#day 7: why do you have a picture of me
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#something is very obviously different about these two compared to my normal images on this blog. i acknowledge this#also the sv model is Really good. and since they always stare straight at the camera anyway⊠and no one pays attention to the backgroundâŠ#and the only high-quality phantump model i could find was so horribly shiny that its eyes were just white voids#in my defenseâ phantump always just stare straight at you in game#the lighting is differentâ yeah. that's probably the dead giveaway. beyond the background. but like. i'm the only being on the planet who#really likes phantump anyway. i feel like it's a generally forgettable pokĂ©mon to most folks#phantump#HELLO this one is a weird one. i have some explaining to do. so when i did this one i didn't know how to edit models really at all#and when i got the models for theseâ the xy models were super shiny. shiny to the point that it made their eyes fuckin invisible#and i decided that since you could barely tell it was phantumpâ i needed a different way to get these images#i remembered that in the SV dlcâ every time you find a wild phantumpâ it just fucking. stares. at you. and i was like. aha#i kinda remembered because of the test stream that i did. tumblr user alligayytorr (am i getting the right amount of Ys) said#âhaha i am getting a sneak peekâ when i zoomed the camera in on a phantump. and i remembered that. and i was like. i can utilize this#and ended up using just an in-game screenshot of SV in replacement of the regular content. later onâ after that#once we got into gen 7 and it became less and less reliable to find modelsâ i had to learn how to edit them manually to remove the shine#i am a software dev. not a 3d modeler. this ended up coming down to editing the code of the models directly (which i ended up writing a#script to automate). nowâ todayâ january 22nd (the day of me writing these tags and updating this post)â i remembered this post was in the#queue and was not normal. so i went backâ ran the script on the phantump and trevenant modelsâ and unshinified them#then edited these two posts to be normal. i have left the original pictures i took under the cut for reference and as bonuses#because i really enjoy phantump. so that's why those images are thereâ and that's why these tags are here#just for posterity's sakeâ the folks who come here mostly for my commentaryâ i've left the ORIGINAL tags of the post when i initially#made it with the SV pictures up at the top (i wanted to rearrange themâ but tumblr makes that Very difficultâ so i left them as-is)#so if these tags are confusing to read i Apologize. but i hope now that you're at the bottom you understand what happened#i'm gonna go edit the trevenant post now
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the "it" couple
masterlist
requests are open
summary: you and Rafe being the hottest couple on the island
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: established relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of nude pictures, Rafe is reader's first everything, you're both lovesick
a/n: my obsession with soft and painfully in love Rafe is not curable at this point. but like could you imagine having him all to yourself?? ughhh the things i'd let him do to međ©
Everyone knew that there are couples that, at first glance, give you the impression that they just have really good sex. Like they are so hot and perfectly compliment each other, with a certain vibe oozing out of them, especially when they are together.Â
You and Rafe were that couple.Â
Before you started dating, no one ever considered that two polar opposites like you might even coexist. You were a kook, but still completely different from Rafe and his little gang. You were pretty, but more on the quiet side, never showing off or bothering anybody.
Rafe, on the other hand, was mean and sarcastic to everyone and everything. It was a good thing that you put him in his place the first time he talked to you, making it clear that you are not having his shit. And also making Rafe instantly interested and following you like a puppy.
You were annoyingly teasing and flirting with each other, and everyone tried not to get involved in whatever was going on. It was your first experience with a guy, because before that, nobody was really making their shots, or, at least, you never paid enough attention to notice it, choosing to focus on yourself. But with Rafe, it felt fun and so damn easy.Â
Your first kiss set everything in its place because you finally gave in to your hidden emotions. It made sense why you were always arguing and pestering each otherâyou simply craved attention from one another and it was the easiest way to get it.Â
Surprisingly, Rafeâs rough edges softened, especially around you, and he was so affectionate and craved you around him 24/7. Though, knowing that youâve never been in relationships before, he never pushed you to do anything, just following your pace.Â
But after your first time happened in the third month of dating, after the ice melted and your insecurities fully disappeared, Rafe almost got another version of his girlfriend.Â
If he thought that you couldnât be better, then he was wrong.Â
He never understood his friends who said that they had to almost beg their girlfriends to have sex, mostly because Rafe had never been in actual relationships before. But it made even less sense for him because you, seemingly, had the same energy and high sex drive as him.Â
The first few times may have been slightly awkward with you still learning and trying to understand your own body, but once you got confident, you became unstoppable.Â
Whether it was early morning, the middle of the day, or way past your bedtime, you were ready to have sex right away, straddling Rafe's legs or luring him into a kiss while your hands slipped under his pants. Â
It was crazy how much you both wanted each other. It was a perfect fucking match to have someone with exactly the same needs. You probably have been bent over every single flat surface in the house and not a single room was safe from the two of you. He wanted you all to himself and he could go hours just worshiping your body and fucking you into bliss.Â
You were almost glued together, never coming to an event alone. Rafe was so obsessed with the way you looked, with your smell, and with the feeling of your skin on his, so he always had to touch you one way or another. His friends teased him that he was absolutely pussy whipped for you and he had never denied it. They also started calling you Mrs. Cameron because you acted like a married couple and neither of you were against that nickname.
To say more, the idea of that made Rafe so feral for you, so he didnât let you get out of bed the following day. Not that you complained, though.
Rafe loved sneaking out with you. Whenever you two had to visit a gala with your families, he always snatched you from the main room to drag you to the bathroom or another hidden place to have a quickie or to burry his head under your dress because you were too hot to resist. Yeah, maybe other people noticed it, giving you their usual politely awkward smiles, but neither of you care.Â
On his birthday, you gave him the best fucking gift, which was a stack of your naked polaroid pictures. You were really nervous to do that, thinking that Rafe might react differently, but he reminded you once again why he was your perfect match. After looking through the photos several times, he literally attacked you, throwing you back on the bed and giving you the best orgasms of your life.Â
Since that day, one of the less explicit pictures of your ass has been placed in his wallet.
You were officially the âitâ couple on the island, with everyone either admiring or being jealous of that spark, which never seemed to diminish. Everyone saw the way the Rafe Cameron gave you heart eyes, soft smiles and gentle kisses. The way he held you close to himself, protecting you, taking care of you, and treating you like a queen.
Some people told you that it was only the excitement of a new relationship, but after a few years of dating, with a promise ring on your finger, it was still there. You still craved each other's touch; you still craved being together whenever it was possible, always going on dates and trips, attending all of Kookâs events, but mostly spending lazy days in your shared house. Sex was even better than beforeâmore passionate, fun, hot and full of unconditional love.
Despite the gossip on the island, Rafe didn't get âboredâ of you. No, over time, he became addicted to you because you felt like home, and there was nothing better than being with you.Â
He didn't need any other women. And he still couldn't grasp the idea of cheating. If he had you, then why on earth would he do that? Every time he came home, the best person in the world and the best sex of his life were in that exact location, so he never complained about anything.
You were his afrodisiac and whether you were in full glam, in a bikini on the beach or in his old t-shirt with messy hair, he couldnât just keep his hands to himself and not kiss the air out of you.Â
He liked how you stayed at home, doing whatever you wanted and treating yourself while he worked. You always greeted him with homemade food, but more importantly, you acted as if you had not seen him in months.
You were waiting on the porch or finishing up in the kitchen, but when you saw him, you ran and jumped into his arms and pulled him into a kiss. It always melted Rafeâs worries and bad mood away, as his shoulders sagged in relief from being in your arms again.Â
You always ended up in your bedroom, with you on or under him, while your hands were tugging at each otherâs closes. Rafe knew that it would eventually end up with him finally putting a baby in youâsomething that more and more flooded his mindâbut for the foreseeable future, he first had to officially make you his Mrs. Cameron.
And the red box with the big ass diamond ring, which was currently sitting in the drawer, was just waiting for the perfect moment. Â
#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader
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nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024
F.A.Q
do i have to draw?
not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)
do i have to make new content?
nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!
do i have to post every day?
nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want
can i start early?
you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!
can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?
i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!
event tag?
#bweirdOCtober
have fun!
image desc/text version âunder the cutâ or on bweird.art/october
prompts:
WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS
â 1: FAV OC
what makes them your fav?
2: NEW OC
how recently did you make them?
3: OLD OC
how long ago did you make them?
â 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC
an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like
5: RE-DESIGNED OC
an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?
WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY
â 6: PAST
where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?
7: LIKES
what do they like (and why?)
8: DISLIKES
what don't they like (and why?)
â 9: RELATIONSHIPS
doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)
10: PERSONALITY
what are your oc's main personality traits
11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES
what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?
12: FUTURE
what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?
WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES
â13: MEMES
do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?
14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC
are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?
15: MUSIC
share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc
â16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND
draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!
17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART
put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer
i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"
â18: SWAP
swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?
19: PALETTE CHALLENGES
draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)
hex codes for the colours:
palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3
palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4
palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8
palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA
WEEK 4: COMMUNITY
20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF
if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, â day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!
some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's
WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN
â27: FEARS
is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?
28: MONSTER
what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?
29: PUMPKIN CARVING
your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!
30: GHOST
this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!
â 31: COSTUMES
what are your ocs wearing for halloween?
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JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)
âŠIâm taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.
Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso
Black ! Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC
Gojo
Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out youâre not wearing any panties under itâŠwelp..all plans are now cancelled
Heâs a pervert and itâs your fault.
Heâs never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.
âYou have a very voluptuousââ
âImma stop you right thereâŠ.VO-WHO?â
âYou donât know what the word voâ-â
âNo, I know. Iâm confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.â
Gojo is 6â6-7â , heâs a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?
No.
No he cannot.
He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldnât see how tight his fist were in his pockets itâd prove otherwise.
Heâs so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on
âCAN YOU STOP.â
âWhhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.â
When you wear moomooâs or a big shirt it is his favorite
Yup.
Moomoo.
Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.
Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesnât sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.
He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.
Geto
He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to thenâŠeatingâŠyouâŠoutâŠwhile youâre standing.
He loves watching you put on clothes.
Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.
If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.
One thing about Geto heâs very sneaky, heâll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.
He canât help it, your ass is so pretty.
Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.
The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.
He denies it to this day, but even if he did itâs your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?
Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend canât wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.
He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others itâs a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.
Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and youâre laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it âCleaning you upââŠlittle perv.
ââWas wrong?⊠Embarrassed?â
âYES.â
âGood, now câmere.â
Toji
Ass eater.đ«”đŸ
Thatâs an ass eater he eat assđ«”đŸ.
Toji âAss Eaterâ Fushiguro
You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE
As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.
âYou like my dress?â
âHell yes, mama. Turn around for me.â
SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil
He definitely slaps and GRABS. Itâs kinda hot though because heâll do it anytime anywhere
For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.
âOOWWUH!â
âSssh, Baby im watchin the gameâŠ.what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?â
Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he donât care he quite actually is your biggest fan.
Toji is your new seat btw.
Not just his pretty face but his lap too.
Heâs a big strong man so donât EVER think or assume youâre too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.
Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. Itâs a slutty sight but he knows itâs exactly what can get you off before him
Nanami
This man here.
A KING.
Freaky king but a king none the less.
He loves every part of you.
Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you arenât sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.
Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back
Nanami however does this
ESPECIALLY on date night.
Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself
âWear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.â
âYou sure itâs not, because itâs a bit tighter below the waist?â
And now hes blushing.
Heâll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.
Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.
Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.
âItâs okay, baby, honest. Use my face.â
âKentooooâ!??â
One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldnât expect from a man like him, but you wasnât complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldnât even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.
Choso
Lord bless him.
He is veryâŠ.confused to say the least.
He never understood the attraction of womenâs parts.
Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.
âOh.â
ââŠoh?â
âYouââ
You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.
Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!
âYouâre sexâcuteâŠâ
Choso isnât necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting youâŠ
Youâve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.
Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.
So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.
Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually itâs 69 or you laid to your side.
Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he canât help but to hug you from behind
Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.
Moans at the sight everytime
No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.
He doesnât think heâs a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.
If yall are wondering why I didnât really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.
#black reader#gojo#gojo satoru#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#jjk headcanons#gojo saturo#geto#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo x black reader#jjk x black reader#jjk toji#gojo x y/n#toji#nanami headcanons#nanami smut#choso headcanons#Choso smut#jjk x black y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x chubby reader#gojo smut#toji smut#geto smut#toji fushiguro#gojo x you
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BREAKING CHARACTER REAL QUICK FOR A SLEEP SUPPLEMENT PSA FOR MY FELLOW VAMPIRES AND NIGHT OWLS:
so I've had chronic insomnia since early childhood and the only thing that helps me fall asleep without the "oh, I've been drugged" feeling is melatonin
and never once have I seen any instructions on the bottle anything beyond "take at or before bedtime"
EXCEPT
my doctor tells me last week that you're not supposed to do this otherwise it really fucks with your circadian rhythms! apparently the ïżŒoptimal time to take melatonin is around sunset (if you want to be asleep by 10pm-12ïżŒam) because darkness is what naturally stimulates the brain to secrete melatonin
taking it too late (i.e., past 9pm if you intend to sleep around 11pm and wake up at 7am) can majorly screw up your circadian rhythm and keep you feeling groggy and sleepy af well into the day!!! which explains a lot for me personally â not the whole picture but certainly some of it! ïżŒ
so what I've been doing is I take my regular dose as soon as I notice it's dark outside (around 7:45pm these days) and I start getting sleepy around 10pm-11pm depending on the day I've had. I'm fucking full on passing out by midnight, like phone falling on my face, gotta sleep now. and my sleep isn't perfect but it's a lot better than it was! I get a solid unbroken 6-7 hours stretch which is huge for me and I don't feel like death warmed over needing both vyvanse and caffeine to even think about functioning!
anyway if you already knew this then GOOD FOR YOU BUDDY WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME AT ANY POINT IN THE PAST 15 YEARS and if not, I hope you try it out and it helps even a bit! đ€
#and now back to our regularly scheduled vampires#melatonin#sleep aids#sleep supplements#sleep support#hekate.txt
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i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while heâs gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. heâs so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, heâs never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her bossâs infatuation until sheâs not, heâs so awkward around her she thinks he just doesnât wanna be disturbed, but she doesnât know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he canât help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((
Banner picture credit: @661ave
possession
noun
the state of having, owning, or controlling something.
Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint. A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon⊠This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you havenât read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)
Heâs good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.
And he keeps his house neat and clean: thatâs not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life â love life included because there is none.Â
He always ensured heâs not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.
He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesnât hate house chores⊠but he doesnât like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. Itâs big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesnât have any.Â
Family, or friends, that is.
When he hears that his co-worker â the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids â hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesnât have a chaos in his home, but heâs got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, itâs only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?
Itâs just that he didnât expect housemaids to be this⊠cute.Â
There are quite a few applications, and heâs a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need?Â
Another thing he didnât expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. Itâs the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. Itâs clearly for his delight because itâs not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir.Â
She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a womanâs touch, no one has ever baked anything hereâŠ
And he certainly doesnât expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.
She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how sheâs had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven.Â
He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, itâs not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. Heâs barely even home, so itâs good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?
He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, heâs thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago.Â
It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a womenâs conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. Thereâs a pair of womenâs underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs heâd have to fold himself this time because sheâs in a hurry to catch her bus.Â
Heâs far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldnât care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy.Â
When he finds out sheâs busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that sheâs sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so thereâs no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when heâs away.Â
It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. Heâs never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now heâs pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home.Â
Even if sheâs not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she mightâve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard.Â
Itâs nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.
His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.
Itâs unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true⊠But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube.Â
Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.
He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if sheâs noisy in bed â is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her?Â
And god, how he would fuck herâŠÂ
Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaftâŠ
He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob.Â
He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps sheâd give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.
"Scheisseâ"
He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks. Â
She's just his maid, a hired employee. Sheâs just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.
He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company⊠He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.
âŠ
She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.
She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of.Â
Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.
Is this what a home should look likeâŠ? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things?Â
But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.
He gets it before her next visit â meaning, her next shift â and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope â hell, a full surge of it â and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men donât fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.
With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all.Â
There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.
What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?
He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.
He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job.Â
The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.
Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.
So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up.Â
She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for himâŠ
She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.
"I got you something... Merry Christmas."
"Aw⊠You shouldn't haveâŠ"
She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.
"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."Â
He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.
He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like heâs trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he canât quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb.Â
Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good forâŠÂ
"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically.Â
Ach so⊠Sheâs ashamed for not getting him a present.Â
Well, shit. Fuck.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean⊠I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."
"Thatâs nice to hear."Â
"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."
He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.
"You already got me Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, but⊠You paid for them."
"Aber... You baked for me. No one's everâ"
He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.
"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways.Â
"I truly did."
She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them⊠it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.
"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. Sheâs still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying.Â
"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."
She gives her last smile to him; itâs sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.
"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"I⊠Ah, glĂŒckliches neues Jahr."
"...What does that mean?"Â
"It means 'Happy New Year'."
"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughtyâŠ"
Shit.
Shit.
ShitâŠ
"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."
She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that heâs not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.
"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.
"Something naughty."
Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too.Â
"Really�"
"Yes."
"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."
Playful, naughty, dirty.Â
She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.
Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening?Â
"I want to lick your pussy."
There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.
"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"
"Ja."
It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldnât be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.
Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress.Â
With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.
When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. Sheâs either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then sheâs concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.
"Go ahead then," she whispers.
He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.
She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil⊠If she knew, she would be out the door by now.
It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips.Â
Mein.
Mein.
MeinâŠ
He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so thatâs what heâs going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. Thereâs only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.
Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - heâs not an expert, but he knows she wonât find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country⊠Perhaps the entire world.
And she's not a screamer, sheâs a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.
He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin.Â
"Just like that⊠Just like that⊠Don't stopâŠ"
He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries.Â
To help her out â because he's a generous, generous man â he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.
"Oh god ohgod oh fuckâ!"
She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like sheâs his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams.Â
The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin.Â
Women need a lot of stimulation; thatâs what he has learned. Itâs a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesnât want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined.Â
Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.
And he's only about to fuck herâŠ
"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.
"Ohâoh godâŠ"
Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds.Â
"Waitâ"
"I will fuck you now."
"Sir⊠Please, could we use a condom? PleaseâŠ"
She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for.Â
"Hm. I don't have any."
"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a yearâs worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child...Â
But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.
Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...?Â
How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?
She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft.Â
"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to⊠Good, long, deep and hard.
She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is⊠Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go.Â
"It's⊠okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just⊠If you're clean?"
"I am."
He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.
And heâs clean; he keeps everythingâŠin ordnung.
He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.
"Ah ja⊠Das ist schön⊠Sehr schön."
Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck⊠He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove.Â
"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"
It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.
"OkâŠ"Â
"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"
"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so goodâŠ"
The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that� He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.
"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.
"OâohâŠ?"
"Ja⊠It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."
"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "PleaseâŠ"
If this is a dream, itâs the best dream heâs ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness.Â
"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."
He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that heâs truly inside the sweetest pussy heâs ever had.Â
He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely.Â
"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"
"Yes⊠Oh fuck, I'mâŠ"
Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he canât get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.
He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this wonât be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog.Â
"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut⊠Ach fĂŒrâscheisseâ"
He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck.Â
She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning⊠But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.
"Ok⊠Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"
She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out â now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.
"Will you stay? For the night�"
His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content.Â
"I⊠I'd really like to but⊠I can't. I have a party to attend.â
She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while heâs plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity.Â
She just needed a fuck⊠She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck⊠She's even worse than him.
âI'm sorry..."
"It's ok," he hears himself say. Sheâs too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.
For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.
He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything cleanâŠ
She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. Itâs held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.
She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.
He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.
It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours⊠He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.
The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women.Â
When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.
"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."
Thereâs a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. Itâs a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.
And has she walked all the way back hereâŠ? Thereâs no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.
"Youâre afraid to fall in loveâŠ?"
She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thingâŠ
"Liebling... Me too."
"Really?â she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. âYou seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."
"Oh I fear a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like⊠flying, for example."
"But you fly all the time?"
"Exactly."
She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say sheâd never sleep with a freak like himâŠ
"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."
She wonât come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldnât get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.
If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one.Â
"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then weâll tuck you in. That sound gut?"
"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sirâŠ"
"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."
She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in.Â
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldnât feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.
What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs.Â
This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like itâs already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. Heâs been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps thatâs why she doesnât run away from him.Â
"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.
"...What?"Â
He barely hears what sheâs saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because heâs there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if heâs crouching next to the tub in reality.
"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.
"What do you mean.â
She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.
"You're⊠Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."
He tries to remember how to breathe, but sheâs not done yet.
"I'm sorry but⊠No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."
Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.
So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her⊠Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latterâŠ
And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy.Â
But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a jokeâŠ
"Youâre literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"
"I'm not⊠right in the head, I guess."
"Well, neither am I."
He canât look at her. Not when sheâs open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.
"No one is."
"No. Wirklich, Iâm a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to yourâŠ" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes.Â
"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind⊠Actually I think that's hot."
"LieblingâŠ"
"I think Iâve had enough now. Can we go to bedâŠ?"
"Of course."
She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets.Â
He doesnât need to fuck her, not right now. Itâs enough that sheâs here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his.Â
Not another lonely Christmas for him ever againâŠ
And she latches herself onto him like heâs the saviour sheâs been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesnât know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but heâs not kind. Heâs not considerate, and heâs not perfect. Heâs her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise.Â
Heâs single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.
But he knows sheâll stay. Heâll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.
"Are you still afraid?"
He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. Sheâs unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness.Â
"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."
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đđđ?| đđđ
Why do you still love me
The playlist series
Paring- romantic!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader
Warings- pwp (just a little) smut, unprotected sex, throat fucking, boob play, mentioned masturbating, rough sex, overstimulation, hickeys, biting, manhandling, and crying after sex
WC; 1.7k
A/N; chill, this is a mess
Not edited
Now Playing WHY? by Bazzi
ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©ââ©â
Jungkook knows he's pathetic. He's delusional and idiotic in everything along those lines.
He just loves you so damn much. He knows he's not perfect, but he's committed to doing whatever it takes to make you happy.
He can't help it.
He is a romantic who fell for Anti.
Jungkook spends days crying about you; his parents hate you. His friends hate you. He doesn't care, though, and you don't either. Everything reminds Jungkook of you. The Netflix account that you two share. When he goes to watch funny videos on Instagram, remember that you blocked him for no reason.
When he's driving his car and sees the remnants of stuff you've left behind, the Polaroid picture is in his wallet. You and Jungkook had a simple agreement. Friends that have sex.
But Jungkook trapped himself; he started doing more than you asked. Buying you gifts, taking you to concerts, meeting his mom, and hanging around with his friends. You also did the same; Jungkook saw it as more. He thought you two were building something. But then, when he scrolls through his feed and your story doesn't pop up, or when he searches for your recent Instagram pictures, your account says it is unavailable.
It reminds him that, to you, he is only your friend. A friend that you block when you've found someone else more entertaining. You block Jungkook because he does too much and he ruins your other flings. Like when you actually tried to be in a relationship and Jungkook ended up in your ex-attempted boyfriend's car. Drunk because you blocked him two weeks prior and pictures of you and him fell out of his wallet.
Your attempted relationship called you an asshole for leaving Jungkook so quickly and moving into him. He could only ever imagine what you would do to him when you were bored.
You didn't talk to Jungkook for 3 months until you were bored and unblocked him. He came back like a stray dog on the street. Then you sent him packing again three weeks later.
Jungkook tried to play you back; he slept with some girls and sent you a very shitty sex tape. You answered two weeks later, saying you guys could make a better one. Pathetic, you know damn well Jungkook is head over heels in love with you. But you don't care. You're just happy that you can keep him around.
His friends call you weird and shady but still want to fuck you, and very few have succeeded.
But like today, you were scrolling on Tinder, waiting for someone to pop up. But it was dry, so you rolled over to your mirror, took off your clothes, unblocked Jungkook, and sent him a well-awaited nude.
He opened it 54 seconds later. And he was on his way to your place. Jungkook almost ran outside naked when he saw your DM. He threw on some clothes and ran. He actually running to your place, 7 blocks from his.
You stand in your window, and you hear Frantic steps. You look down the street and see Jungkook running for his life. He spots you on your balcony. With a sinister smile plastered on your face. You can hear his breathing from seven floors of the ground. "Hey, Kookie," you say, going inside and waiting for him. A few minutes later, you hear the elevator at the end of the hallway
Jungkook is out of breath, but when he sees you standing at your door with nothing but your little pink satin robe,. He almost crashed out. Out of breath, he kissed you, and while you slipped off your robe, he immediately touched your breasts. One of his favorite parts of you. Even though he loves all of you, he does have his favorite parts.
Your boobs, your hair, your lips he can go on and on. You two make it to the couch as he takes off his shirt, his chest still damp from his shower. You kiss his neck as he sucks on your breast. "Are you wet?" you say, and he nods, mumbling something. "What?" you ask, and he picks up his head. "I was walking out of the shower when you sent me that." You giggle as he leaves hickeys on your tits, pinching and teasing your nipples.
You moan in his ear. Sitting up, you shove his pants down. Take him into your mouth. Jungkook grunts. As your wet and hot tongue pleases, his very deprived cock. Getting hard immediately in your mouth. You take his length down you throat. Jungkook thrusts his hips into your mouth, and you moan, batting your eyelashes once. Signifying him to fuck your throat.
He does, and he moves faster than the lewd sound of you gagging on cock. Jungkook feels his orgasm. He takes your hair pounding it into your mouth. He look at your eyes, which are watering. He stops, and you take a deep breath and moan. Jungkok lifts you up from the floor, throwing you on the gray couch. He positions himself between your legs, entering you with a deep thrust. You arch your back in pleasure, feeling him fill you completely. Jungkook's hands grip your hips as he sets a rhythm that has you both gasping for air.
"You know I'm getting tired of your shit, Y/N. You blocked me for weeks, then you sent that fuck ass shit." Jungkook fucks harder. You feel it in your chest. You moan, digging your nails into your shoulders. As he continues to pound into you. He stops and flips you over. He smacks your ass. You pick it up for him and he grabs the meaty flesh. He thrust back at you, and you moan, gasping as you hit you with another thrust hitting your spot.
His eyes bore into your body, filled with a mix of happiness and frustration. "I'm not going to make this easy for you," he growls, his grip tightening on your hips. You can feel the intensity of his emotions fueling every movement, pushing you both closer to the edge.
"I'm going to fuck you for how you make me feel." His words thrust into you at an ungodly fast pace. "You like it rough, yeah, do you, baby? You love it when I pound into you like this." He's grabbing your ass so hard that it's probably bruised from the force. "Jungkook," you say in a hushed whisper. He smack your ass. Hard
"Shut up, this is how I feel when you block me for them other slow fucks," Jugkook continues with the fast pace. After about a minute or two, he feels your pussy throbbing repeatedly against his lenth, and then he slows down. Giving you long, painful, slow thrusts. You whimper, punching the couch cushin.
'This is how slowly the days move after, just waiting for you to call me back to you." He keeps up the slow pace. Your body aches from your orgasm, but you feel it lingering. Jungkook kisses you back. âYou want to go faster, baby? Like how ast I came running to you," you nob your head.
"Beg," you let out a disappointed sigh. You shake your head, no. " I'm going to fuck you nice and slow till I come. I don't care about you right now," he says, flipping you over on your back again, and Jungkook lifts up your legs. When you press up against your chest, your calvles rest on his shoulder. He pets your hair, his finger running down your face as he fucks you slowly
Your body hurts from the ache, so you compile. "Please go faster; it hurts," you says, placing his lips on your neck. "Does it hurt, baby? That's what I feel like too sometimes," he said, nodding and agreeing.
Jungkook kisses you, sucking on your tongue. He pulls away. "But you want to know something, babe; I don't care how you are right now. Just like how you never care about me. Your such a bad friend," Jungkook plays with your clitoral. His still inside of you with his slow thrust. You feel at his fingers, playing in your wetness.
"Please, Jungkook, I'm sorry. Just please fuck me faster." Jungkook smirks and increases his pace, his thrusts becoming more intense. You moan in pleasure, but he's not moving fast enough. âJungkook faster?" He shakes his head, continuing.
"Your so mean," you say, gripping on the cushin of your coach. Your head is spinning at Jungkook thrust, and your body is agching but also satisfied, even though you haven't come yet.
Jungkook, speed up. Knocking into you at the faster speed from earlier. He's almost cumming. He is going to make you feel good. He rub your sopping cunt. Kissing your neck. You start to moan louder as your orgsams appearing once again after a long time. You grip onto Jungkok's thigh. Gripping his flesh, your head is spinning as your body heat builds up inside you.
Jungkook's movements become more harrowing by the second, his grip on you tightening as he reaches his own orgasm. The room is filled with the sound of your moans and his heavy breathing.
And finally, after what feels like hours, you cum, you cum so hard that your body starts to shake at the sight of your eyes bugging out as you moan so loud. Jungkook also comes, you feel it shoot into you. The sticky white mixture is counting your simulated walls. Your head hurts, and your body is tired. You look at the alarm clock on your coffee table, eyeing the time. 1:39am. You feel yourself dozing off.
You usually fall asleep after sex. But this time was different. "I love you, so fucking much babyâ Jungkook whisped into your ear. You feel tiny wet tears fall on your shoulder. Getting off of you Jungkook sits on the edge of the coach breathing heavily. You turn over, you canât bear to look at him. He just fucked your brains and now he crying like a kids who got his candy stolen.
"Why do you love me?' This isn't the first time Jungkook has told you this. So you changed your question.
'Why do you still love me?"
A/N; so y/n hate fan club?đ
#@áŽáŽÉȘsáŽÉŽsÊÉȘÉŽáŽ#bts#bts jungkook#bts smut#bts x reader#jeon jungguk#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jjk#jungkook angst#bts jeon jungkook#bts jk#bts smau#bts fanfic#bts jeongguk
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Imagine this..
Gojo absolutely loves the look of his pregnant wife wobbling around the home. He loves it a lot more than he thought he would. Gojo takes so many pictures of you. From the day of the big news, all the way to today.
"Satoru sto-Op!" You squeaked and giggled as you spoke. "I am allowed to dote on my pregnant wife, thank you very much." His low voice spoke very smugly into your ear. Despite your outward complaints, you still looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter and smiled. You blinked when the flash went off, and you rubbed your eyes.
"You take too many pictures of me.." You grumble. "Especially when I look like shit." You pouted and rested your hand on your swollen stomach. Gojo gasped and put a hand to his chest. "Shit? You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever met," He leans now and cups your jaw in his hands. "Especially in the mornings." He whispered softly before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss and felt your shoulders relax.
"Mm..if I wasn't already pregnant, I would drag you to bed until I am.." You mumbled happily against his lips. Gojo snickers and rolls his ocean eyes. "Keep talking like that, and I will drag you back to bed, despite already being pregnant." He smirked with lidded eyes. "Even if I'm 5 months pregnant?" You whispered. "Especially when you're 5 months pregnant." He pulled you into a passionate kiss after the words left his lips.
You both didn't leave the bed again until 6 pm.
-----------------------------------------------------â€
Gojo hurriedly washed his hands and ignored grabbing paper towels as he left, deciding to wipe his wet hands off on his pants instead. He was in too much of a rush to care anyway. His pregnant wife was all by her lonesome in the grocery store as he dealt with his bladder problem. He hated to leave you alone. He hated leaving you alone around other people even more.
Gojo sensed your cursed energy in the nearest aisle and quickly returned by your side. He smiled when he spotted you looking at the baby shoes that were huddled in a small pile on the corner of the shelf. Gojos eyes glanced to the clearance sign above the shelf and playfully rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted our baby girl to have the best quality clothes? Why are we in the clearance section?" He playfully scolded as he leaned his shoulder against the shelf with the shoes.
"Well, I remember saying that it doesn't have to be expensive, as long as it looks adorable on our baby boy." You retorted with a sly smile. Gojo huffed and shook his head. "Our baby girl has the best, strongest, and wealthiest father in all of Japan. I think she deserves to be spoiled." He crossed his arms, making you glance at the faint sight of his veins popping out. Amusement laced his eyes behind the dark shades adorning his handsome face.
"And I think our baby boy will care nothing about being spoiled, as long as it's comfortable." You shot back and quickly looked back down to the pair of shoes in your hand. Gojo felt his heart leap when you placed the boy shoes in the shopping cart before reaching back onto the shelf and grabbing a feminine pair of shoes as well. Gojo pushed himself from the shelf and walked behind you to wrap his arms around your growing belly.
"You are going to be an amazing mother." He whispered softly into your ear. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. "You think so?" You placed your hands onto his. "I really do."
-----------------------------------------------------â€
It didn't take long for Gojo to realize you weren't in bed with him any longer. He was normally hyper aware when you would leave the warmth of his arms at night, but he had been even more of a light sleeper after you hit your 7 month mark.
Gojo didn't want to think of what he would do if something had happened to you.
He threw the covers off of himself before leaving the inviting warmth of the sheets. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen, only to find you quietly sitting at the marble island in the center of the room. You were minding your business as you nibbled away at your odd snack, a soft tune playing from the radio nearby. Gojo always insisted on buying speakers. That way, he could blast music from the TV, but you denied him every time. You always said that the radio was much better.
Gojo sighed and quietly walked up to you, his eyes grazing over your plump form. He couldn't help but smirk. You just looked so lovely as you sat there, munching away on your food, his shirt barely covering your body. Gojo was head over heels in love with you, that was obvious.
"Sneaking away from me just to get you a snack? How rude." Gojo softly said as he pouted. You jumped as his arms snaked around your body. You swatted at his muscular arms and shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Dont sneak up on a pregnant lady! You nearly made me drop my pickles.." You mumbled. Despite your annoyance, your body still leaned back to relax against his warm chest.
Gojo glanced at the food in your hands and resisted the urge to shiver. Pickles and marshmallows. "Mm, I wouldn't want to have to throw that snack away.." You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and plopped the pickle and mini marshmallow in your mouth. "Shuddup."
-----------------------------------------------------â€
"You're doing so good, baby, just a few more pushes." Gojo encouraged you with soft spoken words and swift fingers caressing your hair. You wanted to yell at him to just shut up, but the pain you were feeling inhibited anything other than pained sounds.
Gojo hated seeing you in so much pain. Especially when he couldn't do anything to quell it. "Just one more push." The doctor said. If it weren't for the situation, Gojo knew better than anyone how embarrassed you would be right now. He leaned down closer to your ear. "One more push, sweetheart, and then we can meet our beautiful baby." He whispered softly. You gripped his hand tighter, thankful that his infinity was lowered, his touch grounded you. It kept you sane on a normal day, and you needed him more than ever right now.
"I can't.. I can't!" Your voice was hoarse and weak as you sobbed aloud. Gojo shook his head and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your skin as he spoke. "Yes, you can. I know you can. You're strong, the strongest woman I have ever met, I know you can do this." His words replayed like a symphony. You can do this. You are strong. You can do this. For your baby.
One final push, followed by a shout of pain, led to the cries of your baby echoing in the room. Gojo smiled and gulped down his nerves as he watched the nurses take away his baby to be cleaned.
You weren't in the same condition.
Your ears rang as your head pounded. You know your baby was finally delivered, so why couldn't you hear them? Your glazed eyes panicked to search the room for your child. "Sa-satoru?" Your voice weakly called out. His ocean blue eyes cast down to your face to see the concern and tears. His hand moved from your hair to your face as he wiped away your tears and tilted your gaze to meet his.
"I can't hear them crying. Are they okay?" You hiccuped. Gojos eyebrows furrowed slightly, yet he kept a warm smile on his face. "They are fine, don't worry." He reassured and kissed your sweaty forehead. His eyes glanced to the doctor, only to see a reassuring smile sent back his way. "It's normal for the mother to be disoriented after giving birth. It's a lot of strain on her body." The doctor said quietly.
Gojo sighed and briefly closed his eyes as his lips lingered against your forhead. His attention was directed to the nurse as she walked back with a small bundle in her arms. "Mrs. Gojo," the nurse called softly. Your eyes fell to her, then the bundle of life in her arms. A wobbly smile formed on your lips as you weakly reached out your arms for your baby. The moment the baby was rested against your chest, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall.
Gojo couldn't help but tear up.
"It's a boy." The nurse spoke up. You tearfully giggled and gently ran your finger over your baby's cheek. "My baby boy.." You mumbled, a soft kiss landing on his head.
After a few moments of skin to skin contact and appreciation, you looked to Gojo. He didn't need you to say a word. He eagerly held his arms out for you to gently place his baby boy in his warm hold. On instinct, the man handled his son with nothing but gentle touch. You just knew he was going to be an amazing father. "God, look at you.. beautiful, just like your mama.." He cooed. You rested your hand on his arm. "Handsome, just like his daddy." You whispered with droopy eyes. He shakily sighed.
This is his family.
-----------------------------------------------------â€
"Thank you.. Thank you so much." Gojo mumbled into your ear. Your mind, despite being fogged, was able to register his words. "F-for what?" You gasped, your nails drawing blood from his pale skin. "For giving me a family." His words reverberated in your spine, causing your ears to tingle and your eyes to close in pleasure.
"I want to be selfish.." He spoke again. His movement picked up speed, quickly sucking the words from your throat. "I want one more. Give me one more -please baby, just one more.." But Gojo has always been a greedy man. One was never enough, and you knew this all too well.. "Please~" He begged, almost pathetically. You moaned aloud and grasped his face in your hands, pulling his lips to your own from where they once were on your neck.
"Give me it, Satoru.. give it to me."
#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#pregnant reader#fluff#fanfic
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Done Waiting
Lando Norris x bsf!reader
She isnât you
Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld
â-------------------------------
MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what Iâve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. Iâm caught up in some work stuff, or else Iâd make the trip myself.Â
Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him.Â
Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack.Â
You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him.Â
It hadnât taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and youâd dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in.Â
Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. Youâd been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didnât fit in that picture right now.Â
Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better.Â
The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.Â
âMaking sure you donât do something crazy,â you replied, mirroring him with his arms.Â
âI want to be alone.â
âI donât care.âÂ
You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water.Â
âYou didnât have to come; Iâm fine,â he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his.Â
âI wanted to come.â He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was.Â
âWhy donât we get some rest? Then youâll be ready for a full day tomorrow,â you suggested, and he looked over at you.Â
âIâm here to relax, y/n,â he said, and you smiled mischievously.Â
âIt will be relaxing, I promise.â
It was not relaxing.Â
You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you.Â
Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune.Â
âAre you not relaxed?â Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. âArenât you supposed to be working?âÂ
âYeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,â you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. âWhat are your plans for while I work?âÂ
âOh, I donât know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.âÂ
Shooting him a look, you sighed, âThat would be funny if I didnât know youâd already been doing that.âÂ
He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter.Â
âYouâre going to be okay Lan,â you said, looking up at him.Â
âI know,â he said sadly.Â
Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadnât had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well.Â
Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house.Â
âSmells great,â he commented and you smiled. âCan we eat outside?â
âYou read my mind,â you replied, plating the food.Â
Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears.Â
âThis place is amazing; how did you find it?â You asked, turning to Lando.Â
âHonestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,â he admitted. âI just wanted to be away from everyone.âÂ
âWe are here for you to lean on Lan,â you said softly. âIâm never going to leave you.âÂ
âI know that, but I just donât want to disappoint you,â he confessed, and your heart sank.Â
âLando Norris,â you said, forcing him to look at you. âThere is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything youâve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.â
âWhat did I do to deserve you?â He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair.Â
âYou buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,â you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally.Â
Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment.Â
â------------------------------
Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal.Â
Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner.Â
âHi, Iâm Mary,â a girl you didnât recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself.Â
âMary and I met at a shoot early this year,â Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip.Â
You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were.Â
âYa know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,â Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie.Â
At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush.Â
Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time.Â
You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Landoâs lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done.Â
Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You werenât sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasnât interested but he didnât do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim.Â
God, you were so fucking over it.Â
You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag.Â
"No y/n donât go,â he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes.Â
âI canât fucking do this anymore Max,â you said, voice cracking. âI have to protect my heart.âÂ
âYou know he loves you,â he said moving towards you to hold you. âEveryone knows that.âÂ
âIf thatâs true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,â you yelled and Max stayed silent. âExactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.âÂ
Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone.Â
âY/N!â He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. âWhereâd you run off too? I was looking for you.âÂ
You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag.Â
âWhatâs going on?â He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob.Â
âLet her go mate,â you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off.Â
Landoâs POV
Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.
âWhy is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?â
Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Landoâs face with a mix of frustration and pity. âMate, sheâs in love with you. And honestly, youâre in love with her too, even if you havenât figured it out yet.â
Lando froze, the weight of Maxâs words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with youâthe late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how heâd let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.
She isnât you.
The thought was so painfully clear now. It didnât matter how kind or fun Mary wasâshe wasnât you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.
âI need to go,â Lando said suddenly. âI need to go to the airport.âÂ
He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone.Â
â--------------------------------------------
You skipped the Singapore GP. You didnât even watch it on tv so you didnât know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium.Â
He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. Youâd started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops, and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable.Â
It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You werenât expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didnât live in Monaco, you didnât really know what to say, just stared at him silently.Â
âMay I come in?â He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. âNice apartment.â
âThanks,â you replied following him into the living room. âWhat are you doing here?â
He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side.Â
âI need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,â he said slowly and you immediately looked away.Â
âIt doesnât matter,â you mumbled, playing with your hands.Â
âIt does matter,â Oscar insisted. âItâs okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.â
Your head snapped up, âI didnât reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.âÂ
âThereâs no way,â Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club.Â
âTrust me when I say that Iâm not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,â Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. âHe is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.â
âThen why did he never tell me!â You said, voice rising. âIâve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isnât afraid to love me.âÂ
Oscarâs heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way.Â
âI came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,â he said. âIâve never seen him like this and itâs starting to affect his racing so Iâm begging you to at least think about talking to him.âÂ
â-------------------------------------
You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didnât. Every morning he texted you âgood morningâ and gave you updates on his day even though you werenât responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working.Â
Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked.Â
Because of a work event, you werenât going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldnât see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning.Â
Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch.Â
âI missed you so fucking much,â he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you.Â
âWeâll talk later okay?â He asked and you nodded. âI have a lot of things I need to say to you.â
He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions.Â
Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him.Â
After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You werenât sure if heâd want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.
He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. âYou waited for me?â
âOf course I did, Lando,â you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. âI always do.â
He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. âCan we go somewhere⊠quieter?â
You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.
âI was an idiot,â he began, voice raw with honesty. âYou donât know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I couldâve done differently. I didnât understand how much it would hurt you⊠I was blind to everything but my own mess.â
You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.
âYouâve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much Iâd taken you for granted. Iâm sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not⊠admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe itâd hurt less. But I canât pretend anymore. I love you.â
Hearing those words, the walls youâd built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.
âIâve loved you for so long,â you whispered and he gave you a soft smile.Â
âI know, Iâm sorry I didnât see it before.âÂ
When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.
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baby steps | lando norris
pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo)Â
genre: fluff
warnings: noneÂ
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
---
When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Landoâs races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing.Â
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad youâve ever seen, giving into your daughterâs every whim. Itâs exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain.Â
âSay goodbye to daddy!â you say as you pick up your daughterâs hand to make her wave.Â
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Landoâs head as he stays frozen in the entryway. Heâs not forgetting anything, thereâs no way he could with your packing lists that heâs used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
âY/N I - , I donât know anymore about this,â Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening.Â
âLan, cmon now, I canât have two babies in this house at once.â you joke as you pinch his cheek. âBut seriously, youâre gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. Iâm only a phone call away all the time if you need me. Youâre going to be great and weâre cheering you on from here. Iâll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so itâll feel like youâre still with us.â
While Piper canât talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Landoâs eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults donât notice.Â
âWhat if Piper canât fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before Iâm gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?âÂ
âFirst off, I have memorized âthe Rainbow Fishâ perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. Sheâs not going to walk because sheâs barely 8 months old. And lastly, sheâs not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?âÂ
Lando doesnât miss a beat when he says âalways.âÂ
You hand your daughter off to Landoâs arms in exchange for the carry on thatâs currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. Youâre not the only one whoâs noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever sheâs in her dadâs arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando.Â
âPlus I think sheâs in that phase where sheâs starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bugâ you tease as you squish your daughterâs cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldnât he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport.Â
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
 âDonât worry Pipes, weâre going to see daddy sooner than you think,â you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
â
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many peopleâs minds. Thatâs what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. Itâs no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says âThis one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piperâ over the radio, it brings tears to everyoneâs eyes.Â
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. Itâs absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him.Â
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. Youâre a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. Itâs like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Landoâs direction. Lando immediately stops everything heâs doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both.Â
âOh my god, youâre here.â Lando lets out a breath he didnât even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again.Â
âThereâs no way we were going to miss daddyâs first race of the season. Congratulations, babeâÂ
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that heâs at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if heâs ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now.Â
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Landoâs helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that sheâs going to want to keep playing when you get home. Youâre the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know youâre outnumbered.Â
âKeep her safe, Lan, okay?â Itâs a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldnât let anything happen to her - but itâs still a big crowd, the biggest youâve ever been since you gave birth, and itâs a little scary to not hold onto her here.Â
You donât think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview.Â
âI have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest youâve brought with you?â Will asks with a grin.Â
Lando canât help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. âThis is my daughter Piper, and sheâs just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I canât share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words canât describe how much she means to me.I really wouldnât be standing here in front of you today without her support.â Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment.Â
âWhat does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?âÂ
âOh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.âÂ
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Landoâs hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Landoâs chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - âdadaâ.
At first Lando thinks heâs hallucinating - thereâs so many people around and thereâs so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he canât help but start to cry.
âShe -, she- called me dada, oh my god I canât believe it,â Landoâs in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that thereâs a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective âawwwâ from the crowd. âSorry itâs just -, wow, sheâs never done that before.â he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
Itâs now Piperâs turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Landoâs shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits.Â
Luckily itâs time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights.Â
âLook at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And thereâs uncle Alex, and uncle George...â Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piperâs gaze falls to Landoâs new hat instead of the screen, but heâs happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment.Â
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - itâs only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined.Â
Itâs no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando canât help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you.Â
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that heâs packing a suitcase. Youâre honest with Lando when you tell him that youâll see him once he gets back, thereâs no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season heâs having. As the journalists would say, Landoâs âdad powersâ have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far.Â
âWhat do you think is going to happen when I donât come home from a trip with one of those?â Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. Itâs the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
âI donât want to find out, so youâll just have to keep getting podiums, Lanâ you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder.Â
----
author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em đ€
#lando norris#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4#f1 fluff#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#ln4 imagine#f1 fanfic#mclaren f1#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando fluff#formula one#ln4 x reader
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Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together
Part 1 Part 2
-
Mission debrief:
Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?
Peter: *slowly raises hand*
Natasha: Don't worry you're still young
Peter: đ
-
Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?
Clint: *points outside*
*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*
Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/
-
Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?
Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke
Clint: No but it might... grow
Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them
Clint:
Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education
-
2:34 am
Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*
Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*
Tony:
Sam:
Tony: Let's never speak of this?
Sam: Yep.
-
Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory
Tony: Thank you thank you
Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS
Tony: Uh
Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE
-
Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*
*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*
Tony: Oh come on. All of you?
*nodding*
Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time
Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*
-
Bucky: Don't sit so close to me
Sam: Why, cause I'm black đ€š
Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat
Sam:
Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-
-
During training:
Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*
Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that
Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*
Natasha: Seems like you already know how
-
Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self
Clint: I'll take that bet
*7 minutes later*
Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!
Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-
-
Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you
Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day
Bucky: What. How do you know about us.
Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...
Bucky:
Natasha:
Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation
-
Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing
*Box is missing the last piece*
Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*
-
Natasha: Kings
Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?
Natasha: Nada. Fives?
Bucky: Shit. Here
Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?
Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve
Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*
-
Steve: Do you want to play catch?
Wanda: What?
Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?
Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about
Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?
Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me
Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*
Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures
Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?
-
Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?
Steve: What did you just say about my chest...
Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.
-
Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?
Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings
Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!
Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs
Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented
Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat
Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence
Bucky: God I hope so
#incorrect marvel quotes#incorrect mcu quotes#irondad and spiderson#marvel mcu#marvel#incorrect marvel#incorrect quotes#irondad#mcu#peter parker#tony stark#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#bucky barnes#sam wilson#clint barton#thor#bruce banner#wanda maximoff#pietro maximoff#avengers#domestic avengers#the avengers#marvel incorrect quotes#sambucky#stony#stevetony#thor odinson
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hot girl tips to be more productive
With a million things to do, where do we find the time? Sometimes it can be so easy to just procrastinate, not do your work and keep pushing it back till it's too late. Let's not do that anymore.
5-minute rule - start small. If you've been putting something off for a long time, trying to commit 1 hour to it can be challenging. You can't do a marathon without a warm-up first! Could you set a timer for 5 minutes to do that task? After 5 minutes if you want to continue, go for it; if you don't, that's okay, because at least you've done 5 minutes today, which is better than 0. Tomorrow or later in the day, try to challenge yourself to do 7 minutes this time, then 10, then 15, and you will get into that rhythm.
Eliminate distractions - it's all because of that damn phone đ but seriously, tech and social media can have such a tight grip over our productivity and our attention. If you cannot control your usage, set app timers that lock the app after you use it for a certain amount of time or delete the app. I've been using a minimalist phone launcher called 'OLauncher' that removes all my icons and makes me manually have to type and search for the app. In the time it takes me to search for the app, I get to ask myself, "What am I looking for? Do I need to use it for something specific or do I just want to scroll?"
Schedule properly - note down all your commitments and non-negotiables in an app like Google Calendar and make sure all your big events are displayed there. Some people can fall into the habit of planning every second of their day, but I instead delegate a few tasks to each day and give myself any time within the day to complete them, the important thing being not when I do them, but that I do them in the end.
Write to-do lists - now this doesn't just mean in-app lists, which are very useful. Physically write them out. I use a scrap piece of paper and I write: "Today I WILL..." and then list all the things I want to get done. Having it written down helps me commit to it more and the feeling of ticking it is so satisfying.
Know your WHY - Why are you doing this? Why do you want to be more productive? Why do you want to study more? Always look at the bigger picture. Where do you want to be and how will your productivity help you get there?
Celebrate your wins - whether you completed all the things on your to-do list or just one, be proud of it. Some days, you will feel super motivated and fly through all your tasks, and other days you just want to stay in bed and do nothing. Making an effort is the first step to your success.
No matter whether your goal is to complete a project, get good grades, get into the school of your dreams, or just get your work out of the way so you can focus on other things, tackle it little by little. Just 20 minutes every day for a week is better than trying to do 140 minutes worth of work on the last day.
#becoming that girl#girlblogger#girlblogging#it girl#lifeblr#self improvement#that girl#productivity#productive#studying#student#productivitytips#self discipline#get things done
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chemical override (8)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy đ€
series masterlist âȘïž main masterlist
The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.
Day or night, Ewan will answer your call.Â
Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, âEwan, what the fuck was that picture?â
He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a âthis is what you getâ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? Heâs been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he canât muster the energy to care.
âHello to you too, darling,â he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory.Â
Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?
Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity.Â
All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.
âDonât play dumb with me,â you reply immediately. âWhy would you post that? I didnât even know you took it in the first place.â
âI was doing you a favour. Donât you see? People are under the impression that weâre still together.â
âThat doesnât mean anything.â
âDarling, you know it matters. Itâs not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,â he said.Â
âOh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,â you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. âSince when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.â
âI know some mean things were being said about you.â
âI donât care about any of that,â you insist, but you no longer sound sure.
âIâm doing you a favour,â he says. âIf that picture remains, then itâs basically a âfuck youâ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.â
âHow can I cheat on you, Ewan? Weâre not together.â
He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that youâre right. âYou know what I mean,â he musters.Â
He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please donât leave me.Â
But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?
You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, âYouâre so fucking infuriating.â
He canât help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, âHey, baby, youâre the one who called me.â
But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. âEwan⊠this isnât going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, weâll have to make it known that weâre not as in love as everyone thinks.â
He frowns, not accepting that youâre pressing on the topic. âWhy?â
âYour memory must be so twisted, Ewan,â you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, âDonât you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?â
His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. âThat⊠That might not happen.â
âMight not? Oh, for fuckâs sake, you didnât quit, did you?â
âNo, I didnât quit,â he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. âBut can we not talk about the film? Itâs not what matters right now.â
âBut it does, Ewan,â you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, âyouâve got this important thing, and I⊠what if I want out? What if I want something real?â
âSomething⊠real.â It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. âLike what?â
âI donât know⊠I just â â
âThis isnât real enough for you?â There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldnât even work if he tried. âI⊠Iâm notâŠâ
âEwan.â
You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks itâs for the best. He responds with his usual, âDarling.â
âWhat are you going to do about that picture?â
âDonât worry, Iâll handle it,â he finally decides.Â
âWhat?â
âIâll get rid of it.â
âOkay. Good.â He can hear the relief in your voice, but heâs not done yet.Â
âBut you canât get rid of us,â he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. âI wonât let you.â
You groan, âEwan⊠â
His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, âDarling.â
Heâs met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. âAre you home?â he asks.
âWhy?â
Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He canât let that happen again. âAre you still angry with me?â
âWhy?â
âWhy donât I come over and we can hash it out?â His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldnât resist.Â
âYouâre incorrigible.â
âMaybe so,â he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, âbut I want you.â
He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.
âI canât believe you, Mitchell,â you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. Itâs all he needs.
âSee you soon, darling.â
All throughout the night, he doesnât let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.
Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this canât last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind.Â
This is enough, even for now.Â
And so the song remains the same.
Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alynaâs attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter.Â
The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat.Â
You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. Youâve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewanâs last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadnât deleted the post â he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.
The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasnât out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm.Â
Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Wonât that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you wonât be his and he wonât be yours?
Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.
Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.
âWell, well, if it isnât the fiercest bastard in the realm,â Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. âLooking for your next conquest?â
âCareful, Matthew,â you shoot back, smirking. âAlynaâs got a list, and youâre edging pretty close to the top.â
âGood to know Iâm on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,â he teases, nudging you playfully. âBut letâs be real, youâd miss me too much.â
You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. âMiss your terrible jokes, maybe.â
âYou love my humour,â he insists. âIâm just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.â
You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. âIs Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?â
âDepends,â he quips, a sly grin on his face. âIs it working?â
Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. âWhatâs this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either Iâm going mad or my five espresso shots are working.â
âWatch it, you,â you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. âAlynaâs still got some arrows left. And Iâm not his sidekick.â
Tom smirks. âIf I didnât know better, Iâd say youâre all talk.â
âWant to test that theory?â you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.
âSee? Deadly,â Matt says, winking at you. âSo, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?â
You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. âYou know, that doesnât sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.â
âOuch,â Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. âIâll do my best.â
As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Mattâs eyes tells you heâs noticed too.
âYouâre playing with fire, you know,â you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.
He grins, lowering his voice. âI wasnât called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.â
âSure you are,â you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewanâs intense focus.Â
The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their characterâs demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewanâs gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side.Â
He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewanâs mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, âEwan, can we get your attention over here, please? Youâre off your mark.â
Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. âTrouble in paradise?â Of course theyâve noticed Ewanâs odd behaviour.Â
âMore like purgatory,â Phia quips, scrunching her nose.
âSomething like that,â you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, whoâs now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesnât stray far from you.
âWell, if you need an escape route, just say the word,â Liv offers, her voice full of concern.
âDo you want me to stare back at Ewan?â Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt.Â
âThanks, guys,â you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know thereâs no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like heâs one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.
Not long after, itâs time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewanâs gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasnât so fucking infuriating.Â
You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewanâs brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like sheâs recounting the worldâs most thrilling tale.
âEwan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,â she says, grinning.
Tom saunters up, âCare to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? Youâre scaring the crew, mate.â
Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. âCome on, Ewan. Letâs go for a smoke, itâs stuffy in here.â
Ewanâs clearly torn, but heâs powerless against his friendsâ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, youâre free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later.Â
The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.
âSo, coffee next week?â Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.
âYeah,â you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. âIâll see what I have scheduled then Iâll give you a call.â
âGreat. Iâll even let you pick the place. Well, Iâll be off, love, Iâm meeting my sister.â he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. âBut Iâd better give you something to remember me by.â
Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?
As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesnât say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that heâs bothered. Heâs jealous.
âYou seemed to be having fun,â he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.
âMmm, maybe I was,â you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. âIs there a problem?â
Ewanâs eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. âNot at all. Just⊠nevermind. Iâm sure you know, weâve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.â
You freeze. âYeah, I heard. What about it?â
âIâm just making sure that youâre okay with it, darling.â
âItâs work, Ewan,â you reply tersely. âWeâll deal with it.â
The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. âSo, youâre stealing Matt away from me now?â he teases, and thereâs an edge to his question. Heâs still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But heâs aware that thereâs no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear.Â
âMaybe,â you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. âHe seems to like my company.â
Fabien laughs, though thereâs a hint of something serious beneath it. âIâll allow it â this time. But donât forget, Iâve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.â
As Fabienâs laughter fades, Ewanâs voice cuts through the lightheartedness. âI donât think she needs your protection, Fabien.â
You canât help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. âI donât need looking after, Ewan.â
âMaybe not,â he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. âBut that doesnât mean Iâll stop.â
Thereâs a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know itâs a dangerous game youâre all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.
For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy.Â
âSee you around, Fabs,â you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. âIâll see you for our shoot, yeah?â you tell Ewan, making it clear that youâre not up for another dalliance in between.Â
He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesnât just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldnât.Â
He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest.Â
Youâre exhausted. Youâre frustrated. You shouldnât give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home.Â
If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a momentâs notice. Isnât that just a knife in the gut?
You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.
Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.
You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewanâs hold.
Fabien can only roll his eyes.Â
Only two days later, and youâre back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesnât dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place.Â
Walking onto set, youâre struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire.Â
Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think itâs just you admiring your boyfriend as expected.Â
He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, âHowdy, darling.â
âWhy, hello, good sir,â you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy.Â
âReady to give them a show?â he asks, and youâre sure if heâs referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former.Â
As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. Youâre clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively.Â
For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horseâŠ
The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if heâs trying to memorise every detail of this look.Â
âAlright, letâs try a more dramatic pose,â the photographer instructs. âMaybe something with a bit more attitude.â
You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewanâs gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line.Â
âI canât even articulate what youâre doing to me, darling,â Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.
You smirk, âSpeak for yourself, Mitchell.â
âMmm,â he hums, satisfied.Â
The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.
His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. âYouâre making this incredibly difficult, you know.â
You tilt your head slightly, âDifficult how, exactly?â
âKeeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,â he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. âItâs like youâre daring me to break every rule weâve set.â
That youâve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. âSo what if I am,â you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you.Â
For the next few minutes, itâs a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.
In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. Heâs seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.
His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. âDoing anything tomorrow?â
You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. âActually, yes.â
His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. âCare to elaborate, darling?â
You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. âIâm supposed to grab coffee with Matt.â
âMatt.â Ewanâs voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. âJust the two of you?â
âYes.â
Thereâs a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. âIs it⊠is it a date?â
âI think that was implied,â you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.
âReally.â His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.
You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. âWhy the long face?â
Ewanâs hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. âFuck, Iââ
Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. âForget it. Donât answer that.â
âNo, justâŠâ His voice falters, his emotions raw. âI donât want you to go.â
You blink, taken aback by his admission. âAre you being serious right now, Mitchell?â
âDo I look like Iâm kidding?â Ewanâs eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.
But nothing feels right anymore.Â
âI donât know,â you retort, your voice rising slightly, âI hope you are. Because you canât just say that to me.â
âBut I am.â His tone is resigned but unwavering. âI donât want to watch you with someone else.â
The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. âThen Iâm ignoring what you just said. This isnât fair to me.â
His face falls. âYou canât just ignore it. Itâs not that simple.â
You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. âWell, I donât see how this conversation is going to help anything.â
He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. âI just â damn it. Wait a minute, darling â â
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. âLook, if youâre going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink â â
âNo,â he interrupts, his voice desperate. âI donât want to rethink anything. I just⊠I need you to understand that this isnât easy for me.â
The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you.Â
You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. âIâm gonna go get some air.â
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.
Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.
Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?
He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness wonât let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.
A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.
âEvening,â he says, opening the door wider to let them in. âGlad you could make it.â
Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. âWe came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.â
Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. âAnd some beers. We figured you might need them.â
Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know itâs inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. Theyâre the rescue squad after all.Â
âSo⊠we have a feeling we know whatâs been eating at you,â Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. âWe saw the headlines, mate. Donât even deny it. Itâs gotta be rough.â
Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. âYeah, the headlines. theyâre , uhhhh ⊠oh, what does it even matter?â
Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. âCome on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We werenât cast as siblings for no reason.â
Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. âWe have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... itâs like a punch to the gut.â
Tom nods sympathetically. âI get it. Iâm sure it was fun at first, but â âÂ
Phiaâs concern wins over her, leading her to interject, âEwan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.â
Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. âI donât know. Iâm not sure I want to see where that leads.â
Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. âAsk her why she ended things last year.â
âI know why â â
âJust⊠ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.â
Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, âItâs better than letting it fester. At least youâll know where you stand. You owe her that much.â
Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. âMaybe. I just donât want to make things worse.â
âMate,â Tom shakes his shoulder, âlook at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I donât think itâs possible.â
Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, âHeâs right, you know.â
Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. âTo Aemond and Alyna.â
âOh, you absolute rascal,â Phia laughs in disbelief.Â
But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewanâs mind is still consumed with thought.
Day or night, you will answer Ewanâs call.
âHello?â your voice patches through after a few rings.
âDarling,â he says, âI think we need to talk.â
đ next chapter
Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )
Some notes in the margins...
I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?
In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?
Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)
The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below đđ
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd#chemical override#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine
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What does this:
Mean in the context of skk, 15, stormbringer, and dazai acting like a lovesick puppy.
Well, the first thing I notice is that it's heavily implied that dazai didn't say shit and hasn't in his entire employment at the ada. Everyone talks about the mafia with a certain level of "hey I heard about you because my mom's dad's aunt's best friend's knitting club was talking about you and one of the members' dog's coparent said they saw you at Walmart."
Between akutagawa, higuchi, and now chuuya, it's like they know nothing that might help them with the mafia.
Why wouldnt yosano know though, she used to be mafia? Well that's what I thought at first too. I figured maybe rumors had just spread throughout the mafia in her time there.
But, at the same time, add up these numbers and then tell me if the math is mathing for yosano to know anything about chuuya
Chuuya is 22 and joined when he was 15, meaning he joined 7 years ago. 14 years ago (11 when she finally escaped) means not only would she not have met him, he would've been 11 by the time she left.
Not only that, but she was an 11 year old child-doctor, which means she would've had no contacts in the Mafia and no friends to tell her anything.
And, most damning of all, in 15 phase.02 mori says this when asked about suribachi city.
By the time chuuya was awakened, yosano was already out.
So maybe it's kyouka. But here's the thing: she doesn't seem to know shit outside of her (old) job description. She was in such an information silo that she didn't know what a crepe was. That makes her out of the picture for me, especially considering she was the subordinate of the subordinate of the boss's subordinate.
So that leaves 2 options: word on the street, and dazai.
If I can get information on the second highest ring of your underground murder organization by asking around, your organization is getting shit on by the feds in 4 seconds flat.
So that leaves one option: dazai.
But he doesn't seem to be much of a sharer, so why would he share about mafia things? Well we have precedent for it.
There's this incident, proving he's totally chill with sharing about the mafia. And then, there's something so gay it will make you want to claw your eyes out and join the witness protection program to get away from how single you feel
I wish someone would look at me the way dazai looks at chuuya's corruption form. And he's even bragging about him and how cool and powerful he is.
Regardless, this proves that he does totally talk about chuuya when he's not listening, and that he's not the inscrutable clamshell of a man he pretends to be.
Now: the other implication. Chuuya just assumes dazai was talking about him, meaning this was a pattern in the past. We can see this pattern manifest in the party that dazai tries to throw in 15, as well as the fact that ango knows chuuya in dead apple.
How many times do you think dazai genuinely set up challenges for chuuya back in his mafia days, to the point where upon being recognized, his first thought is "dazai did this."
Just put a ring on it already guys.
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Ten Things That Are F### Cool About You | PAC
pile one pile two pile three
how to choose a pile . . . choose which picture you are most drawn to or close your eyes, breath and read the one your eyes land on! ᥣđ©
â â.á today I saw a pick a card that not only pissed me off but also disgusted me due to how mean the reader was in every single pile. I checked. their egoistic approach annoyed me. instead of spreading hate, I wanted to remind you why you are an awesome person. not proof read.
pile one : - cold drink !
đ : the high priestess, eight of wands, nine of wands reversed, death
bottom of the deck: five of wands
⥠⹷ why you are so cool
1. You always research about a topic before talking about it! I think this is very cool because a lot of people spread misinformation without even knowing it and thatâs why fake fun facts exist. You are not like that though! You feel a sense of responsibility and thirst for knowledge, which in itself makes you a reliable person. - and source! -
2. You protect those who cannot stand up for themselves and I think that is very cool! Usually, you might have a hard time standing up for yourself but if itâs someone more vulnerable than you then you will give your all. You will raise your voice, yell, make valid arguments and even fight if necessary. - This differs person to person but the imaginary I am getting is protecting children, animals, women and young teens (from creeps to be exact) -
3. You work on yourself and enter new beginnings even if itâs scary at times, it can be hard and scary but that doesnât make you back off from actually trying your best to become someone that you can be proud of. There is always a sense of hope within you that is very admirable.
4. You know how to keep privacy! A lot of people donât, and donât value it as much as they should. Having a healthy boundary with privacy is a privilege not many realise they have.. also, if you happen to share an intimate moment with someone you donât run your mouth but rather treasure it as a memory as a form of respect.
5. Some people in this pile have temper issues, obviously, donât take it if that doesnât apply to you but I am seeing that for those of you who can resonate with that you are doing a really good job keeping it under control. You are not a hot headed person.
6. You are very experimental with looks! I do think this makes you a very beautiful person, because there are several things that suit you and look cool on you. If you like taking pictures I hope you know that you look beautiful and gorgeous in each one of them, one day you will look back at them with a smile even if you didnât like that one thing because at least you gave it a try.
7. Zero judgment detected in your soul. Seriously, you could be the sort of person that never freaks out at peopleâs âhear me outâs but rather just go âyep, I get why you are into thatâ even though you have no attraction to whatever character or person they said. You get their point, itâs just not one that you will make.
8. My fashion babies in this pile are slaying each and every time! You could take dressing fashionable in a seasonal manner mildly seriously. You donât expect everyone to do it, but itâs most definitely something you take a lot of joy in. Itâs really cool, your style is a 10/10. - Yes, even if you change it up often. -
9. Even if you are anxious you can do things so incredibly well. You remind me of a video I once saw of a girl with anxiety making a phone call, her hands were shaking uncontrollably the whole time but she didnât stop being polite and kind. I think thatâs you. Even in moments of being scared, you are kind to people.
10. You have such a beautiful voice. I mean your singing voice, but if you are not confident in that this could of course mean your regular speaking voice too. There is something comforting and yet bittersweet about your voice. It makes people feel home at times when they are sad.
â âźâË die with a smile - bruno mars & lady gaga , âgood luck babeâ, 2003 , enha photoshoots , guitar injuries (from the string breaking) , white dahlias , glitter videos (those 2021 ones) , âgood luck, charlie!â , wavy hair , not well known ethnicity , taurus , capricorn , pisces
thatâs all my beautiful pile one! I do think you happen to be very shy, but I do hope that you know that you genuinely have so much love to offer. there is much more to you than what you show the world, but I think you already know that. thank you for reading
paid readings
pile two : - peace sign ! âđ»
đ : page of pentacles, eight of swords reversed, queen of wands, five of pentacles reversed, page of cups reversed, the star reversed
bottom of the deck: judgement
⥠⹷ why you are so cool
1. YOU THINK YOU ARE SO COOL AND MYSTERIOUS BUT YOUR HEART IS FULL OF LOVE AND KINDNESS đ«”đ» YOU TREASURE YOUR LOVED ONES AND WOULD RATHER SACRIFICE YOURSELF THAN TO EVER SEE THEM SUFFER !!YOU ARE SENSITIVE AND LOVABLE !!!!!!!!!
2. After all that you have went through you are still here and you are still standing. All that happened but rather than it destroying you completely or bringing you down you allowed yourself to heal and I am very proud of you for that.
3. Your judgement of people are very great! Of course if you donât like someone of have mean thoughts of them you will keep it to yourself in order to not upset anyone, but you are still really good at telling their personality by their behaviour. Other people might not know but you do.
4. You are a secret little romantic! I bet it makes you shy to express your emotions outward and so freely. Truth to be told, you want to experience so much romantic things and wish to think of them without experiencing negative emotions. This makes you cool because even though you have a hard time with it, you know itâs a part of you and accept it.
5. You are so kind to animals, take care of them and most people reading this pile have a pet too. I think animals are just naturally drawn to you regardless of what they are. - as in pet, stray or wild animal. - Itâs like they know they can be safe with you.
6. âYou can slap a bitch if you need toâ. Literally, thatâs what I heard.. and I think most people here take pride in it too right? Just make sure to not get into unnecessary fights. Itâs not what makes you cool though. Itâs that you keep to your word. If you say you are gonna do it, you really will.
7. A lot of you find comfort in the stars and moon. In an aesthetic sense, but also there is a deep sense of appreciation for them that not many people have. They just put you in awe. If you are into astrology you have such a deep and profound understanding of it. One that not many people have.
8. Honestly, your view of life is sort of clouded and not completely âwholeâ but thatâs alright. Exactly because day by day you do your best to learn and never turn an opportunity to see life from a wider perspective down, even if you might have done this in the past.
9. You are sooo talented, and you donât even realise that. You are amazing in creating things; anything that is physical. This is especially true if you like jewellery, as I think designing or just making your own craft is something that you would/could enjoy doing if you put your own unique twist into it. Itâs just something that makes you feel alive.
10. You are so confident! Even if you might not always feel like it, on the outside you always appear confident and aware of your surroundings. Someone composed who wants to present themselves in the best way possible. - You probably pay a lot of attention to your posture. -
â âźâË âI donât even wanna do this anymoreâ , homework from 1 am âtil 4am , 9 to 5 , jean purses ? , ditto - new jeans , a bent photocard (of whoever) , 7 - JK , stars , something about the four seasons ? , fave colour = red , âlettaâ , cappuccino & frappuchino , friendly banter , 111 , 1212 , 2011 , sagittarius , aries , leo
i am sorry for yelling at you at the first point my pile 2 but some younger people in this pile - esp teenagers - like to put on a mean girl persona when thatâs not them at all. whatâs the point of that? you canât please people with someone you are not. I sincerely wish thatâs something you will remember my sweethearts. thank you for reading
paid readings
pile three : - megaphone !
đ : three of wands, six of swords, knight of pentacles, justice, king of swords, the lovers
bottom of the deck: five of pentacles reversed
⥠⹷ why you are so cool
1. You know when to walk away from a situation, which is unironically awesome. Like sure this could be considered a negative trait but you arenât toxic with it. You just simply know your worth.
2. You have a person you are in love with for several years now right? At least, most people in this pile do. You have unwavering loyalty and love in your heart that no one can take away from you, no matter what. I think thatâs very cool.
3. You treat children really well! Which should be a given, but many people are way more mean and cruel hearted than what children should deserve. After all, they are humans too and fragile ones at that. You are very responsible and a safe space for them. I wholeheartedly believe thatâs cool.
4. When you call people out, you do so with evidence. I do like that a lot, you donât just accuse people but rather keep collected and calm even if you are angry or despise the situation that you were put into.
5. Did you ever take a look at your side profile? You are quite ethereal, you have such an unique beauty to you. I do also believe that you look beautiful in your home countryâs traditional clothing style:
6. You are stubborn, but not in a sense of annoying people or being selfishly caught up in your desires. This is a stubbornness that is found in people with leader like qualities, that people can rely on. You are stubborn in a sense of wanting to create a better future for yourself and those around you who you deem to deserve it. - bc letâs face it, some humans suck. -
7. I am sorry if this sounds weird, but your hand is always occupied with something. You are a very busy person, even if you might not believe so. You gotta do this, and you gotta do that. You have many interests, hobbies and responsibilities too. Yet you manage to juggle them so well, itâs hard to guess when you are stressed out.
8. Whenever you are around you light up peopleâs day and mood. You are such a sunshine child, people love to have you around. Even if you believe thatâs not the case, people do appreciate you a lot more than you realise.
9. If you have a love for photography I hope that you know that you have a beautiful talent. You are amazing at taking pictures, making them pretty and seeing the beauty in every single little thing even if other people might not be able to do so.
10. You are really good with finances and saving up despite the anxiety it causes you. Give yourself a pat on the back because that is not something many people are able to truly say about themselves. Many people in this pile were raised in a way to appreciate money but not let it consume you, which I think you nailed pretty good!
â âźâË somewhere over the rainbow - israel kamakawiwoâole , early 00s & 10s hawaii , crying at night , daydreaming for hours , âthank goodness â , my little pony , new hyper fixation , heat , ten to five , hair being washed by someone else , flamingos , pimples ? , papaya - sorry, ik gross to mention right after , pink skincare bottles , 555 , juliet , lucifer , 10th house
my dearest little lamb your energy was the calmest, sweetest and most welcoming out of all the piles. I am truly happy that you decided to read my pac / participate in it. it was truly a pleasant experience to channel for you đ«¶đ» thank you for reading
paid readings
#tarot#tarotblr#tarot community#tarot blog#tarot reading#free tarot#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a number#spirituality#astroblr#paid readings#free tarot reading#astro community#what else do I tag#yâall isnât my king so handsome on those pics bc I think he is#idk just enjoy reading
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Screwed Up and Brilliant
Synopsis: Negan is ready for you. Daryl isnât; and maybe heâll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.
Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (mentioned), Negan is a bad guy but there is nuanceâ at least I hope I accomplished doing so, angst, guilt, forbidden love, probably super stereotypical, reader at the Sanctuary, moral dilemma reader (but you got to understand, theyâre both so fine!!), I feel like I need more cws but I canât think of them and of course, smut, 18+: consensual, unprotected, vague dacryphilia, soft? dom!Negan, lite daddy kink, fingerings, riding, and basically just Negan blowing your brains out⊠but not in the walker wayâ the good way, the way we like. Amen.
A/N: Could you believe I started writing this in October or something? This is my first time writing Negan and Iâm scared I may not have gotten it right so definitely feel free to give notes! This is set during season 7/8, Iâm picturing Negan at the end of 8 and later seasons but thereâs something about him older that gives me heart eyes everywhere, but whatever you prefer makes me happy. Anyway, from my heart, and maybe somewhere a little lower, to yours; with love from writella. âĄ
Youâre screwed up and brilliant, look like a million-dollar man; so why is my heart broke?
ââ LDR, Million Dollar Man
The space was clean; minimal. The kind that let out no secrets of the owner that inhabited its insides. And of course there were the little things that let out some slight details: the ashtray on the nightstandâ a smoking habit; a ring, a metal chain, another of black ropeâ an unsuspected, albeit small, interest in jewelry; the bottom nightstand closed by a lockâmysterious and cautious, though that was to be expected. It was only reasonable heâd have something he wanted hide. But other than that, Neganâs bedroom was quite unreadable; almost purposefully mundane.
There was a fireplace, a window at the corner, and a bed at the center. It had a dark, brass, rusted headboard that leaned against the wall. Two pillows at either side. The sheets were white, and the large blanket was of fur, a tan or medium brown, it was thick and heavy. Probably unnecessary for the approaching spring heat, but it adored the bed end well; matching the other bronze, or brown, wooden and darker aspects of the room. Even the light from the small fire, though you could see clearly, made everything mildly dimâ the Sanctuary wasnât known for its brightness after all.
And truly, nothing in this bedroom, or in this fortress of a place could be described as anything close to bright. Unless you counted the sun outside in the courtyard, or the largest fireplace that blazed in the main hall, or Neganâs piercing, priceless smileâ so pristinely white, so wide it almost looked painful to perform. There was an eeriness to it as well. That was at the forefront, and everyone saw it. With the way he maintained their cleanliness, it was something that could look so pure, so put-together on any other; but on him, its power could scare you into worthlessness. Itâs the one he used when he told someone what to do even if they hated it; itâs the one he used when killing someoneâs best friend.
Itâs also the one he used on the first day he ever spoke to you. The first time that truly mattered, really.
It was during Neganâs first supply gathering at Alexandria.
You still remember it well.
Your faces filled with desolation, but chins held high; you were strongâ good at hiding the pain, the fearâ only straight, pokered eyes and mouths allowed as everyone silently agreed with you. You had told Negan that Maggie was dead.
The Widow, he had coined her. The wife of your good friend that he killedâ so generous a man was Glenn, even when he wasnât trying to be. And sheâs your friend too, brave Maggie. Thatâs the one he wanted, but as far as he knew, she was gone.
Thank God, you thought, Thank God, yes, indeed, untilâ
Neganâs eyes glazed over your frame for just a moment too long.
You werenât speaking anymore. You kept it short enough. He should have turned his attention back to Rick but he didnât.
Where there was sly roguery in Neganâs eyes, anxiety weld in the looks of all others: Rickâs throat tensed and tightened uneasily, sweat trailing down his curls and onto his forehead; Rositaâs jaw clenched with bitterness, brows furrowing under her green khaki cap with anger; and then there was Gabriel: his eyes turned from solemnity and pretend peacefulness to wide bewilderment. The plan you two exchanged had worked: you would tell Negan of Maggieâs passing, as per your idea, and Gabriel would swiftly solidified your lie by saying he was the one who officiated the short funeral. But then, another problem arose; one where he could be nothing else but helpless in aiding you. What was he, or anyone to do? It was easy to help Maggie, she was more than twenty miles away. But you, you were here. Right in front of him.
âWait a minuteâŠâ Neganâs pointer shakes lightly by his temple, his mind turning curiously. âYou.â He said, shooting his finger in the direction of your chest.
His smile, mischievous as ever, only grew wider as a moment passed and he made his realization: âYouâre the one with that- tight- grip!â He balled his raised hand into a fist as he said it. A slight snicker came after, proud of his entendre. âMy men were tryna put Daryl in the trunk and you latched onto his foot like it was your dying- act- whichââ you attempt to lessen the startle in your eyes at his upward hitch in tone, ââit most certainly could have been.â
Negan comes closer now, his face nearing your own, âBut you know better now, right?â
Obviously, you did not.
Or you would have stayed home, not given him the chance to remember you as he said he would after your nails could no longer claw into Darylâs ankle. He was thrashing too much and Neganâs men pushed you away; they were too strong together against the two of you. They kicked dirt in your face for it, held a gun to your head until Negan told them to stop. His point was made with your two friends he had killed, no need for anotherâ especially not one who amused him like you had just done.
âDAYUM. She is surprisingly strong!â He had yelled, ignoring the weeping faces of you and the group kneeling in a line on the ground; sweat, blood, and tears dripping everywhere. âAnd I do like âem loyalâŠâ He had given you a once over while telling his men, âHands off, gentlemen,â and before returning his attention back to Rick, he added, âIâll keep my eye on you.â
And he did.
You made an impression.
Now youâll pay.
Rick should have told you why he wanted you to stay with Judith. He remembered what Negan said too. He remembered what Negan said to everyone. He couldnât forget. But maybe it didnât matter. It was only the start of Neganâs day here. Maybe he would have found you anyway.
Rick would feel it was all his fault nonetheless, but all you could think about is how truly, it was your own, and no oneâs at all.
The sun allows glints of wickedness to sparkle in the whites of Neganâs teeth as he continues imparts his demand, âFrom now on, donât stop me when Iâm giving an order, okay?â Itâs like you can hear him underlining his words just with his darkened voice. Turning his waist, he extends his hand to everyone as he finishes, âAnd that goes for all of you.â
You force your face to remain leveled as he meets your eyes again, that cheshire look returning directly toward you. He curls his head to the side, whispering near your profile, âSo⊠youâre his girl, huh?â
Your mouth becomes slightly agape. You donât even realize it before you can try to close it. He asked the question of aversion, or at least thatâs what you assumed it was to Daryl.
You knew it was just his way, that speaking about things like this might have not been his strong suit. Besides, there were more things to worry about almost all the time, but it still hurt to know that when asked, the only complete and honest answer there could be was no.
Your eyes trail down slowly, desperate to avoid his, and Darylâs faceâ a few feet away from youâ turning to the side, looking at nothing. He could not hear what was being asked, but maybe Rick did, Rosita and Gabriel too. It was unclear, but their eyes prodded with more tension, more worry, Daryl could register that, and even more so, he could not stand Neganâs face that close to yours; he was probably trying to make an advance on you, scare you, or both. He pretends not to care, but ultimately itâs useless. Negan detects your expression and turns to look at Darylâs; he notices both failing attempts at impassivity.
âOh,â he muses, voice returning to its normal volume, âor not, my badâŠ. I guess that does make more sense though.â He speaks louder now, casually, like heâs a close friend consoling you about your boy troubles, âI personally havenât been able to hold a conversation with the guy either, and Iâm just tryna be friends.â
Daryl was right. Negan was weaseling his way in. He snarls because of it.
Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.
You feel the sweat beading from your hairline to the nape of your neck. The danger felt from Neganâs presence was as thick as the sunâs heat that shone directly on the cemetery grove. Itâs hard to look up and especially to look at him directly for that long as if he truly was the fire in the sky, so you look down again.
Negan pats your shoulder sympathetically, his hand then going to hold up your chin, his thumb tracing your jaw softly.
It makes Darylâs arms twitch and his stance jerks forward, but heâs pushed back, Dwight beating him on the chest. Itâs only once but you can hear it, everyone heard it.
It only makes Neganâs grin become more sly becauseâ there it isâ a reaction; an answer. It makes what heâs about to do that much more sweet: âFuck, darlinâ. Iâm sorry. Idiot,â he tisks. Then more quietly he adds, âIâm not one though.â
This time itâs for sure: Rick caught that, and Rosita too. They give each other an alarming look as Negan continues to trail over your dispirited form, like a wilted flower. His hand lowers back down to your shoulder, then trails to your arm, to the elbow, and then off of you entirely.
Despite the feeling of Lucille under his grasp telling him he shouldnât, Rick urges himself to speak before Negan says what they all know is coming. âNegan,â he starts, swallowing the slight shake in his voice, âwould you like to see the pantryââ
âDid I ask you to speak, Rick?â Negan states, his frame still positioned in front of you. âIâm thinkinâ here⊠Iâm thinkinâ⊠particularly, that you should come with me.â
Daryl makes a sound that you couldnât hear, for Dwight was already barking a âShut up,â at him. Only the swat he gives to Darylâs shoulder is what is once again heard by all.
You almost choke on your gasp, but you hold it in. Only letting out the faintest sound as you ask, âWhat?â
âYou heard me,â he plainly says. âI mean, what do you even do here anyway?â
You almost felt embarrassed to answer.
âNo, Iâm askinâ. Seriously. Does Rick actually utilize you?â
As you begin, your voice is still quiet, âI⊠I work in the garden, with the produce⊠I help tutor the kids⊠I go on runs, gather supplies. I cook. Help with weapons maintenance, Iââ you stop, realizing your grocery list of jobs probably sounds pathetic to him, youâre like a chore boy, ââ I do a lot. But everyone does.â
âHm,â Negan responds, playing with his nails nonchalantly. Your thoughts come to fruition with his next words, âSo youâre just everyoneâs helper?â
He noticed the sad offense emanating from your eyes, so he raised his hands, âAnd those are important things to do, I mean it. It must mean you know quite a bit from everyone, thatâs smart, and thereâs no trouble in it. But⊠I saw you. I think you can do more.â
âHow?â You can still only gasp out your words. âIâm not Maggie. And sheâs not here.â
âNo.â He brings up one finger, âBut youâre clever,â you look at him confused as he brings up his middle finger to join the first, âand quick on your feet, that I now know.â A third and fourth finger comes up, âYouâre strong, youâre loyalâ things Iâve stated before.â Then the fifth he says with a smug smile, âAnd youâre a looker, I must admit.â He moves his hand to one side of his mouth, pretending to secretly tell you, âBut thatâs just a plus,â he winks. âAnd more importantly, it seems to me that just like most people in Prickâs community, you are undervalued and not paid attention to whereas I see potential.â He says it all so simply, he truly believes heâs offering you so much better that he finally ends by saying: âHm. Yeah. I think youâll be much better off with me.â
And so, with no true goodbyes said, in a van you went after Neganâs visit was done. A different one from Darylâs, of course. Taken away from the first home you had in ages.
Before the trunk door closed, Negan gave you parting words: âYou see?â He had said, âI told you Iâd remember you, didnât I?â
The words rang in your ears for the entire ride as they still do now, even more or less than two months later as you sit in his room.
Your heartbeat started to rise little by little as time went on and he hadnât arrived. With the window allowing you to escape into thought, you were left to think about the last couple of days, and specifically, the last time you were in here:
You were sitting with him on his bed. You had asked if you could talk about anything other than the world you two lived in now, and surprisingly, he obliged. It was nice. Sometime later, he had finally opened that locked drawer.
You heard him suck his teeth, what he was getting seemed lost, which allowed you to take a closer peek inside.
There was a picture of a woman. The first wife? The only real one? You couldnât tell and you wouldnât ask, it would have been too much. You didnât even get a good look at the woman anywayâ part of her face was covered and he was fast. But he saw your eyes, so you decided to take note of the books you caught a glimpse of, pretending it was the only thing you saw. You try to think of something to say⊠It did make sense he was a reader, at least even mildly if that was all it was. The way he describes his ideals, his persuasiveness, his dictionâ it impressed you, even if you disagreed with a lot of it. It was almost ironic that the only cover you saw was of a dictionary, the more valuable ones probably hidden under. âIs that where you get all your big boy words from?â You asked.
âSome of them,â he joked back, composing himself.
It was strange to almost catch him off guard. It was so unlike him to allow it, but what happened next felt even more surprising.
Whatever he got from the drawer was enclosed in his hand. He put the free one on top of the other as he started, âNow⊠I donât want you thinking Iâm growing soft on you. I just thought you deserve it becauseââ and then his voice fades. Even Negan, the ever curse-filled wordsmith, was finding it hard to describe in any other way that he was pleased with something as absurd as you not trying to escape anymore. He knew you would probably think that was the only reason for a gift, but then he opted for something that even you couldnât help but know was equally true, âYou donât seem to proactively hate me anymore. Youâre here. I appreciate it, so I wanted to,â he says sincerely. âThatâs all.â
Negan opened his hand, resting the piece in your palmâ it was a locket; lovely and rusted floral engravings all over it.
You felt sad that you thought it was beautiful, and even worse for knowing the reasons why he was giving it to you. No wonder his voice had faltered.
You remember the soft shock and awe on your face, how you said thank you and how your face felt so hot when you said it, how he asked you to turn, and how you looked at him from behind you after he put the piece on. He was so close and it felt like he was coming closer. You donât remember if that part was real, but you can see it so clearly that it must have been. Unfortunately, the only thing you remember for certain is that knock at the door that sent Negan away to handle whatever was going on downstairs.
Had you almost let him kiss you? Would you have liked it? Are you the most deplorable person for even thinking that while Daryl was somewhere else locked up at the time?
âI see they delivered my message.â
You return from your daze, your startle leaving as soon as it comes.
It was just him. There Negan finally was.
âSorry. I didnât mean to just come in. The door was unlocked.â
âI knew the meeting was gonna go longer than expected; thought you might as well make yourself comfortable.â He gestures to you, âwhich I see you did, and noââ you were getting up from his bed, âitâs fine.â Negan sets Lucille near the door. He walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed as well. There is a bit of distance between you two.
âYou know, I came back the other day,â he informs, âI was actually going to talk to you last night, but then I heard you tried to leave. Again.â His eyebrows furrow, âWe still on that?â He asks. âThought we had a breakthrough the other night.â
âBut after Carlââ
ââCarl,â he interjects, âcame here all by his badass self, and for that, I did not lay even my pinky fuckinâ finger on him.â His hand goes to his chest, âI even took him home like a gentleman. And after I got here and found out they put you in a cell without supper, I had you back in your bed before midnight yesterday, so Iâd say Iâm doing pretty well.â
âSeriously?â Your incredulity is hidden under the softness of your voice as you say it, but itâs cracking.
âAs a heart attack. Itâs your ex-people who donât listen. At least I was nice this time.â
You sigh heavily, docility officially fading. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, âThatâs hard to believe. Especially if you were gone for most of the day. I know what that means. You had whatever the fuck your version of fun is.â
He grits his teeth, holding his words back. Youâve gotten a little too comfortable with the back talk, and you especially shouldnât be saying anything after the night you had yesterday, but he allows it.
This time.
Of course, he didnât like you leaving, but he rather that it was Daryl who escaped than you. And based on the bruises: one on the side of your head, one high on your shoulderâ he imagines you might have gotten pushed against a wallâ and the light ones that littered in a couple of spots on both your armsâ he could tell his men must have been rough with you as they brought you back. He didnât like that; therefore, he lets you quip. Someone would be getting their own bruises for it some time later anyway. He would take your smartass mouth out on them to cover for it.
âMaybe,â he finally says. âNothing was undeserved though.â
You breathe in, the back and forth was no use. âWhat happened yesterday?â You asked, losing the sarcasm. Your eyes peered into his for honesty, hoping to skip the sly replies and get to the truth. âJust tell me what happened at home.â
Home. You knew better than to use that word. In fact, you have just stopped using that word. He let out an exasperated laugh, but skipped the lecture. âYou want the truth? Or just the SparkNotes?â
You roll your eyes lightly. You probably donât even notice you did it. Despite the situation being discussed, it makes Neganâs head turn endearinglyâ your tone of voice, the things you say, the way you react to him⊠you still donât realize how fresh youâve gotten with him, how comfortable. But he sees it.
âAlright. Well, Spencerâs gone.â He reveals offhandedly, replying to your silence.
Your eyes do not widen, you know what gone means. You simply nod and try to not think about how the now-cleaned bat most likely looked before.
âAnd donât tell me that you care,â he says, pretending to interject to your continuing silence. âYou gotta know he was a small dick nepo-prick, right?â
You bite the inside of your lip, shaking your head slightly. You wonât give in to a cheap joke even if it was pretty accurate, so he beckons you by name, âCâmon, that was funny.â
Still, you give him nothing.
He sighs; taking off his leather; and sits near you on the bed, his hands cupping the ledge. âThought we were finally over this quiet thing.â
âA lot has happened this week.â
âLikeâŠâ he prodes. He would only talk about it if you brought it up.
Your eyes shut tightly before opening again. You didnât want to say it, but you had to. âYou know what. Daryl.â
He states the fact plainly, âDaryl left you.â
âAre you kidding me?â Your voice is fierce now. You canât believe it. You wonât. âHeâs not that kind of person and this isnât an easy place to get out ofâ I obviously know thatâ he wouldnât.â
âOh, I know,â he jeers, âbut he did and he didnât bring you with him. Even though you were found trying to find his cell. Thatâs some real idiotic bullshit right there, isnât it? From both of you.â
You glared at him hotly, you wouldnât give it up, but unfortunately you had no rebuttal. Both of you would just continue on with the same argument, the conversation going nowhere. And not because either side knew they were completely right; in truth, neither of you actually knew what happened the other day. But in this regard, you felt there was no other choice: you believed in Daryl fully.
Because he wouldnât.
He couldnât.
Right?
You continue shaking your head, trying to find something to say in retaliation as you feel your sureness withering. Separating you two was the smartest tactic. You now have nothing to hold onto. âHe wouldnât,â you repeat pathetically, âI donât believe you.â Unfortunately itâs not quite enough, so he continues with a rant you know all too well.
âYou donât believe me?â He cups the ends of the bed more tightly, positioning himself closer to you. âWhen Iâm the one who gave you the safest roof? Secure food, clean water, access to all these pretty dresses, which, I know youâve become accustomed toââ and here it comesâ âI saved you!â
Saviors and their âsaving,â you sneered at it. What bullshit. âYou didnât save me.â
âBut I gave you someone to talk to⊠Huh?â He taunts, waiting for your response but nothing comes. He uses it to his advantage, âYouâre quiet cause you know itâs true.â
But you know something too. He says it before you can.
âOr fuck, maybe I just gave myself someone to talk to.â
You pretend you canât hear the earnesty in it. âStop,â you scoff. âDonât treat me like Iâm special. I was the second choice.â
âI think with my dick sometimes. Youâre the only choice.â
You start to shake your head, your face is flushed; scared, hot, and a little bit of something else that you refuse to let out. Then the tears comeâ the room feels so big and you two are so close and there are so many feelings youâre trying to push down. âIt doesnât matter,â you say wearily, âYou took me. And you took him. You hurt him, I saw his face.â Your voice begins to tremble, almost in unison with the tears that peak out on your eyelids. âAnd that outfit you put him in. He didnât even look me in the eye.â
âStop,â he warns.
âYou didnât even let me see him.â
âHe doesnât notice you.â
âYou donât know us.â
âI know you.â
âYou donât know him.â
âI know youâre not happy⊠What about the other night?â
You ignore him, shaking your head: âYou hurt my friends.â
âWhat about the other night?â He persists, his voice slowly growing louder. âWhat about every time I let you sit in on my meetings? What about how you have your own room? What about how I actually talk to you?â
âYou let him get hurtââ the tears start to fall, there is a quiver in your voice but you still match his near shout, âAnd you almost killed Carlââ
âShut up.â
âAnd you killed Abrahamââ
He warns you by name.
âAnd Glenn! Maggieâs husbandââ
âSHUT. UP.â
âThe baby wonât have a father, Negan!â
His voice is low and grim as he demands you to âStop. Now.â Negan grabs the sides of your neck as he says his next line, it comes out brisk and harsh and heavy like his touch as his hand wraps around your neck. âI knew you lied to me.â
Your voice is hushed, feeling his lightly pressed thumbs on the front of your throat as you speak shakily, âIâve never lied to you.â
âMaybe not since youâve been here, but did you hear yourself right now?â He pauses, allowing you a second to let it sink in. âYou just fucking proved it.â
Your eyes widen at the realization. The baby, you had said. Fuck.
âSee? Told you, you were smart.â
And he did. Brave Maggie. Clever you. That was his reason number one.
âYou have to get why.â
His voice remains eerily calm. âI do.â
Another tear falls and his thumb presses its pad under your eye, spreading a tear on your face as the next one comes down.
âNeganâŠâ you say. Itâs a mix of a warning and a plea but you canât tell for what, both fear and fire mix together because of his proximity. His touch and stare was dangerous, you wouldnât be surprised if he was pleased he caught your slip up, thrilled to see you cry, but there was also something about itâ his touch, his eyesâ that was equally intoxicating. There was something more tender there as well, something you didnât want to turn away from, he wasnât as rough as you thought. Nonetheless, your answer to these conflicting feelings are ones of neglect, you stay your course. âYouâre a bad person,â you tell him.
âPlease,â he whispers back, âjust stop.â
His eyes glaze over your features with an intent look youâve only seen once before, it was that other night in fact. Itâs almost gentle, but maybe itâs just pity, so you donât let it stop you. âBut you are.â
âStop,â he pleads, then itâs hushed, âjust stopâŠâ he says, âjust stop.â Then he starts coming closer. âTell me to stop.â
And you know you should get up.
You should, you should, you should, you know it butâ you donât.
You breathe into it.
His lips latch onto yours; your heads tilt; you lock perfectly.
Everything after happens fast, the instantaneous mess of it all: he waited and waited, and of course he would. He was waiting for you to see it, to feel it. He thought the other night was the breakthrough, but no, it was tonight, it was how you didnât back away just now.
His hand goes lower on your leg, nearing your knees so he can get under your dress, trailing up your thigh, reaching the inner side thatâs pressed up to the other one.
His hand on your neck brings you in closer, traveling up to under your chin and jaw, holding you so tight, but so sweetly. All you felt was surprise. He slips his tongue in, it's deep and intense. He brings a velvet warmth that youâd never expect from him. It was paradoxical; a fiery heaven of a feeling.
He starts rubbing your clit over your panties, kissing his way up to your ear as he does so to ask, âWhenâs the last time someoneâs fucked you?â
Your lips are parted, but you cannot speak, so he continues.
âDaryl never did, did he?â He asks in a muffle, continuing to kiss and kiss. âWho was before him?â
Again, no verbal response, but your breath does hitch at his touches. He continues to draw circles, your wetness now slowly dampening the material, making it easier for his finger to place itself between your folds, so he dips his hand under the band. That and his whispering makes you feel a kind of spark that shoots all the way down to where his fingers are touching. The first press of his thumb without any material in between forces a sudden heat to rise that instantly causes a flush of liquid to slip down your hole, it feels messier than it actually is until his fingers go lower spreading it everywhere. You were much wetter than you thought, and you canât help how good it feels, how easily youâre responding to it.
Negan calls your name, holding in every cocky reply he wanted to give about how wet you areâ he needed an answer to his question first. So he looks you in the face, making sure he has your full attention, âYouâre fuckinâ with me, right?â His words are meant more genuinely than his tone implies. âNot at all during any of this?â
You shake your head small and slowly. No.
He laughs pitifully, he doesnât mean it rudely, but he just canât help it. A touch-starved baby at the mercy of his fingertips? âWell, god-damn.â
He felt like a rich man.
He begins to kiss your lips again, now pumping his fingers into you. Your walls tighten. Itâs only two, but theyâre his. Itâs new and exciting. His kiss makes you lean into the bed, the force of his head and tongue going deeper into your mouth guiding you to lay flat as his fingers still play.
âI hope you know how fucking soaked you are,â he finally says. âYou need it so bad that it feels this damn good with me only touching you like this?â You canât help the way your body jerks up and he canât help but be smug about it. âCanât say Iâm surprised.â
Your eyes grow vicious at his grin, you almost want to hit him, but you canât. All you can do is suppress your moan into a quiet whine. Heâs so magneticâ his touch feels forbidden but so right; his voice so alluring; and his midas touch pulls you deeper and deeper into a trance, you might as well be turning into gold. Other than the involuntary reactions your body makes as his fingers continue going into your hole, now slowly going in and out as his eye gloss over your body in your favorite dress that you wore the most, youâre left paralyzed; subjected to following his lead. Wherever he wanted to go next, youâd let him.
He takes his fingers from inside of you and you look up quickly. You made sure not to whine at the loss of contact but your eyes couldnât hide your dismay. All he did was smile and quickly lick away the wetness.
âJust takinâ this off,â he tells you as his hands cross over to the ends of his white t-shirt, slipping it off and onto the ground, one of those small rope chains hitting his chin as he does so.
It was only his shirt but youâre struck by him: to see more of his ever present sun-kissed skin felt almost godly. He was pretty lean, not too lanky like his stature, but not too broad either. Light curves of muscles adorned his chest and shoulders and arms. His chest and abdomen were slightly hairy, a tattoo placed on the upper right side and you finally saw the other tattoos placed on his upper arms more clearly. They looked nice on him. He was so handsome. You felt more wetness peeking out from down below. He looked so big above you.
âLike what you see, beautiful?â That typical snark still laced his voice, but there was a genuinity to it as well. He wanted you to like what you saw; to like him.
His words make your face hot, eyes casting off to the side. It was easier to talk to him when you were mad at him, when it was about home, even just small talk about the Sanctuary; this felt⊠different. Just like the other night.
You had almost already forgotten that his charm worked this way too; in a kinder wayâ when his eyes are wide, when his smile is soft, when he calls you sweet names without the irreverent, quip-filled pretenses.
It made you have all the words on the tip your tongue: how handsome and sexy you could say he is, how much you liked his tattoos, even all the greys that littered his hair and beard l, or how, if you had to admit it, you liked that dumb shit-eating grin of his, but all you can do is lightly smile, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at your bashfulness. You finally nod. âYes,â you say, rolling your eyes, âmaybe.â
He starts undoing his belt with a laugh of his own, âOh I know youâre a fuckin liar if you think Iâm a maybe.â
As his pants drop to the floor he takes each hand and places them over your shoulders on the bed to ask, âMay I take off the ladyâs dress?â
Your eyes widened, your open mouth only letting out a sweet, surprised, and whispered, âHuh?â
âWhat? Didnât expect me to be a gentleman?â
You try to compose yourself, calm the fire you feel all throughout your body, and pretend you havenât already given in completely right when he kissed you. âI just didnât expect it would be all this slow.â
He laughs inwardly, glad to see the personality he came to know come back after all that happened these past two days. âJust give me a moment,â he jokes back. âYou think Iâm gonna waste seeing the reaction of you watching my cock spring out just so I can shove it in fast? â He comes closer, his voice lowers now, âBelieve it or not, I donât think youâre just some doll or a fuck-piece.â The groundedness of his voice is something youâve never heard before. âIâm pretty sure Iâve already stated that I see you. And truly, I think youâre damn gorgeous.â
Your eyes are stars. How can you even react? He thinks youâre gorgeous and youâre taken aback. âThank you,â is all you can quietly say.
âYouâre welcome.â He responds with eyes that have never looked so honest, so soft. You get lost in them and he has to pull you back, returning to his question, âMay I?â
You nod, quick and excitedly, âYou can take it off, Negan.â
He grabs your hands and stands you up. You look up at his face and his fingers move to the ends of your dress, pulling it over your head.
The tips of his fingers trace your chest and stomach lightly, delicately touching your skin as if itâs porcelain. He grabs your waist and travels up to take off your bra, then pushes down your wet underwear.
Neganâs cock stirs at the sight, youâre so pretty and so ready for him. âAnd I didnât even need to see it to know I was right.â Just like he said, youâre gorgeous.
Negan pushes down his boxers. Cock springing up. Big and veiny with a red tip. He was itching to get inside of you.
And there you were, eyes and mouth open wide, scared and excited all at once. You were intimidated but surprisingly not scared if it would fit or not. You would let him do anything to get himself inside of you, even if it hurt.
âThere it is,â he says, pleased with your reaction. He comes closer to your ear now, pushing you down by the hips against the bed once more. âAnd trust me, if you like that, you wonât fucking believe how Iâll feel inside of you. Just wait.â
âIâŠâ He wanted to make you feel good, youâre almost speechless. âIâm ready.â
âGood.â He says, and then he places himself above you, admiring your glistening folds as he spreads your legs. He already lines himself up, he could look at you forever but he is in no desire to wait any longer. He pushes in. Itâs a bit fast, a tight fit, it must have hurt you, but heâs too excited, he canât help it. He lets out a hum and then a groan at the feeling of your walls enclosing him, and he hears you gasp at his size. He starts to pump into you immediately.
His face hovers over yours. His eyes study your features and he realizes heâs never been this close. Of course he hasnât, heâs never fucked you, made love to you. Heâs just now noticing the way your eyelashes curl, what birthmarks adorn your upper body or not, and how many earrings you may have, but most importantly, heâs noticing the way you react to him: the way your eyebrows might scrunch, or what elicits more pants and squirmings, the way your lips tug tightly against each other or open into ovals and circles depending on what he does, how he thrusts, where he touches, how he moves.
It all makes him slowly speed up. He canât take it anymore. He kisses your neck and jawâ some kisses sweet, then others that are rough and he begins to pump and pump. Faster and faster.
âOh,â you choke out before moaning, âah.â
He continues, loving every facial expression you make until he finally speaks. âAlright. I gave you a breakâ now tell me how it feels?â
All you can do is whine incoherently.
âExcuse me?â He says more sternly. You know what he wants.
âNegan,â you whine again.
He stops. âYes?â He asks all too knowingly. âGonna use your words and tell me how it feels?â
You sigh, taking the hand placed on your hip and moving up toward the ends of your stomach, all the way up to your left breast. You let his hand rest there, feeling the heat and your quickened heartbeat radiating from the area. âYou⊠you feel so good.â Your eyes are watery, âAmazing.â
You got him there, and he almost canât help but start hammering it in, but then he remembers⊠he doesnât have to help it. He could do whatever he wanted, so he does. He squeezes your breast, grinning wildly as he gives you one hard thrust. âDamn right,â he tells you, hearing your yelp before pounding fast.
You had always been quiet but he never quite saw you at a loss for words as you are now. Your mouth is completely open, your eyes threatening to roll back further, making sounds heâs sure youâve never heard from yourself before. Have you even had it this fast? This big? This great? He knows it couldnât be. And heâs the one who gets to show you. His eyes gloss over you with pride at the thought.
He grabs your chin to get you to look at him, âWhoâs fucking you this good?â
You moan. You werenât used to this. Your eyes roll back completely as he pounds into you with eye contact.
It makes him groan loudly, his jerks into you, letting out his own moan from the sight. âOh fuck, baby. Donât play with me.â
You give in, force yourself to speak, you canât let this end. âYou, Negan!â
âOh yeah?â
âYes!â Itâs so hard to speak, it comes out so pathetically.
âWho's making you feel like no one else?â
âYou, Negan, itâs you!â Your moan turns into a pant, âItâs you, only you.â
He comes closer, his nose touches yours. His movements slow, but they donât stop. Heâs rocking into you now. âOnly me?â
You donât even think, âWho else? It's only you.â
His teeth sparkle, âOnly me.â
âOnly you, daddy.â
He laughs cockily, âSo Daddyâs making you feel this good?â
âYes, daddy. So good.â
You feel the groan he makes travel right to your clit, making it throb.
He kisses you, the corners of your lips to your cheek and neck and collarbones and back up again.
He restarts his pumping into you but his head remains close to yours. You decide to wrap one of your arms around his neck, pulling his hair, and the other hand travels down his back, holding him close.
Negan breathes you in, his head near the crux of your neck, hearing every little sweet sound you make that heâs never heard before. It all drives him wild, but then his eyes open. A question comes out that surprises you both: âAm I ruining your life right now?â He quietly asks.
âThat doesnât matter,â you say, breathing heavily from his touches, your eyes are still closed.
âI think it does.â
âYou make me feel like no one ever hasâŠâ The bliss you feel from his current soft strokes and touches making it hard to speak, your voice is so light. âAt least I got to experience it.â You open your eyes now, fingers tracing the cross drawn into his arm, âAt least I got to see the real you.â
Your eyes say more than your words do. Thereâs a yearning and a sadness, an answer to what feels right in this moment, but an insight that there are doubts that could creep up later the more that you think about it.
âJust keep going,â you tell him, âI want to see you.â
You want to see him, you do see him. His head connects with yours again, and you moan into each other's mouths as he keeps pumping. Your legs come up to his hips and youâre not afraid to be loud anymore, to tell him how good it feels, how much you like him.
He takes your hands and places them over your head, crossing his fingers with your. Itâs so pure, so lovely even when heâs going so hard down below. You hear your breaths heavy and your bodies slapping and the bed shaking.
You think about his skin, and his scratchy beard against yours, and the way you hate how he can make you smile by making the most ridiculous and raunchy jokes, and the way you love his voice, the way you canât help but to like the way he cares for you.
âNegan,â you say weakly.
âYes,â he responds intently.
âIâm gonna come,â you tell him. âI think I can.â
âCome for me,â he encourages, moving one of his hands down to rub your clit. âCâmon.â
âIâm gonna come,â you repeat, edging yourself on. Bucking up at his thrusts and his fingers.
âYou can do it. Be a good girl. Do it for me.â
You swear the fireplace blazes louder and bigger, lighting up the whole room as you yell out, moaning once more as you orgasm.
Negan finally breaths out after, holding in for so long, and comes after you. His hands place themselves flat on the bed and he pushes in fast, riding out the high.
He scoops you up immediately, holding you in his arms. He doesnât want to let go.
You two stay there for a moment until you look up. His hand caresses your face, âWhat is it?â
âIâŠâ you were embarrassed to admit that you werenât ready for it to all be over yet. âCan I ride you?â
A wiley smile appears on his face. He has to admit, heâs a little shocked youâre ready to go again, but heâd never turn it down. âWell, of course you can, babygirl.â
He flips you over, completely ready, but instantly, you become hesitant, almost overwhelmed. He was the world, not you, yet you were now above him. All the allowance to touch him anywhere you want at your disposal.
He puts his hands under his head, arms flexing. An ever wide smile present as he waits for you to begin. âYou asked for it. Donât get shy on me now.â
Your eyes grow excited again, deciding not to hold back, and you start to rock against him. You place you hands on his chest, feeling him up, touching his biceps, hands going over his tattoosâ you could stare at them, at him, for hours. You honestly think youâd lick his whole body if heâd let you. And of course he probably would. To feel big and proud and irresistible while you look like a little desperate freak? You wouldnïżœïżœt even have to ask him twice. Thinking about it and about how full his cock is making you feel, stretching and reaching all the right places, makes you moan and whine. You bucked your hips wildly, humming and giving him âmmmsâ because of how yummy it feels. You could do this forever.
âAh- uh- Negan,â you moan and your stomach caves as you whine again and you hurl forward, continuing to rock but your pace is faltering. Itâs becoming too hard and Negan can tell so he takes you by the hips, helping you move. First continuing to let your grind and then pushing you up and down his shaft so you can bounce on him. You push yourself up again, hand on his chest, pushing against it and you bounce along with his help. This was fun. You try to go faster and faster. It felt like being a kid on a playground.
âOpen your eyes,â he demands. âLook at who youâre fucking, sweetheart.â
So you do, and moan at the sight of him, âOhmygod,â you say. âYouâre so handsome, Negan.â
He's so proud of you. Enjoying your actions, enjoying your noises. He groans as he sees your breast bounce and it makes you squeeze against him.
âGood girl,â he coos, âfinally listening when youâre spoken to, about to make yourself come on daddyâs cock again.â
He starts to rub your clit again and you continue to bounce. It almost hurts because of how overstimulated youâve become but you donât tell him to stop. Your hands come to reach the headboard, helping you bounce harder. He tells you again how much of a good girl you are, how he loves that youâre not stopping, then he tells you how dirty and desperate you are for wanting him again after he already made you come. But heâs obsessed. This is all heâs ever wanted since the day he brought you here. His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and breast and back down again. There is nothing more he wants than to fuck you or for you fuck him.
You look down. You both notice your necklace still wrapped around your neck, almost nearing between your breasts, bouncing along with all of you. It reminds you of why you're here, why he gave it to you. It makes you have the realization he had⊠Was he ruining your life? Were you ruining your own? But how could you be when it all feels this good? It was completely screwed up, but everything felt so magnificently brilliant. His touch is everything, his voice is everything, his body is everything. It makes your hips stutter, it makes you moan, and at last, it makes you come again. You ride your high, going and going and going until you fall into his chest. His hands come to hold you tight thereafter.
Unthinkable bliss is all that is felt for a long moment⊠then⊠your head turns to the window. You remember what is out there and what isnât in here.
A tear falls down your cheek and he realizes whatâs happening when it falls onto his shoulder.
It hurts him now. To see you cry. Itâs not fun anymore. You feel it, yes. You see what he saw, itâs true. But you arenât really his wife. Youâre nothing that is his at all. You both know that as well.
It takes you a long time to speak, you have to force yourself, but you do. âYou have to let me go now.â You say it sternly but there is a sadness to it; a small part of you wants to not mean it even though you completely do, even though you do wish to stay here, to be enveloped by his embraceâ you simply cannot forget.
âMm,â he shakes his head, remaining leveled, âyou know too much.â
âI barely know anything,â you say. âAnd not that anything I do know matters. Knowing the way around the Sanctuary isnât going to help anyone when I know there is no way we could actually get inâŠ. And whatâs more important anyway is that Iâm not changing my mind and youâre not either.â
âIâm not.â
âAnd I canât. I wouldnât. And theyâre not going to. NeverâŠ. And if some of them dieâŠâ A whimper almost leaves you but you manage to swallow it, âI have to be by their side, Negan. I canât only hear about it. I⊠I canât see it next to you.â
His lips are pressed firm, his jaw is fixed and tight, almost like heâs grinding down on his teeth. The breath he takes through his nose could be a heavy sigh if he opened his mouth, but he doesnât. He keeps it all in.
You words and their weight hang in the air for a moment before he finally speaks: âOne of my guys that watches the armory doors has a shift that ends at 6:00 am⊠but at 5:50 Iâm going to come up to him and tell him he gets off 10 minutes early that day, that Iâll wait for the next person to come.â He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, your confusion spirals before he keeps going. âItâll be fucking weird, but heâll look dumb as shit if he questions me, so he wonât. Then when heâs out of sight, Iâll leave. The next person is coming right at 6. Thatâs all you get. 10 minutes. A little less really.â
Your eyes round slowly as the stun continues to sink in. Heâs⊠letting you leave.
âYou take one gun and one knife. Just one. Donât make it noticeable. Iâm going to check. Then you go out of the back door thatâs inside.â He didnât have to tell you the way. âIt should be easy, I know youâve tried it before.â
You look down, taking in all he says, but then he turns you face to meet his, âIf anyone sees you, Iâm gonna have to make a show of it when they bring you back. Not what I want. But if I get there before you get out, maybe 5:58, just cause Iâm an asshole, just to see you one last time⊠And if I do, Iâm gonna turn you around and youâre stayinâ. Fair?â
You nod. Itâs small and light. You donât question any of it, you canât. â8 minutes.â You respond.
â8 minutes.â His voice is neutral, but underneath there was a tinge of solemnity to it. â8 minutes,â he says under his breath.
âWhat about now?â
âNow?â He asks. He didnât think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. âWell,â he turns to his nightstand, âright now itâs half past 10.â He stares at you for a moment, you canât tell what heâs thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still werenât used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. âYou can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, orâŠâ he stops, âYou can stay with me, if youâd like.â His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. âItâs your choice.â
You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so muchâ there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others youâve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever. â8 hours till 8.â
â8 hours till 8, kid.â
You close your eyes tight and nuzzle into his chest, A peace you had never known in the Sanctuary finally subsumed you. You feel free to finally tell him, âThank you. I really do miss home.â
Home. There it is again. There was no malice in the way you said it, but there was still a pang from your melancholy words that made his heart throb. You missed home. And as peaceful as you looked, and as safely as you held onto him, your words reaffirmed that home was not here and it was not with himâ no matter how you looked, and no matter the fact that you were allowing him to hold you for the night, to call you his. In the end, you were not.
He had to finally accept it.
â8 hours till 8,â are your last words until you finally drift to sleep. This would be your last and most tranquil night here. To you, it felt right, almost harmonious, albeit sad. This is how it was and how it was meant to be. You needed it.
But to him, itâs shattering. He doesnât repeat the phrase back this time because, for once, he has nothing to say. The fire glow of the night has now withered into darkness.
You won.
He lost.
But both your hearts broke.
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