dorky move.
“thank you, matty” you said softly. he paused, and looked you intensely in the eyes.
“yeah always” he breathed out. the tension hung thickly in the night air. you turned your face away from his, hoping it would dissipate.
“and not that it matters, but i remember back in middle school when everyone was playing truth or dare, all the girls made fun of him for being a bad kisser” matt said, attempting to lighten the mood. it worked and you let out a laugh.
“yeah trust me, kissing wasn’t the only thing he was bad at”
“oooooo really” matt said grimacing. you nodded and dramatically shivered at the thought.
“yeah, honestly, don’t think there was a single time i wasn’t on top doing all the work. he’d sorta just lie there…like a corpse. and y’know…second he was done that was that. maybe 2 minutes each time.” matt’s jaw dropped
“whaaaat” you laughed as you glanced at your hands under the water, feeling nervous about talking about this with matt.
“that’s crazy. half the fun of sex watching the other person enjoy it” you felt your face flush as you raised your eyebrows at him
“what?” he chuckled back at your surprise
“nothing, i’ve just never heard you talk like that before” matt rolled his eyes playfully
“yeah well much to your surprise i have had sex before, y/n”
“well i know that…”
“just didn’t think i’d be good at it” he cut you off, teasingly. your face turned from flush to beat red, making you thankful for the dim lighting.
“hey, i wouldn’t be one to judge” you shrugged out, suddenly feeling painfully aware of your lack in experience.
“what do you mean?” matt questioned
“just…he was the only person i ever…y’know” you sheepishly avoided the words.
“had sex with?” matt filled in for you. you nodded and scrunched your face. he studied you for a minute.
“so you’ve never had good sex?” he asked, quietly. you felt so exposed you might as well have been naked.
“‘guess not” you mumbled avoiding is unwavering gaze.
“have to wait around for the next boy” you snickered to yourself
“isn’t that a bit of a gamble?”
“well what are my other options i mean youre the only guy i know who probably any good at sex—“ matt’s eyes widened. you slapped your hand over your mouth, panic beginning to settle in.
“oh my god—sorry—i—that came out wrong—i didn’t mean like you and me—like you need to show me—shit” matt just continued to look at you, his eyes burning holes into your skull. you buried your face in your pruning hands.
“well, why not” matt rasped out. you peaked through your fingers at him, his expression looked blank, but his chest rose rapidly, nervously. you dropped you hands.
“what” you almost whispered. he took a steadying breath.
“i said why not.” you tried to breath, but no air seemed to be available.
“what do you mean” matt gnawed at his lip before speaking again.
“i mean that you deserve to only feel amazing and i don’t want you to go around experimenting with more assholes and—“
“matt, i’m not gonna let you have pity sex with me” you scoffed out, embarrassment itching your whole body.
“that’s not what i meant y/n” he said in a hushed voice. you continued to babble over him.
“i mean i know you’re the nicest guy ever, but come on even you have to know you don’t have to fuck me to protect me from other bad guys—“
“i dont want you to fuck other guys at all” he sounded exasperated. you gave him a lost look. he exhaled, looking up at the sky for invisible answers.
“you don’t?” he looked back into your eyes, you felt like your heart could melt.
“of course not, y/n” your heart raced.
“okay” he furrowed his brow
“okay what?”
“okay yeah— i mean let’s—“ you inhaled, pulling yourself together and met his gazed
“i want you to show me” his chest rattled again.
“yeah?” he breathed out. you nodded, rapidly. he moved closer to you, your faces now inches apart. his eyes darted down to your lips. he smiled, and looked back up into yours, as one hand gently wrapped around your waist.
“okay” he rasped out as he brushed his nose against yours. he seemed to revel in the tension between you, before bringing his soft warm lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, but still delicate. it sent electricity through your chest and down to your fingertips. he brought his other hand up to your check and jaw, molding your faces together even more. matt pulledl his lips away from yours momentarily to whisper out
“you can touch me, y/n” you only then realized your arms had been cluelessly frozen by your sides. you eagerly brought them up around matt’s neck, immediately changing the tone of the kissing to something much more heated. he let out a sharp breath into your mouth before moving to come between your legs, both hands now grasping your waist. he pulled you closer and you wrapped your legs around his body, gripping into his hair. he let out a small groan against your lips and squeezed at your flesh in his hands. you sighed out at the feeling, opening your mouth against his which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. your mouths locked together perfectly, as your hands begin to move from his hair to explore his chest, your fingertips roaming the skin of his body you’d only ever dreamed of getting to touch. you lowered your nails to just beneath his bellybutton, which elicited a genuine moan from him. you smiled against his mouth
“where did you learn that” he grumbled
“i have have a couple tricks” you said coly
“oh yeah?” he said between soft quick kisses
“so do i” he bit down lightly on your bottom lip, pulling with his teeth as he brought your hips up against his. you whined feeling him press against your bikini bottoms. he chuckled at your pathetic reaction and pushed your hair back from your neck. he lowered his lips down to the sensitive newly exposed skin and began to sloppily kiss a trail from your jaw to your collarbone, then began sucking and biting at your flesh.
“fuck” you moaned out, your eyes rolling back. you grasped at his taught upper arms.
“you like that?” he groaned against your skin, setting it ablaze with vibrations.
“yes” you sighed out, bucking your hips slightly against his, desperate for more than just the grazing pressure of him standing against you. he seemed to understand your every need and hooked his fingers through the flimsy ties of your bikini and pulled you harshly against him. you felt a hardness in his shorts pressing against your core and your mouth practically watered. his hands trailed back up your body and to your back where your top tied together.
“this okay” you nodded and pulled him back in against your mouth, not wanting to waste a moment for words away from his lips. he expertly untied the knots and slipped the clinging wet fabric of your chest, leaving your boobs exposed to the outside air. he tossed the fabric on the ground behind you as he looked down at your heaving chest.
“god” he groaned out, his eyes widening as he brought his hands to your boobs and pawed at the the soft flesh. he ran his thumbs delicately across your nipples watching you, as you tossed your head back in a moan. he slipped his hands behind your back again, bringing your bare skin flush against his
“you’re so beautiful” he huffed against your lips. you began to rock yourself back and forth against his blatantly obvious hard on, desperate to build some friction. he wrapped one arm around your thigh and lifted you up to the top dry step of the pool, completely taking you out of the water except for your calves. matt lowered himself down to his knees a few steps bellow you, and began to kiss your knees and inner thighs. your legs quivered, as your core ached for attention. his wide blue eyes looked up at you, his mouth only inches away from where you needed him most, as his fingers hooked to the sides of your swimsuit.
“can i?” he mumbled against your skin.
“please” you whined out. he pulled at the loose bows, undoing the flimsy cover easily. you lifted your hips for him to slide the fabric from between your legs. he parted your legs with his hands, his pupils dilating to blackness as he took in the sight of you entirely exposed.
“so perfect” he sighed almost in a trance
“matt—“ you whined desperate and impatient. he looked back up at you with a half smile
“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you feel so good” his words alone could’ve made you come undone. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he brought his warm wet mouth against your aching clit. he gently kissed at the bundle of nerves, making you thrust your hips up against his face hungry for more. he responded by beginning to drag his tongue in painfully slow circles around your clit.
“oh god—matt-“ you cried out, your fingers latching into his hair for support. he groaned against your sensitive bud.
“y’taste so good” your thighs squeezed his face as he began to move his tongue faster, flicking it it circles around your clit.
“oh fuck— that feels so good—“ you exhaled. one of his arms loosed it’s grip
as he brought his fingertips down to meet your folds. he broke his tongue away from your clit and rested his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh as his watched his own fingers drag up and down your dripping folds. you whined in torture and he brought his pointer and middle finger to your entrance pressing small torturous pulses against it, but not entering or giving you the fullness you needed. you were a mess at his touch, whining, moaning, and thrashing around, but he seemed to savor every minute of watching you. finally, he slipped his finger into your core and you cried out at the feeling.
“so pretty” he whispered again before starting to pump his digits in and out of you over and over, his fingers curving up expertly. the tension in your stomach began to form almost immediately. matt needed no clues in knowing what you needed and lowered his tongue back to your clit. your walls began to pulse around his fingers. you knew you were close.
“oh god—matt-i—“ you began to stutter out
“good girl. cum for me” he cooed. you fell apart with his permission and came undone. your legs stuttered as your high began to end and matt slipped his fingers out of you. he lifted himself back up to your level, leaning against the ledge behind you and kissing you again.
“see how good you taste” he said against your lips
“matt” you giggled slightly shocked against him, starting to close your legs. his grip latched back down on your thighs, stopping you.
“oh i’m not done with you yet” he growled through a slight smile, as he hoisted you up into the air. your wrapped your legs around him, as he carried you away from the pool to a nearby lounge chair. he laid you down on your back and climbed on top of you, between your legs. he pressed his still covered crotch against your exposed vulnerable entrance. you hissed, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. he stopped and pulled back from you
“you okay?”
“yes just sensitive” you let out a breathy laugh
“do you want to stop” the overwhelming look of concern in his eyes was adorable
“are you kidding me?” you said, wrapping your legs around him tightly, bringing him back down on top of you.
“thank god” he exhaled. you laughed as you began to kiss him again, rolling your hips up against him. he whimpered. you dragged your fingernails up his back and dug in slightly at his shoulders. he groaned again. the sound of him wanting you was enough to make you desperate all over. you continued to run your fingernails down his chest and to his waistband, snapping the elastic against his skin slightly. his stomach tensing at the feeling.
“take these off, matty” you whined.
“whatever you want” he pulled off from you and stood to the side, sliding off the shorts.
his rock hard dick sprung out free from the fabric and slapped against his stomach. your jaw opened slightly as your eyes took in the impressive size of him in front of you.
“what?” he chuckled
“youre so big” you said in genuine awe
“fuck you don’t know what you’re doing to me” he said, climbing back on top of you and needily yanking your legs up around him. the tip of his hard member rubbed against your clit as he continued to grind his hips against yours through your makeout.
“matt—“ you whined again, needing more.
“you sure you want to do this?” he asked looking into your eyes.
“yes matt—i want you so bad” you moaned to him
“fuck i’m all yours, baby” he said kissing you again, as he began to align himself with your entrance. he pushed himself inside you slowly and shuddered against you once he was all the way deep into your core. he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the extreme stretch before beginning to slowly thrust in and out and in and out of your pussy. the stretch and fullness of him made you cry out sounds like you’d never made before.
“fuck you feel so good. such a perfect tight little pussy” he huffed out between his calculated thrusts.
“oh god matt”
“taking me so well baby” he cooed
“shitt-feel so good inside me, matty”
“yeah? you like when i fuck you like this, huh baby?” he breathed against your ear, burying his head into your neck.
“so fucking much—oh god yes—faster”
“okay beautiful” he began to pick up the pace of his steady thrusts and you thought you’d see stars. each thrust of his dick equally hard and timed out as he slammed against your g spot. you clawed at his back desperately, which only seemed to encourage him to pick up his pace to an impossibly faster speed. you slurred out curses in between pornographic moans as your mind became a total blur. you could feel your second orgasm approaching.
“OHHH FUCK MATT YES”
“fuck you sound so good moaning my name like that y/n”
“MATT OH GOD IM GONNA”
“you gonna cum for me again, baby?”
“YES OH MY FUCK”
“be a good girl and cum all over my dick” your eyes blurred with tears of pleasure as your ears buzzed and your second orgasm took control of your body. matt let out an uneven moan as your walls rapidly pulsed around his cock.
“fuck—squeezing me so good—shit—i’m close—“
“mmmm” was all you managed to moan in response as he began to trust into you wildly and unsteadyily
“oh my fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“cum matt—i wanna feel you cum” you panted
“OHH MY OH FUCK FUCK IM GONNA CUM NGHH IM CUMMING” the groaned out as he halted his thrusts deep inside you, shooting hot white ropes of his release into your throbbing core. he collapsed breathless on top of you. after a moment matt pulled himself off your chest and propped himself up by his forearms.
“have any fun?” he asked sheepishly
“are you KIDDING ME? holy SHIT” you said in total honestly
“not half bad right?” he laughed, reaching for his shorts.
“unreal” he handed you his sweater and leaned back down to kiss you again, but pulled away abruptly
“sorry—was that weird? i don’t wanna make you feel pressured—“ you wrapped your arms around his neck shutting him up with another kiss
“good luck if you think your getting away from me now”
“i wouldn’t dream of it”
—————————————————————————live for sweet matt smut always 🫶
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nhoirr · 8 months
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It was the year of spring when you got the most lamest confession you've ever heard.
all from a man you'd never expect—nobody ever did expect that GOJO SATORU had the time and capacity to fall in love.
what a surprise, because he was too.
"go out with me," he states more than questioning.
like a giddy normal teenager that was not the most handsome man in the world—the, gojo satoru asked you out.
infront of everyone; without shame, oh but full of smugness that makes you want to reject him just to see his pride fall.
but perhaps the from shocking event did the thought not come to you that day, not when the pressure was all time high.
"This.." you start and the crowd quivers in their boots, boys and girls alike already demanding their victory from the bet, "this is what you greet me with after ignoring me for weeks, satoru?" the said man stiffens with his posture, and as if the bouquet of flowers he held felt the shift of the atmosphere—it dramatically wilted.
"oh, c'mon that was just—" he knew reasoning was futile when he gulps the words down his throat again, catching the way you glare.
and you spin your heel around. guessing with how he hangs his head low, you think he's discouraged enough to let it go and take the rejection.
but the man you knew was always so annoying, so stubborn.
you hear a call of your name but you don't snap your head like your-all-time-secret-is-out kind of surprise, but it's because the dumbest man spoke the dumbest words you've ever heard.
"I, the heir of the gojo clan, am insanely inlove with you!"
the crowd goes eerily silent, like time was frozen but not in a romantic way. It was embarrassingly awkward that you could hear the sound of a pin drop.
"what?" you spat out in disbelief, not comprehending his words and he takes it as another sign to repeat himself to you.
"I lik—" you stop him from talking by slapping a hand to his mouth, glowing eyes shimmering with the brightest smile known to man, "yes yes, don't repeat yourself!" you exclaim almost immediately.
your breath hitches in your throat the moment you feel his hand grasp your wrist, the one that covered his mouth and he points a finger to speak, muffled by your hand, "dso yu asekpt?" you could faintly make out the words he said—do you accept?
it syncs with the voice echoing at the back of your head ever since he confessed.
and yet, the answer always remained the same.
so you drop your hand from his mouth, catching the way his eyes follow your every move—perhaps enough to notice the hesitation, and he worries for the words you'll speak with such an expression.
quickly he starts before you speak, "Its fi—"
"I like you," he gets cut off, jaw slacked and unmoving in shock.
he blinks once or twice, but the crowd reacts before he can, waking him enough to respond back.
with a lopsided grin and dusted cheeks, he speaks again too—he thinks could be lost to the noise of the crowd, but with how close you were, he thinks you'll be able to hear even a whisper.
"I like you too."
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©nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!
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thanks for tuning in for another episodic brain riot of mine that goes no where!
want more? check out navigation for latest posts. <33 (shameless self-plug because.)
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andreawritesit · 3 months
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can i request cregan and targ reader where he gets her a wolf and its all sweet and stuff ❤️
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Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen Reader
Synopsis: You had been living in the North for quite a while now but nothing felt quite as welcoming as receiving a warm bundle of joy as a present.
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It was not morning yet. Or perhaps it was. Wrapped in the dark grey clouds, the sun often played hide and seek in the Northern skies. It was difficult to tell what time of the day it was. You got out of bed and immediately, the sudden chill enveloped your entire body, down to your bones. Quickly grabbing the fur blanket from the bed, you wrapped it tightly around yourself. The cold was your worst enemy, your soul was forged out of fire after all. Even after an entire month, you still couldn't understand why your mother would betroth you to a Northern lord. You were the same girl on the side of whose bed she had spent countless nights awake. As soon as the weather became colder, you'd catch a fever. Throughout your childhood and even now, in your adolescent years, Rhaenyra has been on her toes constantly because of how the cold affected you. And yet she had sent you to marry Lord Cregan Stark. Why? That's not to say that your betrothed wasn't the most respectable man you had ever met. Cregan was cold and stoic as Northerners tend to be, but he was also honorable and extremely kind to you. As soon as you had arrived at Winterfell on dragonback, he had done all he could to make sure you were comfortable. He made sure you got plenty of warm clothes and furs and despite being the lord of Winterfell, he came to your chambers every day to see if you needed anything.
You had both decided that you would marry only after the war was over. He didn't want to tie you to himself knowing very well that he could die in the war and leave you by yourself. And you didn't want to marry him so soon either because you still wanted to partake in your mother's efforts to get her throne back from the usurpers.
You walked to the window and looked outside. Everything was covered in pristine white snow. It was so different from Dragonstone and Kings Landing. Instead of the hustle and bustle of the South, there was a calming silence in the North. Soon enough, the sun's rays began to pierce through the dense clouds, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered landscape. You couldn't help but smile at the view outside. The tranquility was suddenly broken by a soft knock at the door.
"Come in", you called, walking away from the window.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing the Lord of Winterfell. His tall and imposing figure was contrasted by a warm smile on his face, a sight you had come to cherish over the past month.
"Good morning Princess. I hope I didn't disturb your rest."
You shook your head, "Not at all, my Lord. I was already up." Your eyes went to a bundle of blankets in his arms. "What brings you here so early?"
Cregan's smile widened as he walked to where you were standing. "I come bearing a gift for you, my Princess." He stepped closer, revealing a small, furry creature nestled in the crook of his arm. "I hope this will make your stay here easier. He's a wonderful companion." He removed the top blanket a little and a small head peeked out.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "A dire wolf pup?" you breathed out as you reached to gently stroke his fur. "He's so precious and small."
"One of the she-wolves gave birth to many pups this morning. When I saw this one, I knew I had to give him to you." The dire wolf pup, with its striking blue eyes and white fur, nuzzled into your touch, eliciting a soft laugh out of you. "Here, hold him", Cregan whispered as he softly passed the pup into your arms. You cradled him close and looked up at Cregan, your heart swelling with affection.
"Thank you. He's perfect."
"Much like you", he said while stroking the pup's head gently.
"Is that why you brought him to me? Because he's perfect like me? Or was there any other reason?"
Cregan let out a small chuckle at your words. "It's one of many reasons I decided to gift this one to you. You see, just minutes after being born, he was already jumping around and causing mayhem in the yard. Reminded me of you and your dragon quite a lot."
You punched his arm lightly and a laugh left your lips. The pup nuzzled your neck and you couldn't help but giggle. Cregan's gaze softened as he watched you bond with the dire wolf. "He's strong and brave, much like you," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "I thought he could be a symbol of the North's acceptance of you."
You felt a rush of gratitude and warmth, not just from the direwolf but from Cregan's thoughtful gesture. He had once again won you over, something that had happened quite a few times already.
"I know it's not easy for you to settle down here in the North. But I'm grateful that you're trying and I promise you, I will take care of you. I will make sure you won't have to miss the warmth of your home. Winterfell will be your abode one day and I hope I will become your family, someone you'll be able to trust and perhaps even love one day."
You shifted the pup into your right arm and held Cregan's hand with your left hand. "You have no idea how much you have already done for me. When I first came here, I was a scared little girl who was being separated from her family but now I feel like I was always meant to be here, with you. I can assure you that I will also do everything I can to be there for you. I am ready, to accept Winterfell as my home and you as my husband."
Cregan's expression softened, and he squeezed your hand lightly. "I'm glad to hear that," he said sincerely. "I'm glad you came here."
"Me too."
Suddenly, the pup stirred, letting out a small, contented yawn. You and Cregan both laughed softly. The moment was broken but no less sweet. "I suppose he's tired", Cregan whispered as he covered the pup with a small blanket.
"Have you named him yet, my Lord?"
He shook his head, "No. He's your companion. You should name him."
You took a long look at the white fluffy ball of fur in your arms. "I'll name him Winter," you decided, looking up at Cregan with a smile. "To remind me of the kindness and strength of the North."
"Winter it is, then," he said. "May he bring you joy and protect you always."
Your heart swelled with emotion as you held Winter close. "He already has," you replied, your gaze locked with Cregan's. "Thank you, Cregan."
In that moment, the chill of the North transformed into the warmth of new companionship and a realization that perhaps your feelings for the Northern Lord had evolved into something deeper.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo. 
it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.
he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this. 
“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.
“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”
“how do you mean?”
“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.” 
he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”
“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”
he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?” 
you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”
reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.
when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.
“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–” 
he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.” 
“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.” 
he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant. 
_____
monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers. 
which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star. 
he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response. 
“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.” 
he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”
he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.” 
“did you come to buy her more flowers?”
“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.” 
you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?” 
“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.” 
oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.” 
you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”
_____
reo is running out of places to put his flowers. 
they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day. 
what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.  
but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice. 
you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours. 
when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’
they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy. 
“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him. 
and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.
_____
“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.” 
you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”
he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”
“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”
he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”
he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…
“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”
“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.” 
“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”
he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”
“everything?” you echo. 
he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”
“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.” 
“you’re whoring me out for business?” 
“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter. 
he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”
you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”
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joelslastofus · 2 months
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[SUMMARY: Sarah’s out of town and calls for her father to pick you up at the bar. While drunk and feeling lonely you say things to your best friend’s father that only make it hard for him to resist you.
Teasing, age difference, masturbation
“That was of course the main secret…you had no idea just how much you aroused him. You had no idea you left him with an ache that he knew he couldn’t fulfill…not with you being Sarah’s friend. “
It was one in the morning on a Saturday night and Joel found himself dozing off on the couch until a call from his daughter woke him up.
“Sarah, what’s the matter?” He sat forward not expecting a call from Sarah so late.
“I’m sorry to bother, I know it’s late. It’s y/n”
“What is it?” He asked.
“She’s super drunk and she thought I was in town and asked me for a ride, I’d call a cab for her but she sounds really out of it. Can you please just pick her up, just let her sleep it off in my room”
“Of course, baby” he stood up and grabbed his keys as his daughter instructed him on where to find you.
Once arriving Joel noticed you out front talking to a man by yourself. Pulling up a few feet away from you, the car screeched as he quickly got out and walked towards you.
“Mr…Miller?” You looked at him confused as he approached you giving the man you spoke to a threatening look.
“Come on, let’s go”
“I was just about to give her a ride home” the man insisted with a beer in hand.
“No need for that, you can leave”
“Mr. Miller….what are you doing…here?” You began to giggle leaning back against the wall. Joel had never seen you this way before, a dress, thigh high tights with heels that you were struggling to balance on while clearly very heavily intoxicated.
“I’m takin’ ya home”
“Oh but I don’t…I don’t wanna go home yet. I was just making a friend…” you grinned.
“Come on, it’s time to go” he took hold of your hand as you stumbled to the side.
“I can take her home man, trust me” the guy insisted as Joel looked at him directly in the eye without letting you go.
“I got about two seconds left in me before ya really piss me off so I suggest you get on outta here” the guy took a step back eventually leaving as you sighed.
“Oh no….whys he leaving?” Joel could tell you were going to give him a hard time and took a deep breath.
“Sorry honey” he whispered before unexpectedly throwing you over his shoulder. You squealed kicking your legs as he held you tightly walking back to his truck.
“What are you doing?!” You yelled as he sat you down in the passenger seat and put the seatbelt over your chest.
“I’m gettin you home” he whispered slightly irritated. Not fighting it you watched as he clicked the belt in and closed the door. His cellphone ringing as he made his way around to the drivers seat.
“Yeah, baby I got her” Joel answered seeing it was Sarah. You looked up hearing him talk as he started the car.
“Where’s Sarah?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes realizing he was speaking to her.
“She’ll be back in the mornin’” Joel responded still holding the phone to his ear.
“I think your dad’s pissed at me” you spoke loud enough for Sarah to hear.
“Sorry dad, she never drinks this much, I guess she was just very upset her boyfriend broke up with her” Sarah sighed.
“It’s alright, I’ll get her home. She’ll be fine” he assured her before driving off.
“You’re soooo mad at me” you spoke softly with your eyes half closed.
“No, honey I ain’t” he responded without looking your way.
Once Joel pulled up into his driveway he looked over at you to see you were asleep.
Picking you up in his arms he bought you inside laying you on the couch so he could prep the room. Once he lay you down you mumbled something in your sleep that he couldn’t understand before opening your eyes.
“What time is it?” You pushed yourself up turning towards him barely balancing yourself.
“Its about to be two”
“Two? I gotta get home-“ you tried to stand up before he quickly sat you back down.
“No, honey you’re stayin’ here tonight. Lay down” your eyes half open as you leaned back and noticed you still had your heels on.
“My shoes…”
“I got em” Joel got down on one knee as he took off the straps sliding each shoe off your foot and placing them aside.
“I hate men…men are such…assholes” you suddenly spoke with your eyes closed. Joel looked up at you silently before your eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry..my stupid…ex left me for some other girl and-“ you raised your brows as you lost train of thought.
“Mr.Miller…” you sighed as you swayed your head from left to right. Your mind not making sense as you thought of how low your ex made you feel.
“Can I ask you something…?” He raised a brow curiously.
“Sure”
“Do you…do you think I’m pretty…?” Your question catching him off guard.
“Honey, I think you need to get some rest-“
“Can you just answer the question” you blurt out. Desperate for anything to make you feel better after being rejected by a man you had loved for four years.
“Course I do” he whispered. You gave him a lazy smile pleased with his response. Of course he thought you were pretty, he always did. Looking down you realized your stockings had rolled down and sighed. Attempting to lean forward to fix them you almost fell towards him until he caught you.
“I got cha” he whispered with his hands on your arms.
“My stockings…I’m trying to fix-“
“I got em, sit still” you leaned back as he propped your foot on his leg. Joels eyes quickly roamed up your legs as you sat before him until he caught himself and cleared his throat. You watched as he lifted the stocking back in place but stopped before your knee.
“They go higher…” of course he knew they went higher but that meant his hands would move further up your legs and he couldn’t have that…not with the feelings he was beginning to have. Feelings he knew he couldn’t have towards his daughter’s friend, it wasn’t appropriate. The thought of his hand coming so close to your-
“Mr.Miller?” He looked up at you with his big brown eyes realizing once again where his mind was drifting off to.
“Hm?” He responded with your foot still on him.
“Can you…can you put them higher?” You asked softly.
Why the hell did you need them higher for? You were only making this harder for him. Taking a deep breath he slowly slid them up to your thighs. You looked down and watched as his hands brushed along your inner thigh making his body tense.
“You have…you have big hands” you whispered as he proceeded to fix the next one. The feel of his hands touching your thighs, you found yourself getting aroused. His eyes focused on where his hands moved as a soft moan escaped your lips making him look up. His heart practically beating out of his chest as he watched your hips slightly squirm moving close against him.
“Mr.Miller?” You murmured.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Mhm” he held his breath, your leg still on his.
“So you don’t think there’s anything wrong with me..?”
“Not at all” he whispered anxiously awaiting what you had to say. Your eyes struggling to stay open, your words still slurring as you spoke.
“So….if I asked you to…would you fuck me…?”
He froze, speaking your drunken thoughts loudly you didn’t think twice.
“Would you…?” You began to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulder.
“Don’t” he quickly stopped your hand from pulling your straps any further.
“Why…?” You pushed yourself up towards him, barely able to balance your body he held you by your waist keeping you still. Your eyes struggling to stay open as your hands fell on his shoulders slowly moving to his chest.
“Why don’t you wanna fuck me…?”You whispered with a slight frown.
“Just this one time….please…I’m so wet right now..” His jaw clenching as he felt you tug at his shirt, the ache he began to feel throbbing in his pants becoming too much to bear.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed” he abruptly stood up and picked you up as you mumbled things he couldn’t understand drifting in and out of sleep. Drunk wasn’t the word, he wondered if you’d remember any of this in the morning. A part of him hoping you would.
Laying you down, he watched you turn towards the wall falling into a deeper sleep.
Slowly he pulled a blanket over you before taking a step back. Rubbing his face he tried to snap himself out of the thoughts you put in his mind. Thoughts that he knew couldn’t happen as aroused as they may have made him. His phone suddenly buzzing distracting him when he noticed his daughter was calling.
“Hey, she in bed?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s asleep” he assured her.
“Was she crying? Or talking your ear off?” She chuckled.
“No no, she uh, went straight to sleep” he responded as if you hadn’t just been asking him to fuck you giving him a massive hard on.
“Oh good, so I’ll be there around eight. See you soon, thanks and goodnight dad”
“Goodnight baby” he clicked his phone off and took a deep breath.
He could barely walk with how hard you left him, he hoped a cold shower would help him as he began to run the water.
Standing in the shower he let the cold water fall over him but nothing seemed to help. His cock was solid as he struggled to stop thinking about the way you practically begged for him.
“Just this one time..” he could hear your voice in his head repeatedly. Unable to help himself any longer he began to stroke himself, picturing you taking in every inch of him. Begging for more and more until you couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes rolling back as his hand moved faster, his body leaned sideways against the wall, he knew he was about to explode. After how long he held himself he couldn’t control it any longer. Balancing himself with one hand on the wall in front of him, he leaned over as he came heavily..
“Holy fuck” he breathed deeply, stroking himself slowly. The cold shower refreshing him as he took a step back and let the water wash over him.
The next day you woke up to a pounding headache and slight nausea.
“I’m never drinking again” you grumbled rubbing your head before you began to look around and noticed where you were.
“Sarah?” You looked to the other side of the room to see you were alone.
“Shit” you sighed, you forgot she had left town a few days ago which only meant her father had bought you here. Struggling to understand how that even came to be you began to get little flashbacks of the night before. His large hands rolling up your stockings you covered your lips in shock with yourself when you remembered something you said.
Did you say it? Or did you just think it?
“Jesus Christ” you whispered rubbing your forehead.
Slowly opening Sarah’s bedroom door tip toed to the bathroom before Joel could see you. Freshening yourself up you looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath. The cold water touching your skin slightly relieving a bit of your headache before you walked out.
Walking to the kitchen you could see Joel with his back to you reading something on the counter. Unsure of what to say you hesitated to walk towards him when he turned around.
“Hi” you whispered awkwardly as he stared at you at the doorway.
“Mornin’” he mumbled low, he wondered if you remembered anything from the night before.
“I um..-“ you took a few steps forward.
“Did Sarah ask you to bring me here?”
“Mhm. You were upset and drunk…she was worried. I found ya outside with some jackass tryna take ya home” you looked down a bit embarrassed.
“But I wasn’t gonna let that happen, I bought cha right back here like Sarah asked” he assured you as he took a couple steps forward.
“Look, I’m so sorry if I said anything-“ you looked up at him noticing how much closer he was. Eagerness in his eyes as he looked down at you holding back from all the things he truly wanted to say.
Just by the look he gave you, you knew what you remembered wasn’t a dream. Last night you were asking your best friends dad to fuck you, your realization leaving you speechless. You wondered if it had gone any further, you wondered what else was said.
“Did we-“
“No” he quickly cut in.
“I wouldn’t have allowed that in your state” he assured you but you could tell he wanted to say more. The tension between you two was something you couldn’t describe.
”What else did I say or do..?” You asked hesitantly. Joel stood silent for a moment, looking to the side he remembered how you attempted to pull your dress down, he remembered how you wrapped your arms around him, tugged at his shirt as you begged to have him inside you…but he didn’t dare admit it. He knew you were embarrassed enough to then go into detail on all the things that aroused him. That was of course the main secret…you had no idea just how much you aroused him. You had no idea you left him with an ache that he knew he couldn’t fulfill…not with you being Sarah’s friend.
“Mr.Miller?” Your voice distracting him from his thoughts making him look up.
“Did I say anything else?” You asked once again as his body language became tense.
“No” he turned away finding something to keep himself busy with in the kitchen. He could feel himself getting hard just thinking about last night and he needed you gone. Now.
“I didn’t expect for Sarah to call you nor did I even plan on drinking that much, I just..” your voice trailing off in the background as he fought the urge he felt.
“I just wanted to apologize” he suddenly slammed his fist down on the counter cutting you off. He couldn’t take it any longer.
“You need to leave” he blurt out without turning back to you
“Oh…I...” he left you speechless, never had he spoken to you this way, you hadn’t even realized he was pissed.
“I’m sorry Mr.Miller” you whispered before grabbing your belongings and quickly walking out. Joel felt guilty asking you to leave the way he did but he knew there was no other way out of this.
Fifteen minutes later Sarah walked in humming to herself expecting to see you.
Joel stood quietly in the kitchen taking a sip of his coffee.
“Hey, how’d you sleep? I was just about to give y/n a ride home” she began to walk towards her room as her father responded.
“She left” she stopped and turned to him with a raised brow.
“When?”
“Just now” he motioned towards the front door without looking at Sarah.
“Why would she leave? Why wouldn’t she wait for me?” Joel stood silent as Sarah walked towards her father in curiosity.
“Did she say anything-“
“Look” he suddenly looked directly into Sarah’s eyes.
“She’s not to come here for some time” his words confusing Sarah. She furrowed her brows dropping her bags.
“What? Why not? Did she do something”
“I don’t need you having that damn influence around ya” he struggled in finding an excuse turning away from her.
“What influence? You know she barely ever drinks, she’s never done this before-“
“Yeah well that’s where it starts and before ya know it you’ll be drunk at some bar with someone loser tryna take ya home” Joel hoped Sarah would drop it. There was no way he could admit the true reason he couldn’t take having you around. Sarah didn’t understand it, shaking her head she crossed her arms.
“Dad she’s my best friend, what am I suppose to tell her?” Joel suddenly turned to Sarah, his eyes looking for answers, wondering what to say.
“Tell her the truth, she’ll understand” he whispered before walking off to his room and slamming the door shut.
Joel frustratedly sat on the edge of his bed. He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he hoped the craving he had for you would eventually go away. It had to. He knew nothing could happen between you and him as much as he wanted it to yet his mind couldn’t stop pushing him, pushing him to a point of no return….
@l0veang3l @moonpascal @katmoonz @joelsteinfeld @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @mangoslushcrush @guelyury @mynameistokyo @katiemarieeee
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Dinner Time
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Summary: Reader makes Spencer his first homemade dinner after getting out of prison, and they both realize he's got some adjusting to do.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Content warnings: Eating, mentions of weight loss, hurt Spencer, ambiguous ending
Word count: 1k
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Spencer sat at the small table in your kitchen. You set it up with funky-patterned napkins, an extra big spoon, and a used candle lit in the middle; the whole shebang. You prepared his serving of your vegetable soup, the meal he requested to celebrate his arrival home. “Are you comfortable?” You ask as you hover over the stove.
He nods and picks up his napkin, observing the pattern and weight. “Where did you get these?”
“Your mom found them when we were shopping. She said they reminded her of your socks. Isn’t that sweet?”
He blew air through his nose before saying “Wow.” He rubbed his thumb along it, following the vivid stripes. You didn’t want to tell him how she teared up when she spotted them. How she held the set close to her chest made you feel sorry that she remembered without help.
“She took it as a sign you were coming home.” Half true. More like you convinced her it was. She asked you to buy them for that reason, to celebrate. “And now here we are.” You beamed as you say the words.
“That’s wonderful.” He looked up at you and smiled. You saw it in your peripheral as you opened a pack of oyster crackers. You knew he wanted to thank you for making time for her. He wanted to, but you insisted the thank yous were enough after he said it the fifth time in 24 hours. You flashed him a brief grin as a muted response, and he appreciated it.
“Alright,” You held the bowl carefully, mistakenly filling it to the brim. Due to the sheer joy of having him home, safe, and innocent (in the eyes of the law), you almost didn’t notice he had lost weight. The first time you saw his spine after getting out of the shower, you didn't even think it was possible for him. “Extra potatoes, per your request, mon amour.” You emphasize your terrible French accent which makes him chuckle.
“Merci, mon amour.” His flawless accent almost ruined the joke.
“Okay, show off, so happy you're home.” You sneered, and his smile was even wider. You grab your own bowl and sit by his side. His elbows somehow naturally find their way to the table, boxing in his soup like he was cornering prey. Spoon in hand, he dipped in the hefty bowl. Then he shoveled in some of those extra potato chunks with some tomato-y broth. Hungry, you thought, as he leaned over the bowl, steam gliding over his rough stubble. He took a second and third bite, despite his mouth being nearly stuffed.
You didn’t say anything at first. You didn’t want to imagine the food he had to eat or meals he might have skipped because of poor quality (or other reasons). As he chewed hastily, for a moment, it gave you hope he'd gain weight quickly.
But then he reached out for his water to drink like he needed to soothe something too spicy.
Or something too hot.
“Honey?”
Bite four, five, and six. He chewed.
“Spencer.”
“Hm?” Bite seven, eight —
You put a hand on his arm and Spencer’s head immediately turned to you. It made you pull back, not touch him. His face was red and his mouth hung open, similar to a dog sticking its tongue out to cool off. “Spencer. You can let it cool.”
He swallowed, not chewing enough, and it pained him. “I can’t. I want to finish before bed.” His tongue barely touched the roof of his mouth as he spoke.
“Are you that tired?”
“No.” His eyebrows furrowed at the question, looking just as confused as you. “We only have 30 minutes for dinn—” And somehow his face of realization was even more upsetting to witness. There's a silence, brief but heavy as his whole face fell and he covered his eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles.
“It’s not your fault.”
"I'll… take my time." He leans on his elbow and looks down at his meal, staring, waiting for the steam to stop. It was seconds later that his eyes were lined with tears again.
You were afraid to ask the question. “How’s your mouth?”
“It hurts.” He bites his lip as tears trickle.
You drop your spoon and scoot your chair closer to his. You ask him to sit up straight and drink water. Once he’s done that, drinking as much (or as little) as he can tolerate, you gently press his face into your shoulder. Tears collect on your skin, but you keep him close and encourage him to let it out.
And he does. His chest caves with every sob he's locked away for two months. His arms wrap around your waist, the first time he's touched you since he’s been home, apart from the delightfully suffocating hug you trapped each other in when he was released. And for a moment, you’re hit with the reality that the Spencer you’re holding has changed. His survival instincts are still active, you're just now noticing it.
You still hold him as he heaves. You rub his back to let him know you’re still here, but you stare at the blank wall in front of you. Your head is spinning, running through therapists to call and books to read that could help you. To help Spencer. Because that’s what he needs.
Spencer pulls away for a minute to look over his soup.
“It’s still there.” You say, and wipe his tears with your thumbs. “No one’s taking it, I promise.”
“It’s going to get cold.”
“I’ll heat it up again, don’t worry.”
Spencer looks down at you as you hold his face. The dark circles around his reddened eyes were prominent, and you brushed the mess of curls off his forehead. Tiredness isn’t enough. He’s scared. From what he’s seen or become, you don’t know. But his stubble pokes your skin and you realize that you don’t know what to do. As you look at the man you love, you wonder how much you can do to help. You hope you can help.
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bhaalble · 10 months
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Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.
Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".
Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.
Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...
Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.
And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?
You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.
For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.
Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?
Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.
But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.
All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.
From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.
What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.
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mydarlingclaudia · 1 month
Text
lucky boy
note : this came to me in a vision. mdni
wc : 940
tags : @lottiies
desc : poor boyfriend needs some early morning relief. smut!! - handjob. established relationship, fem!reader, re4r!Leon, not proofread.
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Leon's so lucky to have you.
A cute girl like you giving him the time of day? He must be God's favorite, or something like that. Well, maybe not, on account of the fact that he's at the government's beck and call. Leon does his best to keep you out of it, always trying his best to make up for his time away, and you welcome his apology dates and gifts with open arms, so long as you get Leon all to yourself later.
You've got him wrapped around your finger, and he's always liked your hands.
It's early in the morning, maybe three a.m., Leon came home at this exact time yesterday from some strenuous mission he didn't spare you any details on. He's tired, he always is when he comes home, can hardly well up any energy. Doesn't stop him from grinding against you in his sleep and getting a hard-on, though.
You'll never forget the tired whine in his voice when he gently shakes you awake after turning on the lamp beside him, oh-so sweetly asking if you can give him some relief. You can't say no to him, it's already enough to get your blood pumping.
You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto his back, his hands found yours, trailing up to your wrists and leaning up slightly for a kiss. One of his hands had moved up to cradle your jaw once you slipped your hand underneath his boxers, earning a soft groan from him, his hips immediately bucking against your hand before you had really even touched him. God, you love him.
You're sure if it was any other time of day and he was much less tired, he'd let you ride him, maybe even do the work himself. But for now, you just get to jerk off your half-asleep, pretty boyfriend, you can't complain.
You pull away from Leon's lips and smile as he chases after you, letting his head fall back against the pillow once you're too far away. He never stops staring, watching you through droopy eyelids as you run your hand up and down his erection.
"Miss me?" You whisper to him, wrapping your palm around him and giving him a few slow strokes.
"Obviously," He murmurs, not trying to give away to how needy he is, but his charade his given up by how quickly his chest rises and falls and how his hips stutter when he tries to meet you gentle thrusts.
"Good," You squeeze him, loving how sharply he inhales.
"H-hey..." Leon protests, "C'mon, come on, please?" Your only response is you letting go of him to peel his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from its confinement.
"Don't beg too much, I might get used to it." Leon closes his eyes once you wrap your fist around him again, continuing where you left off with your slow strokes. Whines bubble up in his throat once you start going the tiniest bit faster, his hand finding its way to the hem of your shirt in an attempt to pull you closer.
You always watch his face whenever the two of you are intimate, trying to figure out how much he likes what you're doing and also just to see how pretty he looks when his teeth sink into his lower lip, like right now. You've always been good at this, it's not that hard to do in the first place, plus, Leon isn't as stoic as he thinks he is when it comes to you pleasuring him.
It's delicious the way that he continues to grind against your hand, even though you're already giving him what he wants, picking up your speed because you love him.
"You have n-no idea how good your- ah- how good your ha-hand feels." Leon pants, you don't offer him a response, just continuing to jerk him off as you listen to him whine.
"Give you something better later today," You linger for a few seconds at the base of his cock, then at the tip to let yourself rub your thumb over his slit, smearing around the pre-cum that was beginning to pool there.
"Fuck. Yes, please."
"You always ask so nicely," You giggle, more to yourself than to him. "You know this is why I can never say no to you, right?"
"Mhm," Leon nods a tiny bit, his hand moving inside your shirt to grip the flesh of your hip. His eyes are screwed shut, chest heaving, the muscles in his stomach tensing constantly, he's close, you know it, you want it.
More pre-cum leaks out of his tip, you allow it to thinly coat your palm, giggling at the wet noises that follow with every stroke of your wrist.
"You wanna cum on my hand?" Slowing your movements once more, letting him buck into your fist while he nods his head.
Leon's teeth sink into his bottom lip again to muffle his groan as he cums a few seconds later, filling your fist with hot, sticky ropes of it. You pull your hand away and pull his boxer back up once he finally stills, wiping his release off onto various tissues you kept in your bedside table while he catches his breath. He sits up next to you, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you back down with him so he can snuggle back into your neck and press a few kisses to your skin.
"Thanks," He mumbles.
"No problem, you'd do the same for me." That makes him squeeze you tighter, he lets out a groan.
"Don't start,"
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