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roosterforme · 3 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you.

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile.

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that.

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

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Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely.

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now.

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns."

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now.

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day.

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"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

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I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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help-itrappedmyself · 9 months ago

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Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was.

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while.

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made.

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it.

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?”

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?”

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

#batman #dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp crossover #danny phantom #dead on main #jason todd #red hood #fanfiction #my writing #soulmate au

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suguruverse · 9 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ being best friends with ! satosugu

gojo satoru, geto suguru

notes # continuing my legacy with my loves <33 mayhaps poly relationship post next 😌 ALSOO there’s a mix of school days and adult hcs so ENJOY!!!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ satosugu being the type of best friends to either be walking 5 feet away from you or directly squashing you between them without giving you any space to breathe. suguru tends to keep a safe distance while on walks together, preferring just staying arm to arm whereas satoru ignores any personal boundaries and LOVES to walk while linking arms.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when there’s no classes and no missions to go on they also invade your dorm to hang out even if it means just being in each others presence even if you’re all on your phones or even having fun little game nights. OR you and satoru love barging in suguru’s room whenever he ignores your texts asking to hang out

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you and satoru love drawing little things on suguru’s face whenever he falls asleep and taking selfies with him passed out on your bed. and it’s all fun and games until he wakes up and chases you guys around with one of his curses

ੈ✩‧₊˚ they LOVE crashing girls nights with you and shoko. gossiping, making cookies, doing some skincare, doesn't matter. THEY ARE THERE!!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo cannot shut up around you!!! genuinely whenever you two are together, there is never a silent moment. and when he isn't talking he just starts singing and serenading you until you give him attention

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sometimes you and suguru will have these cute little inside jokes with each other after coming back from a mission without satoru and if you guys ever bring it up in front on him, he will start whining to stop leaving him out and start fake laughing to feel included.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ unfortunate for you but they love posting bad photos of you and will laugh at them in front of you. will probably make a competition of who can take the ugliest one

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sometimes you try to fake flirt with suguru for funsies because he never seems like the type to get flustered easily and he normally never really goes along with it, only pinching your cheek really hard but on the rare occasion that he flirts back, he's so smooth with it that you have to hide your face in your hands while he laughs at you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ if you happened to get injured during a mission, suguru always carries you back to your dorms until satoru complains so that suguru throws him over his shoulder so that he's carrying both of you. everything is fun and games until satoru doesn't shut up and suguru "accidentally" drops him

ੈ✩‧₊˚ they're very much actions over words type of people. satoru says a lot of shit but when it comes down to those deep emotional talks then hes basically useless. so they love doing small things for you that you think they don't notice but you do

ੈ✩‧₊˚ so random but satoru has definitely tried to pull down suguru's pants in public and had failed horrendously

#💭 — talkingtothemoon #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu fluff

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gloomwitchwrites · 9 months ago

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Missed Hints

King Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, humor, pregnancy, suggestive themes, fade to black, established relationship

Word Count: 1.8k

With the pregnancy confirmed, you decide to drop little hints until Thorin makes the connections.

A/N: for @protosslady

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

“You’re pregnant, your majesty.”

Those two little words are enough to make time freeze. You are cold, a bit hesitant, and completely unbelieving of what you’re hearing.

“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, needing to know if you’ve heard her correctly.

The midwife, Lena, smiles broadly. “As sure as the sun rises in the morning. I’ve been doing this for close to thirty summers now. Rarely am I ever wrong.”

Lena’s assistant, Petal, matches Lena’s smile with one of her own. It is radiant and sunny, a stark difference from your sudden anxiousness. “This is wonderful news,” she exclaims. “King Thorin will be so pleased.”

“Indeed,” agrees Lena. “And so will the people when it’s formally announced.”

Both women sigh at the same time, but you are not nearly as excited as they are.

You and Thorin did try for a child many times in the beginning of your marriage. It was enthusiastic—and constant—but nothing ever came of it. While it bothered you, Thorin never seemed to care. He told you that all he wanted was you and that anything else was a bonus.

That is still true. Thorin loves you.

But Thorin is being pulled in a different direction. Erebor needs attention, and Thorin throws himself into service attempting to tackle every obstacle and difficulty on his own. Most nights, he comes to bed late—usually when you’re already asleep. When you wake, he is usually gone, off to take care of his abundant duties. They are piling up, becoming a burden. Thorin does too much, and while you admire him for his dedication, you miss him.

To know that you’re pregnant is a surprise. It’s not that you and Thorin haven’t been intimate, it’s just that it hasn’t been nearly as frequent as in the past. While Thorin is gone, you have your own duties and responsibilities. When the two of you do have quiet time together, intimacy is brief but passionate and almost always followed by the two of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

“How far along?” you ask, trying to place exactly when it might have taken.

When your cycle never came, you didn’t think much of it. That happens sometimes. But then didn’t occur during the next expected timeframe. With its absence came irritability and random bouts of sudden crying you couldn’t explain. Certain foods smelt odd, and while you weren’t emptying the contents of your stomach, constant nausea made it difficult to complete daily tasks. You knew then that something was different. And now the midwife has confirmed it.

But even with an answer, you’re not sure how you feel.

“I’d place you at about ten weeks. Perhaps eleven,” answers Lena with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“That far?” you squeak, wincing immediately with how upset you sound.

Lena and Petal’s smiles start to diminish. Their enthusiasm melts away, replaced with furrowed brows and soft lines of concern.

“Is everything all right? You look a bit faint?” Lena places her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you reply, though it sounds like you’re gasping for air. “Surprised is all.”

Their smiles return but it’s subdued.

This is supposed to be a happy occasion. A child means an heir, and it also gives the people hope for the future. Much of Erebor is still in pieces from Smaug’s habitation. That doesn’t even begin to include all the damage and death from the battle. Dale, which was once abandoned and forgotten, is starting to see life again as well. The races of Men are returning to it, hoping to rekindle its long-extinguished flame.

A royal child is a symbol of hope. It’s a moment of celebration for everyone.

“I think a bit of rest for the remainder of the day will do you some good,” says Lena softly. “We will prepare some ointments that you can use to relieve any aches or pains. Bloating is likely, and as the body makes room for the little one, you’ll have some discomfort.” Lena taps her bottom lip and then turns to Petal. “We’ll need to prepare some liquid supplements to take with meals.”

“Of course,” nods Petal. She begins packing up their supplies.

Lena squeezes your shoulder before letting go. “I’ll come check on you in a few days. Bring a few things with me. We’ll talk more then, preferably with the father present.”

“Yes,” you reply, absently rubbing your belly. “That would be best.”

The two women bow and depart quickly, leaving you alone in the royal bedchambers. The room is quiet and your breathing sounds too loud in such a large space. With hands clasped, you twist them over and over again in agitation, needing to move but unsure of how to quell the anxiousness. It’s stubborn like the deep roots of a tree that refuse to give up the dirt.

How are you to tell Thorin? How do you approach this when you rarely see him. It’s just one more thing to burden him with. Perhaps, if you dropped a few hints? Covertly toss the pregnancy in his direction and see if he picks it up?

You know deep in your gut that you shouldn’t worry over this. Thorin will be happy. He will be.

You spend the rest of the day as Lena instructs. Reclining, resting, and reading. Thorin is supposed to return tonight for evening meal. Whenever he promises an early arrival, Thorin means it. Rarely does he make promises he cannot keep.

As dinner is brought in, and the table is set, Thorin walks through the door. There is a bit of soot on his cheek like he’s been in the mines, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. When he notices you, he beams, and there is so much love there that you simply want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“My love,” he says, moving toward you swiftly. The embrace nearly sweeps you off your feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead and draws back.

“You’re filthy,” you laugh, looking him over. Thorin has been in the mines.

Thorin shrugs sheepishly. “I had to help dig. Structural issues.”

“Wash your hands at least,” you playfully tease.

“Not interested in eating a bit of dirt?” he asks with a laugh.

“Go,” you giggle, pushing away from him.

Thorin disappears and you take a seat at the table. He reappears a few minutes later, face and hands clean. The clothes he wore before are also gone, replaced with simple, fresh attire. He takes a seat next to you, gaze darting over the spread.

“I’m starving,” you begin because it’s true even though you’ve been consistently snacking all day. “It’s like I’m eating for two.”

First hint dropped.

Thorin laughs, and the sound is sweet like honey cake. “I promise, love. You couldn’t eat for me. My appetite is insatiable.” When Thorin says insatiable, he pointedly glances at you with a heated stare.

You perfectly understand his meaning.

You attempt a different angle. “I’ve also been having the oddest cravings,” you say, starting to load your plate.

“What do you mean?” asks Thorin before he pops a chunk of bread into his mouth.

“Different foods. Things I’d never eat together otherwise.” It is common knowledge that pregnant women will often crave highly specific foods and food combinations.

But Thorin doesn’t appear to pick up on the hint. He frowns, then shrugs, continuing to eat without making a comment.

Sighing, you pick up one the freshly made rolls. “I think these buns need a bit more time in the oven.” You stare hard at Thorin, mentally sending message after message. “What do you think?”

Thorin glances up at you then down at his own plate that has five of them. “I think they’re perfect but if you’d like them more done, I’ll let the kitchen know in the morning.”

“Thorin,” you say flatly.

“Yes, my love?” His head slightly tilts, and his gaze becomes pointed. He’s starting to pick up on your agitation. You don’t mean to be cross, but you were hoping that he’d figure it out so you wouldn’t have to tell him outright.

Setting the roll down on your plate, you promptly divert the conversation to a different hint. “We’ve never talked about where we’d put the nursery.”

Thorin’s brow rises toward his hairline. “I didn’t think you wanted to discuss that until we crossed that hurdle?”

Does he hear himself? Does he understand the context of what’s coming out of his mouth?

“You’re right, Thorin. I didn’t want to discuss it until we needed to.” You repeat his words back to him, slightly leaning toward him as you speak to emphasize the point.

Still, it brushes right over his head.

“Some of the advisory council members have brought up financial concerns. Rebuilding Erebor is important but the needs of the people are pressing. Food. Proper housing.” Thorin begins slicing into the chunk of roast on his plate.

Maybe you are going to have to say it outright.

Licking your lips, you ignore Thorin’s change in conversation. “I did receive a few inquiries about baby clothes. Offers to knit a few items,” you shrug.

“That’s kind of them,” says Thorin slowly. “But why—” he pauses, “you’re not—"

Thorin’s features suddenly shift, becoming almost unreadable. His jovial expression is gone, replaced with a stern consideration.

Are you going to have to shout it at the top of your lungs?

Thorin’s lips part. Promptly shuts. Opens again. “Are you…” he begins but does not finish.

You start to nod, urging him on.

Finally, like light igniting in the dark, Thorin’s face transforms into one of shock, then pure joy.

“Truly?”

“Found out just this morning.”

Thorin abruptly stands, pushing himself and his chair away from the table. He is moving toward you, grasping your hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss your fingers.

“Why not say anything?” he asks.

“I did,” you laugh. “Many times.”

Thorin momentarily frowns before his mouth turns up into a soft smile. “Clever.”

“You’ve been busy and I was unsure of how to tell you.”

Thorin’s thumbs rub little circles over your knuckles. “You can always tell me anything. Whatever is happening. Whatever is on your mind. I wish to hear it.” He kisses the tops of your hands. “Especially something like this.”

“Are you happy?” you ask, voice cracking at the end.

“Happiest I’ve ever been.”

Thorin pulls you up from your chair, his large, muscled arm sliding behind your waist. He drags you to him, his eyelids lowering seductively, all gentleness leaving him to be replaced with desire.

“Are you up for a bit of celebrating?” he asks.

“What kind of celebrating?”

“The kind that landed us here.”

“Thorin,” you gasp, lightly slapping his chest. He snatches your wrist, kisses the pulse point there.

“The food can wait,” and his voice ends on a soft growl.

“Thorin,” you repeat, this time with a rasp to your tone.

He seizes it, draws you even closer. “The food can wait?”

You nod. “It can wait.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @mrsdurin @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

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retroaria · 3 months ago

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Michael Kaiser. That’s it. That’s the post.

i’m having kaiser thoughts. i’m pondering my orb, and all it’s showing me is michael kaiser. the evil voices in my head (my ask box) are taunting me (sending very nice requests) to sell my soul to michael kaiser (finally write something about him) and so here i am.

summary: random kaiser hc’s (lmk if you want more/nsfw ones)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 - aria

• thinking about how possessive he would be in a relationship. it isn’t overbearing, in the sense that he trusts you and lets you do you’re own thing. however, he’s a rather insecure man behind all that smug douchebaggery that he puts off and he has a hard time watching you interact with other men of his same stature. because truly, no matter how good he is to you, he isn’t the best person all around. there are guys out there that would be better for you and he can’t help be fear that you’ll be swept off your feet and taken from him.

• Kaiser is gentle with you. you actually turned him into a completely different person. It’s not that you’ve really changed him at his core, but you’ve opened him up to love he didn’t know before, and so he feels like he has nothing to be afraid of with you. he’s vulnerable and expressive and happy with you. he makes sure to provide that same experience for you in the relationship, making sure you always know you can go to him for anything and you don’t have to hide anything from him.

• In the beginning of the relationship, Kaiser is very protective of your privacy. He’s really afraid of the consequences that may come with the world knowing who you are and who you are to him. he’s not naive, he knows there’s bad people out there. not only that, but it’s no one else’s right to know you’re love for each other. i see him doing a soft launch and that’s it. after that he’ll post you on occasion and be a little less aggressive about hiding from paparazzi, but he still doesn’t want to share you. you’re his whole world, keyword HIS.

• kaiser LOVES intimacy. physical or emotional, he loves those sweet loving moments that come to fruition from the trust and bond the two of you have cultivated. he loves showering and taking baths with you, relishing in the gentle touches as the two of you clean each other up. they’re always filled with soft giggles and quick kisses, before drying each other off and snuggling up. he loves listening to you talk about your day, not sparing him from details you may have spared others from. telling him all the thoughts and actions you aren’t proud of, unafraid of being judged in his eyes. the vulnerability of it all makes his heart beat fast, but you’re both so trusting and in love that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

• this might be a hot take, but i feel like the concept of marriage would scare him a bit. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, because he absolutely does and already plans on it. it’s just a level of commitment that he never thought anyone would dedicate to him. he doesn’t want you to end up regretting it in the future. he doesn’t shy away from conversation about it though, he actually wants you guys to talk about it and get a feel for where you both stand. when the time comes to take that next step, he’s as ready as ever. just make sure you don’t break his heart please (or i’ll find you bro.)

• dates with kaiser can either be extravagant and classy or they can be chill and sweet, he can do both. sometimes he wants to take you to the nicest restaurants he can fine, see you all dolled up looking absolutely stunning for him, and pamper you the entire night. other times he just wants the two of you to do something fun and spontaneous, would take you to a fair and win you all the stuffed animals you want, or would take you on a stroll around the city, letting you frolick through the shops while he holds all your bags for you. he’s such a gentleman either way.

• kaiser loves being domestic with you. doing the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, making dinner, he loves it. in those moments he finds himself wishing they would last forever, just the two of you existing in each others presence, he has nothing to worry about.

moon divider- @strangergraphics-archive

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i-like-what-this-says-about-you · 3 months ago

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every episode of house md part 3

high school teacher: alright class settle down, it is time for chemistry!

the students moan

random student #1: please mr roberts can we just use this period to do homework

mr roberts: no, chemistry is important, you see-

mr roberts starts choking

random student #2: oh my god! someone get him some water!

mr roberts stops choking

mr roberts: sorry about that folks, moving on-

mr roberts falls to the ground, unconscious

*** house and wilson are walking together

house: wilson, my guy, you are wearing a nice tie. you must be cheating on your wife

wilson: you’re just trying to find a way to compliment my tie without seeming nice. so, thank you. anyway, i have this case. high school chemistry teacher keeps randomly choking on nothing.

house: so? he has anderson’s choking disease

wilson: no, it doesn’t only occur when he’s sleeping. not anderson’s.

there is a brief moment of homoerotically staring and grinning at each other

house: ok, i’ll take it.

he grabs the file

***

house: ok people, new case. man can’t stop choking!

cameron: hmmm… can’t be andersons…

foreman: could it be cancer in his throat?

house: that only shows up for a minute or two every few days?

chase: longmedicalnameadocis!

house: good thinking, test for that, in the mean time start him on fancydrugname.

*** in the clinic

house sighs, pops a few vicodin, and enters a clinic room

clinic patient: my knees hurt.

house takes a good hard look at the patient. he’s ancient. every inch of him is wrinkled. his head has only a few surviving white hairs. next to him is who house assumes is his daughter.

house (sarcastically): hhhmmm… now this is a hard one.

daughter: please take him seriously! just a week ago it seemed like he was way younger! he had barely any wrinkles, he was running 4 miles a day- he was healthy and fit! something’s up!

the patient coughs and begins to struggle to breathe. he takes out an inhaler.

daughter: a week ago he didn’t need an inhaler. now he’s using it multiple times a day!

house (not sarcastically this time): interesting… i want to run a few tests.

*** in the office

foreman: fancydrugname made him worse.

house: chase you idiot you were way wrong.

chase: 😣😣🥺🥺

house writes the new symptoms on the board

foreman: i think it’s neurological.

house: okay, what neurological disorder could cause this?

foreman thinks in contemplation

cameron: insertanotherlongmedicalnamehere?

chase: there’s no treatment for that.

house: wrong. we can do surgery

foreman: surgery?

house: take out part of his brain

*** cuddy’s office

cuddy (angry): NO! you cannot cut into this man’s brain with no proof! it’s a rare condition, most people with it die and this treatment has never been used for the condition before!

house: i have proof.

cuddy: oh really?

house: yes. i think it will work and i’m always right.

cuddy shakes her head

cuddy: no.

*** in the clinic, same patient as before

daughter: please tell me you know what’s wrong with him.

the patient has a bag of almonds in his hand. he is shoveling handfuls of them into his mouth

house: jeez, that’s a lot of almonds- **epiphany moment** house: i have to go!!

daughter: what? what about my dad!!!

house (from out the clinic room): get him to stop eating all those damn almonds!!

*** mr roberts’ room

house: have you been exposed to large amounts of almonds recently?

mr roberts: yes, my son just started working at an almond factory.

house: aha! my proof!

house leaves, leaving mr roberts confused and in distress

*** mr roberts gets the surgery and is cured

once again, wilson and house are walking together. wilson is eating almonds

wilson: want one?

#well this got long #gregory house #house md #hatecrimes md #hate crimes md #hilson #dr house #james wilson #greg house #lisa cuddy #robert chase #eric foreman #allison cameron

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lowkeyrobin · 4 months ago

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UMBRELLA! BEN ; a million timelines

summary ; you'll always end up with one certain face in every universe and timeline

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; ben isn't dead, umbrella! ben in fact bc I love that dork sm, viktor is already transitioned the whole way through, random word vomit

track ; not a lot, just forever, adrianne lenker

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

It seemed in every timeline, you'd be semy straight back to Ben's side.

You were intertwined, sewn together, in fact.

In 2019, you were reunited with him after Sir Reginald Hargreeves' death. You hadn't seen each other since you were kids, it'd been years.

You didn't have any special powers like the Hargreeves' did, you were just their normal friend who lived next door above the laundromat. You came back to town for other reasons, but when you heard the news, you had to go see them.

Your eyes first landed on Viktor, his short hair completely different from his old, long, luscious locks. You immediately smiled, wrapping him in a solemn hug, congratulating him yet showing remorse and compassion over his dad's timely demise.

You went through the rest of the siblings, other than Five, as he'd gone missing all those years ago.

Then up came Ben.

You could feel the soft look on his face as he looked at you, finally being reunited after all this time. He was by far your favorite of the academy, holding a special spot in your heart.

It wasn't just that his cool tentacle shit that drew you to him. He was a total dork, and you adored it. He always found a way to make you smile, he noticed the smallest of things, he was so sweet and compassionate. He could light up a room like a flashlight in the dark.

He wrapped you in a hug, spinning you around in joy.

"Oh my God, Y/n!"

"Ben!"

Your smiles were unmatched, the other siblings watching with little smiles, nostalgia crashing against their mental shores. They loved you too, but they also loved seeing their two favorite people together again.

"God, why are you here?"

"Came back for some stuff, but also for you guys. Sorry about your dad"

"It was coming-"

"He was murdered"

"Luther!"

You softly chuckle, hiding your face in his shoulder, enjoying the sweet dopamine rush infecting your brain.

You were stuck to Ben by the hip, almost literally, as you landed on cold, wet concrete on April 28th, 1960. You share a panicked look, calling for any of the other Hargreeves' before eventually giving in to failure.

At least you still had each other.

You spent the next three years thinking the others were dead and that you were permanently trapped in the sixties. You worked in a bar, and he worked right beside you. You both didn't understand that without degrees, you were hired, but it was much better than nothing.

Then you were reunited with Klaus, then Five, then the others.

But of course, some weird fuck up in the space time continuum forced the world to attempt to kill itself, again.

And once again, you stood behind Ben as he unleashed the tentacles from his internal organs to protect you and his family.

Good God, what did you do to get wrapped up in all this?

That lead you all astray again back in 2019, thankfully, but some other superpowered people had taken the Umbrella Academy's place. The Sparrow Academy.

But once again, you were right by Ben's side.

You were at his side during the first Kugelblitz, travelling with Five and Klaus to meet Klaus' already deceased mom, and at the end-of-the-world wedding between Luther and Sloane.

You now sit at the bar at the Hotel Obisidian, sipping on mocktails as you watch Luther and Sloane break it down on the dance floor. A tune calls your name, screaming for you and Ben to jump out there.

Just Like Heaven by The Cure.

"Oh my God, we loved The Cure when we were little!" You giggle, only a buzz directing the slight slur in your words.

Ben smiles, "We did"

"Come on" You quickly set your glass down on the counter, looking over at Ben, who hasn't moved, giving you a raised eyebrow. "C'mon, Ben"

He looks over at Five who rolls his eyes, sipping on some sort of champagne. Ben gives into your pleads, setting his glass down to go with you.

You join Luther and Sloane, and Klaus and Viktor, on the dance floor, allowing the song to consume you inside out. You jump about, singing along to the lyrics as you hold each other's hands.

Colorful lights splash upon your faces, blinding you for milliseconds as they pass you by.

Five, now accompanied by Diego and Lila, watches you two from afar. He lightly smiles, enjoying the smiles on your faces as you await to be disintegrated into dust as the world crumbles around you.

"Even in every jump across the space time continuum and in every alternate timeline that will somehow find a way to end, they're always at the end together" Five observes, glancing over at the couple, elbows rested against the bar behind him.

Lila gives him a cringed look, not understanding a word of the gibberish he'd just spoken. Diego sighs and shakes his head, taking a bite out of a bologna sandwich he made for himself.

"It's cute," Five clarifies.

"Why don't you get out there?" Diego asks Five, "The world is about to end. Enjoy it, Ebenezer Scrooge McDuck"

Five chuckles. "Yeah, let me go enjoy the world fading into dust at every touch." He sets his glass down on the bar, deciding to go join the enthusiastic group of mentally dead Hargreeves' plus you.

You and Ben, even as the song switches, continue to dance together, creating a little circle with Klaus and Viktor so Sloane and Luther could have their little alone time. Eventually, the whole family is on the dance floor, enjoying their final hours on Earth.

After a while, you crash on the floor beneath the couch, mindlessly listening to Luther, Five, Diego, Klaus, and Viktor drunkenly sing along to Seal's Kiss From A Rose. Allison, Sloane, and Lila enjoy the show, singing along from the couch.

Five, noticing you two were slumped over, half dead, calls out to you. "Hey, lovebirds! Get up here!"

You and Ben immediately look down toward each other, your feet touching one another's, giggling like little kids as you realize what Five had called you. You crawl up to your hands and knees, then rise to your feet, joining the brothers up on the little karaoke stage.

"Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey!"

It was true, in the end of each timeline, in each version of the world ending, you and Ben would end up side by side. Nothing, not even theories and paradoxes, and jumps across the fabric of the universe could separate you.

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #ben hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #justin min x reader

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heathermason6060 · 4 months ago

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Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings

Warnings: serial killer daryl, rough smut, inconsiderate smut, NO noncon, stalking, stealing, mentions of killing

Summary: Daryl can't decide if he wants to kill you, or fuck you. Switches between Daryl's and Readers POV.

Notes: SO SORRY ITS LONG This was really fun but really challenging to write, I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but that's hard when making him a serial killer lol! I'm making this a two pt, with the reader finding out in the next part.

Some days Daryl thought his luck might run out. He'd been lucky for too long. As far as he knew, no one suspected a thing. Every time he'd go out “hunting”, no matter how long he was gone for, he'd always managed to bring back something. Deer, rabbits, squirrels when prey was scarce.

It was easier now that the world had ended to keep it a secret. No threat of cops catching on, no more cameras on every street corner, no need to try to erase every possible trace.

The only thing he found to prove difficult had been finding a place to keep his trophies. He didn't really have a preference, hair, a tooth, or a piece of clothing, it was something he didn't understand the meaning of but something he did each time. He kept it in his room in the vent above his bed, behind a few boxes of books. The week prior he took it down to put the wedding ring of a man who tried attacking Rick out on their supply run, he’d had to restrain himself and keep the stabbing to a minimum because of Rick's presence.

He found himself growing uncomfortably interested in you. A revelation that he really, really didn't like. You were off limits, you were one of Rick's closest friends, you'd been there way too long. And you clearly hadn't done anything deserving of the things he daydreamed about doing to you, unlike the victims he’d killed before.

The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they came back. His hands around your throat, the way your eyes would tear up as you struggled against him and the fact someone you trusted so much was the one ending your life.

His eyes followed you over the flames of the campfire as you took your plates and went inside. Aaron had hosted a little get together in his yard in Alexandria, cooking dinner for everyone in celebration of the newest addition to the town. Some nobody he found out there on their own, who jumped at the idea of joining a large group of people.

If Daryl had to kill you, he’d keep a lock of your hair.

He couldn't stop staring at it as you went inside. His mind flooded with flashes of pictures of it, his hand in it, stroking your soft locks before grabbing a fistful and putting a knife to your throat. The way you'd squeal and beg, squirm against him as he presses the edge firmer into your skin.

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away after you disappeared in the house you shared with Maggie and a few others.

It was like you were practically begging him to follow you.

Five different times that week you'd gone out on your own to ‘clear your head’, whatever the hell that meant.

First time he heard Glenn mention to someone that you'd just gone out beyond the walls, he wanted to follow you. The idea was far too tempting. But he didn't, he knew damn well he couldn't trust himself with you all alone, no one to hear you scream.

The fantasies he had begun to form disgusted him. He didn't just go out and kill any random human he felt like, he had to have some sort of rules or else things would get out of hand real fast. If he were to get caught, it needed to be someone Rick wouldn't think twice about him killing. Some raider, or any kind of piece of shit who'd be a threat to their group. He needed to have a fallback, worst case scenario one of Alexandria caught him.

Second rule, none of his people. Ever. His morals were questionable, if he had it his way he'd go out and hunt down any human he came across outside those walls.

But never his people. In a hypocritical way he did care about them, in the same way that any normal sane human being would care about their family. He could never even dream about hurting any of them, he’d rather die. But they had to earn that place in his heart.

It was a wonder you hadn't been killed by anyone else yet. The way you walked through the woods with your light pink sweater, leaving tracks in the leaves that a blind man could follow, and that fucking humming. He could easily track you with his eyes closed for miles with the way you kept humming.

You'd gone into an old shack in the backyard of an abandoned trailer.

A part of him felt angry then, how were you so stupid? If it had been someone else following you, and not Daryl, who knows what they'd do to you? And you'd have no idea until it was too late.

He paused at the thought. If he wasn't careful, that's exactly what would happen.

He followed you home about half a mile behind the entire time. When you were at the road that led to the gates he turned back, deciding it was the perfect time to go hunting.

The crossbow on his back weighed heavier than it normally did as he slunk down into the underbrush at the forest's edge. He hadn't decided on what animal yet, but the frustration and confusion alone caused by you made it pretty easy to guess.

He wiped the blood from the molar before he tucked it in the box in his vent, and decided to pay Maggie and Glenn a visit.

The house was completely empty, so he let his curiosity get the better of him.

Your room was pretty.

Your bed, a whopping full size mattress, made his pull out look like a military cot. You had an array of paintings on your walls, he remembered some of them. As soon as you got your own room in Alexandria you went out on runs with Glenn and Maggie just so you could decorate it.

His eyes went from painting to painting, then to your dresser. You kept it unexpectedly neat for someone who behaved so sloppily in the woods. Your journal, a small glass box you kept your sentimental jewelry in, a few makeup products. What drew his attention was the jewelry box, he could see the pair of pearl earrings you used to constantly wear. You never took them out back then, not even to sleep.

Orange bled into a dark purple against his face and he blinked, coming back to himself in front of your bedroom window. A strange confusion twisted in his gut when he realized he'd just been standing there, staring out your window for so long the sun had set.

You weren't stupid, or blind.

You'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Daryl had been taking interest in you.

There'd been several times in Alexandria where you'd be busy doing something, turn around and see him standing off in the distance, staring at you like fuckin’ Michael Myers.

If you'd go on runs and he came with you, you'd often glance at him to see him already looking. He'd always look away, pull out a cigarette and act like he wasn't just burning holes in the back of your head.

You'd come to the obvious conclusion that he had a crush on you.

What else could it be? You'd always thought he was really hot, men like that were hard to come by. Quiet, observant, strong as hell, he’d do anything for the people he loved and he wasn't an annoying pervert who'd suddenly turn into an asshole if you rejected him. Not that you'd ever reject him.

Each time you caught him staring your heart would race and you'd try to give a friendly smile, but apparently he was too shy for that. Which sucked, because of all the men you could have the hots for, Daryl was the most unapproachable and intimidating.

“Hey, have you guys seen an earring laying around anywhere?” You asked at dinner, glancing around the table. Carol had invited the inner group over for dinner, she'd made pasta and cookies.

You could never get enough of Carol's cookies.

“What's it look like?” Maggie asked beside Glenn, the two of them looking at you thoughtfully from across the table.

“Just a pearl earring. The one's I always used to wear.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, looking at the other faces to see if any of them had a split second look of recognition.

“Not that I can remember.” Glenn cleared his throat and shook his head after swallowing a heavy mouthful of alfredo pasta.

“I'll keep an eye out for it.” Rick tipped his head to you, nodding slightly before continuing eating. You smiled in return, knowing if anyone was likely to find it, it’d be him.

He'd grown very fond of you recently, the image of you had shifted in his head from another person he was responsible for, to a dear friend he could trust with his life. Mostly due to the way you were with Carl, always doing your best to be a figure of comfort to him. Not as close as he'd grown to Michonne, but more of a young aunt who takes too much interest in art and jewelry.

“I haven't seen you wear those in a while.” Carl spoke up.

You sighed when no one had any leads. “Yeah, I know. Just been worried about losing them, they're pretty important.” You took the last bite of your cookie, dusting your hands together before speaking again. “It's really weird, they were both in my jewelry box last time I checked, but this morning there was only one.”

“You think someone stole one?” Carol's voice held a tight tone of suspicion, her eyes narrowing so slightly you could've missed it if you blinked.

“No, I mean, no one goes in our house besides you all. And I know none of you care about a single earring.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek in deep thought.

You felt that familiar sensation of warmth on your cheek, like someone had a hot iron near you.

You turned your head to your left, met with Daryl's eyes from his spot at the end of the other side of the table.

To your surprise he didn't look away like he usually did. He kept his gaze steady, his elbows propped on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth.

You didn't feel butterflies like usual, and your cheeks burned for a different reason. For the first time you were the one to look away.

Rick had put together a group to scout out further into town for more resources. The usual suspects, Aaron, Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl and of course, you.

He hadn't made up his mind on if he was glad or not. He'd been stupid, feeding the sparks of his mild obsession, and that pretty little pearl earring he kept in his jeans pocket felt like twenty pounds of red-hot metal.

They'd set up camp for the night in the woods right on the outskirts of town. Abraham had set up mediocre sound traps around the small clearing, and Daryl couldn't help but snort when you walked right into one and the cans failed to clash together.

Fire was a dumb idea too.

Daryl had started to remember why he preferred being alone. Aaron was too used to the safety of the Alexandria walls.

Abraham told him he'd better put it out after dark, also throwing in a passive aggressive insult, and Aaron stuttered out an agreement.

It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes off you. He sat across the fire from you, watching you smile and laugh and joke with Rosita like you were two young girls in summer camp.

As the flames of his fixation on you grew, so did his confliction.

He had no problems with you. He'd barely even paid attention to you before you'd arrived at Alexandria, you were just another background character in his story that wouldn't make a difference if you died or not. But you'd grown close to Rick and Maggie, two people he cared about. So by extension, he cared about you too.

He wasn't sure when it started. It kind of just happened over time.

He was always an outside observer, keeping details of each person he knew on a list in his mind.

But you, he couldn't think of any reason you'd be so special. It was obvious you were smoking hot, he wasn't blind. But he'd seen his share of beautiful women. Maybe it was the fact you seemed to always have luck on your side, you could go out singing in the woods and never run into any trouble.

If the two of you weren't careful, that luck might change tonight.

Abraham and Aaron were busy looking at a map of the town and figuring out what pathing they'd take in the morning. Sasha and Rosita were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their guns and talking about meaningless things, he didn't care enough to listen.

You were the odd man out. Just like him.

Sitting in the dirt on the other side of the fire, fidgeting with a stick in front of you while you thought.

He could tell you knew he was staring at you again. And judging by the way you were forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the stick you were drawing circles in the dirt with, you were trying your best not to look up.

He didn't expect you to look up. He almost let the confusion show on his face, caught off guard by his incorrect prediction. He saw the way your cheeks flushed even though the light of the fire made your face glow orange. He flared his nostrils at the sight, why'd you have to make it so damn hard?

His heart dropped when you suddenly stood and walked off into the woods.

No one had even noticed, too wrapped up in their conversations. Another thing that succeeded in his self restraint slipping away.

Daryl followed after counting three minutes in his head. He'd really hoped you'd come back before then, praying you'd be lucky enough to slip back through the trees before he got to his feet.

It was dark in the woods away from the campfire.

He could hear you a few yards ahead, your boots crunching lightly on leaves despite your attempts at being quiet.

He kept his distance, just following the sounds of your footsteps and the slight silhouette of your body, the moonlight seeping through the treetops barely grazing your hair and shoulders.

This was way too natural to him.

Now out here you were just like any other victim, but it brought him comfort knowing there'd be no way he could hurt you and get away with it. The two of you disappear off into the woods at night and only Daryl comes back? He might think the people around the fire made stupid decisions sometimes, but they weren't stupid enough to not be suspicious of him.

Maybe he could say walkers got you.

He clenched his jaw when he realized he was at such a desperate point that an idea that stupid even crossed his mind.

“Daryl?”

The sound of your sweet voice made him physically recoil, his hand falling from the knife in his belt that he didn't realize he'd been gripping.

He could barely make out your figure in front of him. You were facing him, maybe six feet away, standing underneath a large pine tree.

There was no use in hiding. Your eyes would've adjusted enough by now to see the shape of him.

Finally, he answered, his voice coming out in more of a growl than a human speaking. “Shouldn't be out here alone.”

There was silence before you filled it with the crunching of your footsteps moving towards him.

His body tensed as you drew closer, now able to make out the pretty features of your face. An image of you flashed in his head, blood running down your nose and lips, tears in your eyes, your fingernails raking down his wrist.

“I just needed a minute to clear my head.” You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren't out in the dead of night stomping around loud enough for any walkers within a five mile radius to hear.

Daryl said nothing, his eyes fixed on your face as you slowly crept near. Although he hated not being able to read your expressions, he was thankful for it, because he was hanging on by a thread and if you even showed the slightest hint of fear, he'd snap. He wouldn't be able to resist if your lips trembled, or if your eyes widened and you stuttered a single apprehensive syllable.

But as his eyes adjusted even further, his mouth ran dry and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That would've been less of a stun than the look you were giving him, standing only a few inches away from him.

Your plan had worked. You'd been plotting it ever since Rick paired you up in that group, the silent attention Daryl had been giving you ended up driving you mad. You found it absurd that all it took was a few stares to make you feel like he was some A list celebrity giving you special treatment.

Maybe it was a little stupid the way you went about it, but the curiosity eating you up inside didn't have you thinking straight. Walking off into the woods was one thing, but at night? In woods so thick you could barely see your hand outstretched in front of you? Blindly trekking through the leaves in the mere hope that he'd follow you and make a move?

You hadn't had sex in way too long.

Yeah, that was it.

That's why you were making the decisions of a dumb bitch in a horror movie. But at least it was Daryl you were after, you knew you'd be fine if you ran into trouble.

You thought you'd be fine.

Emboldened by the darkness and privacy you'd secured for yourself, you approached him. Your heart hammered against your chest, and you had to bite your lip to keep from panicking, the fear of rejection or a humiliating scolding almost made you change your mind.

Your eyes strained in the dark to make out the features of his face.

He looked almost expressionless, but there was something in his eyes, something that had your steady breathing turning into shuddering breaths coming from your mouth. His gaze looked like a textbook example of ‘dark’. Your heart felt like it was literally about to explode, and when you saw his upper lip barely twitch, you let out an accidental sigh, too exhilarated to feel embarrassed with yourself.

He was right in front of you then. You'd crossed every single inch of ground that separated you, and you could smell his signature scent of cigarettes, smoke, those spicy little mint leaves he'd chew on for his oral fixation. There was a hint of male musk as well, just barely there after a day walking outside in the woods.

You could see his chest rising and falling more dramatically now.

He was still dead silent, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked over every inch of him. You'd been biting your lip so hard it started to ache, and so you released it, your mouth opening to speak, you yourself unaware of what you planned to say.

The sound of Abraham’s whistle signal breaking through the thick silence had you feeling like you fell out of a plane. You sucked in a gasp and pulled your hand back from where it hung inches away from Daryl's chest.

Daryl's posture snapped into something so different it gave you whiplash. He was Daryl Dixon again, the sight so drastic you couldn't help but feel unnerved.

He whistled back before looking at you once more. It was still too dark to tell if he looked relieved or disappointed. “C'mon.”

Keeping his distance from people had never been a problem for Daryl. But what you did that night had permanently altered something inside him.

He didn't know if he wanted to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both.

You became his new favorite pastime.

When everyone fell asleep that night, he sat with his back against the same tree he'd been sitting under for hours, his eyes keeping their unwavering stance on your sleeping form. All the while he imagined hundreds of different things to do to you.

His mind kept going between strangling the life out of you, watching it bleed from your eyes. Or the other one, the image where he was burying his face between your legs with his tongue and teeth sucking and nipping, licking till it became too much and you begged him to stop.

He carefully planned out his next encounter with you over the course of days. He acted it out the night of a “party” at Aaron and Eric’s house, so focused on his plan he didn't even know what they were having a party for.

Daryl didn't care if you caught him staring anymore. That night in the woods he could practically smell how bad you wanted it, it didn't matter to him anymore if he disregarded all basic manners.

The last time there was a party in Alexandria was when Rick's group joined. Daryl hadn't gone to that one, the feeling of being an outdoor cat watching indoor cats eating their fancy wet food too much for him.

But he'd do anything to continue this little game with you. It was new, and there were no rules.

For the most part he was his usual self, sticking to the side and keeping enough casual conversation to blend in. The perfect balance between himself, and the part of him that imagined in great detail all the sounds you'd make.

He took a sip of the beer Aaron forced in his hands, his eyes looking back to you.

You looked like a fresh cut of meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into.

The dress you wore hugged every single piece of your body, fitting you in a way that was almost poetic, but it was modest enough that it didn't draw unwanted attention. You were beside Rick most of the night, happily chatting and drinking champagne in a way that oozed confidence.

Every now and then you'd look at him, and he'd savor all the details of the way your confidence faded into something he didn't have a word for. You looked nervous, but hungry, like someone reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the pelt of a tamed predator.

Daryl wanted to bite that hand, hold it in his harsh jaws while your other one stroked his fur.

You played your part well, after most of the formal greetings and casual conversation had been taken care of you slipped out the back door.

He counted three minutes in his head before making his exit, which was stopped by Carol.

“Leaving already, huh?” She gave him a knowing smirk, unaware that her assumption he was just bored was incorrect. He'd never been more entertained.

“Yeah, shit ain't for me anyway.” He played along with a nonchalant shrug, pulling a lone cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Done enough already just by comin’.”

Carol nodded, that smirk still on her face as she looked at the people standing around making friendly conversation. “Don't get into any trouble. Don't wanna help you hide bodies again.”

Daryl snorted, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. If there was anyone he'd come to for help hiding bodies it definitely would've been her. “Yeah yeah. Night Carol.” He gave her a pat on her shoulder before turning sideways to fit through the cracked door.

He hadn't expected you to be so good at this. He'd been prepared to walk down the steps of the porch and see you standing down the sidewalk, waiting for him like he was your prom date.

You weren't too good, though. He found you rather easily. The bottom of your heels left slight little indents in the dirt, leading between the houses, down the street, and right up to the sidewalk in front of your house.

His heart rate sped up a little when he remembered that house was completely empty, all but you.

Or so he thought.

You weren't anywhere to be seen. He checked every room, growing increasingly irritated when each one turned up nothing. He was about to give up and just head home when he checked your room one last time.

Something caught his eye, a blade of grass, his eyes followed the bits of grass to see those black heels sitting under your dresser, taking the place of your boots.

You tried to keep from anxiously picking at your fingernails as you stood behind the thick underbrush at the woodline, watching for any sign of movement along the outside walls.

There was a spot at the back wall near a platform no one really watched anymore, which is where the both of you had gone to leave without being seen.

You were beginning to think maybe you'd read him wrong. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered that look he gave you at the party, it was impossible to describe. He was lacking any sort of expression, but in his eyes held this darkness that made swallowing your champagne hard when you'd seen it. The way he leaned against the wall near a group of people, his eyes steady and fixed on you, you could only decipher that as a look of craving for something he'd been wanting for a long time.

If you hadn't been looking at the Alexandrian walls, you would've missed it. For a split second you saw a flash of dark clothing, even darker hair, and you darted from your position behind the thickets.

Thankfully it wasn't as dark as that one night.

The sun had dipped down below the trees and out of sight, but it left just enough light for the sky to be a dark blue. The full moon made it even brighter, and soon you were in one of the houses right outside Alexandria.

You stood in the living room and waited. You'd already checked the house for walkers before this, not keen on the idea of a growling monstrosity of green and purple flesh ruining whatever might happen there when Daryl arrived.

If he arrived.

You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't coming. The heavy front door was open just a few inches, you'd wanted to be able to see him approach the house, to take him by surprise, maybe giving him the same fright he'd given you countless times.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy. You felt that feeling again, like you were in danger, the feeling you might get being stalked by a large cat.

There was a breeze behind you, and you recognized it as a draft from the back window being opened.

Although it was happening behind you, your mind raced as you played out the scene. His hands bracing against the walls on either side of the window, his first leg dipping over like a spider emerging from its tunnel.

The tap of a boot meeting the wood floor under the window, so light and careful you almost didn't hear it. A second foot, he was in the house, only across the room from you. You held your breath as the footsteps drew near, slow, deliberate, you could tell just by the timing of his steps he was approaching you like a leopard closing in on a wounded deer. Confident, patient, nearly sadistic.

The feeling of his breath on your bare shoulder sent chills through your body and goosebumps down your arms. It was cold and barely there, you felt like if you turned around you'd be met with an empty house.

His fingers were just as light as his breath, tracing the thin dress strap over your shoulder, down and to the middle of your spine.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Daryl could be this confident in this way. He acted like every antagonist in a romance novel, dark and self-assured with every move he made.

You felt yourself relaxing as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling the leather of his vest on your skin, as well as the buttons on his black shirt.

The feeling of his hand snaking over your shoulder and up to your neck succeeded in sending every last drop of blood in your body down between your legs. You were fully prepared for the best slow, deep, mind-blowing sex of your life, but that quickly changed when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

It wasn't a firm and sexy squeeze, it was a ‘wait that's actually way too tight’ squeeze.

Your eyes shot back open but you tried to keep your cool, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab at his wrist.

Apparently, Daryl didn't like that.

He suddenly had your back pressed against the wall of the living room with movements so quick and precise it made your head spin. You looked up at his face, lit with a dim blue light from the windows, searching for any signs that would be cause for panic.

He decided to give you that reason you were looking for, and wrapped his hand around your neck again.

For once, Daryl wasn't fighting some internal battle on if he should kill you or not.

He'd made the decision as soon as he crept in the window and saw you standing in the living room, facing the front door and biting at your nails.

That decision wasn't final, though, you had the power in your hands to change his mind.

Hopefully you'd be as lucky as you always were.

He looked down at your face as he kept his one handed grip on your throat, burning the image in his mind. Your eyes were wide and full of this otherworldly beautiful fear, so much uncertainty it made his already hard cock twitch.

Your hands were still on his wrist, as if it gave you some sort of control, something he found endearing. You still trusted him, you still thought you had a chance to regain the control you thought you had this whole time.

“This what you wanted?” He breathed, looking from your eyes to your lips. Your face had turned a shade darker from his grip, your lips turning a pretty hue of red. “Wanted me to hunt you down, and then what? Huh?”

He watched for your reaction, waiting to see how you'd play the hand you'd been dealt, and to his pleasant surprise you managed to nod.

Daryl's hand loosened just enough to send the blood back to your head and you sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a trembling whimper.

His lips twitched into a soft smirk, and he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You kissed him hungrily, swallowing the growl from his throat as your bare knee pressed against the aching bulge in his jeans. You moved it in firm circles, and he decided that earned a returned gesture.

He used his knee to roughly spread your thighs before giving you the same treatment. The whine that drew from your lips, and the way your eyes rolled back in your head, had him letting out a deep groan. He ground his knee up between your legs, long enough to feel the wetness seeping from your panties and through his jeans.

You didn't get a chance to tell him about the bed you'd cleaned upstairs for this. Which was unfortunate, given you'd gone out of your way to do so, not that he would've cared anyway.

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, fingers finding the zipper of your dress and unceremoniously pulling it down to your ass. Your heavy breathing fueled his desire and he grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking your dress down with his other hand so fast it burned.

With the grip he had in your hair he forcefully guided you onto the floor, releasing you only to settle between your thighs and slide his hands up your bare chest to his favorite part of you.

You got that look on your face again. Lust blown pupils, breathing softly through your mouth. You still hadn't figured it out yet, that you could very easily be in danger.

This time he used both hands.

A yelp got choked from your throat as he squeezed, allowing himself a few seconds to please himself. The white of your eyes turned a light pink at the edges, a few beads of tears forming there as well, the sight making his dick throb.

He released your neck and you gasped, sucking down lungfuls of air as your head spun. You felt like you were on a carousel the way you got so dizzy.

While you regained your bearings he unbuckled his belt and took out his dick, his right hand wasting no time in giving himself relief. You took the opportunity to slide off your panties, and when he saw the glistening of your wet folds in the deep blue lighting he growled. The sinful sound earned a whimper from you, and he refocused on your face to see a pitiful look of impatience.

Daryl switched to stroking himself with his left hand, and guided the tip up through your slick folds. He savored the way you looked then, biting your bottom lip as you prepared yourself.

Instead of giving the satisfaction he pulled his tip back and carried on fucking his hand. As soon as your eyes opened and you went to protest, his free hand went right back to your neck.

He loved the way you looked then, desperate and pathetic, so full of frustration it leaked out through tears in your eyes. He squeezed hard, completely cutting off blood and air to your brain, tugging his dick faster as you squirmed.

Daryl lifted up his knee to pin one of your thighs to the floor in an effort to keep you still. He took his hand away from his cock and spit in his palm, wasting no time in getting back to touching himself.

He could've easily come right there. If he wanted to, he could keep squeezing just a few more moments, and your squirming would've stopped. He could spill his load on your stomach and effortlessly slip into his cleanup routine, but aside from the fact that part of him didn't really want to kill you, the way you orgasmed had him fucking frozen.

He hadn't even touched you, but you came.

Your eyebrows scrunched together and the leg he didn't have pinned down wrapped around his waist, your hips rolling in a desperate attempt to get friction against your clit. He relaxed his hand from your throat and you let out this bubbly whimpering sound that made his hips instinctively jerk forward.

Daryl watched you, holding his breath without realizing it. She just came from you chokin’ her. The words repeated over and over in his mind as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

He had to snatch his hand away from his dick to keep his own orgasm at bay. Not yet, not a chance in hell, not after you just did that. You deserved something for showing him the hottest thing he never would've thought possible.

His body went on autopilot. He slid down from your body, planting kisses in a trail from your neck to your naval, down to your thighs, then back up again. He buried his face between your legs, not giving you a moment's notice or time to recover. He swirled his tongue around your clit, grazing his teeth against it before sucking it between his lips.

You bucked against him like a wild horse, the stimulation so much your body didn't know how to react. It was desperate, finally getting some stimulation, but you'd just had a world shattering orgasm only seconds before. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth again, his grip tight to keep you from squirming away again.

The only control you had was your ability to choose what to do with your hands. Your fingers wrapped around clumps of his hair, winding up so tight it made his scalp burn.

He growled in response and took your clit between his teeth, holding it there as a stern warning, only letting it go when you stopped pulling so damn hard.

If he had the power to freeze time for everything but the two of you, he would've eaten your pussy for hours. But he settled on just long enough to pull another orgasm from you, sliding the tip of his tongue from your throbbing clit to the new trail of slick cum dripping out of you.

Daryl didn't give you time to recover from that one either. As soon as your cry faded out he flipped you on your back, ignoring the yelp of protest you made when your hip bones dug into the hard floor beneath you.

The only warning he gave you before shoving his cock into you was a quick slide of his swollen tip between your puffy folds. Just right enough to lubricate the head, and then he drove it in.

The way you groaned in pain from the stretch almost made him cum right there. He stilled inside you, not for you to adjust but for him to fall back away from the edge. The benefit to you was just lucky.

“Fuck.” It was the first time in a while that he'd spoken, and it was solely due to the way your hot plush walls squeezed his dick like a fist.

He should've known you'd feel like that, he hadn't seen you with a man the entire time he'd known you. His chest shuddered with his ragged breaths, and once he was ready he put both hands flat on your upper back. He put his weight there, keeping him upright so he could lift his hips and fuck his dick into you with all his weight.

Your arms slid out in front of you, your hands grasping for something, anything, you needed something to hold onto.

He wouldn't grant you that kindness either. He rested his knees back on the floor on either side of your thighs and grabbed your arms, bending them painfully behind you. When he held your wrists together at the base of your spine he started fucking you again.

Each rough snap of his hips drove a whiney moan from you. He liked that a lot, it sounded similar to a different type of crying, and he slowed down to keep his dick from getting friction burns. While you used the opportunity to squirm under him in an attempt to get more comfortable he spit on his fingers, letting it drip onto the base of his cock before changing positions once again.

He moved your arms up over your head and laid down on top of you, the weight of him pressing down on your back pushing all the air from your lungs.

Your check rubbed against the floor as he started thrusting again, this time settling on a new pace, rough and fast despite the fact he barely drew his dick out. If he wasnt fucking you so roughly, the feeling of his head resting against yours would’ve given you butterflies. You became acutely aware of the closeness, there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies, and every grunt and groan he made had his lips brushing up against the side of your ear.

He used his hips to grind his dick inside you, the new motion drawing filthy gasps and whines from you from the way his tip seemed to roll and dig into each and every crevice inside you. You'd never felt anything like that before, so used to the normal thrusting. He only pulled back about an inch, rolling his hips in a way that had you shamelessly moaning.

Daryl moved your hair from the back of your neck, pushing it up and away before leaning down to dig his teeth into the skin right at the base of your neck. He bit hard, something you didn't expect, and you cried out in pain, your body jerking under him.

It was hard for you to breathe with his full weight on your back. The heat of his body gave you uncomfortable hot flashes, adding to the sweat you'd already made. Your hair stuck to your forehead and you made an attempt to push it off, which was made difficult when he changed paces once again.

He started drawing out further now, but he'd just drive back in harder, faster, causing your body to grind roughly against the wood floor. The skin over your hip bones started to burn as well as your nipples, something you found almost agonizing but shamefully pleasurable at the same time.

He fucked you like that until you came for the third time, now around his dick. He pushed himself off your back and used his hands on your shoulders to keep you pinned down, watching as he breathed through his mouth at the way his cock disappeared inside you.

You were lucky he felt like a new position.

He waited until you stopped writhing under him from your orgasm before grabbing your thigh to turn you on your back.

Relief washed over you as the pain in your hip bones faded, only to have that relief taken from you when he grabbed your waist and yanked you up and off the floor.

Your feet didn't even touch the ground, your body swaying as you tried to get a sense of gravity, Daryl's hands tight on your sides as he took you to the couch.

All you could do at that point was relax and let him move your body for you, your hands shaking against your chest as he sat you on the arm of the couch. You let him push you down on your back, your ass and legs dangling over the arm for a few dizzying seconds before he grabbed your legs and held them around his waist.

Daryl pushed his dick back in your abused pussy and groaned, gripping your thighs tighter so he could pull you closer to him.

Your back arched almost uncomfortably, your hips angled up against his pelvis, the only part of your back that touched the cushions of the couch ended up being your shoulders. You were thankful you could at least breathe now.

Daryl was skilled at taking small bits of relief like that away.

He leaned down and bit your already sore nipple so hard and so suddenly you nearly shouted. Your hands instinctively went to grab his hair for support, but he leaned back and your fingers fell from his face.

He was proud of the new angle. Your pelvis tilted up and him fucking down into you sent him as deep as possible, and soon he began fucking you rough enough that it bordered closely on too painful.

Lucky for you, you liked it. Your walls burned pleasurably from the dragging of his dick, and he started speaking again.

“Look at you, dirty little whore.” He teased as he looked down at your abused body with a grin. Your nipples and hips were red from him fucking you into the floor, your neck equally as red from the force of his hands.

Your sweet, sweet pretty face, twisted up in a mix of pleasure and pain, your cheeks red, your lips swollen, streaks of black makeup running down your face. The sight made him seriously consider picking up drawing, because that look was, without a doubt, the best thing he'd seen in his entire life.

“Daryl,” You finally plucked the courage to speak to him and he raised a brow, impressed, he'd gotten used to you taking it so well without any complaints. “Too much.” Your voice broke as you whined, another orgasm bringing you to shambles.

He snorted as he watched you come around his dick yet again, your words asking for mercy but your body clearly asking him otherwise.

“You can take a little more, yeah?” Even he was becoming spent, his heart banging in his chest so hard he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his hands down your sweaty chest to your breasts, his dick twitching inside you at the way you cried when he pinched that same sore nipple.

“I don't know,” Another wave of shivers overcame you, eliciting exhausted, long and shaky whines. Your body couldn't process going a little under two years with little to no sexual activity, and then suddenly being mind numbingly overstimulated with the most exhilarating sex you'd ever had in your life. Each time you thought you'd gotten used to it he'd pull the rug out from under you, either by causing pain or giving you more pleasure that you knew what to do with.

As if on cue you felt his flattened hand smack the side of your face, demanding your focus. Your eyes struggled to find him, your vision fuzzy and wobbly, but when you looked up and saw him your heart fluttered.

“Look at me. C'mon.” He didn't want you passing out on him, that took all the fun away.

Despite the obvious fact he had a clear disregard for your comfort or discomfort, the way he was looking down at you sent butterflies through your stomach and chest. His pupils were so blown with lust that you couldn't see the pretty color of his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy with the approach of his orgasm. His lips, glistening from the way his tongue had darted out to wet them, parted as he huffed in ragged breaths.

You could tell if he had a picture of you like this, he'd be reacting the same way with just his hand. The thought had a moan bubbling past your lips.

“C'mon.” His hips snapped forward roughly, jerking in a break from his steady aggressive rhythm. You cried out from that, your hands finding the sides of his dangling belt to grab onto like the reins of a horse.

He'd held back his orgasm as long as he could, but the sight of you shaking and trembling under him, exhausted and overstimulated, he couldn't last much longer. Your face twisted in discomfort as he fucked you faster again, your hips suddenly doing their best to wiggle up and away from the frenzy of his dick.

You'd managed to get a few short moments of relief, sliding backwards until his dick nearly slid out.

His upper lip curled in disbelief, and he shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don't be a baby, you can take it.” You were yanked back down on his dick, the sensation of being forced back into overstimulation had you moaning in distress.

You nodded your head feverishly, setting your jaw as you looked up at the ceiling, trying your best to keep it together. But each time his hips would ram into yours it made his crotch slam against your clit, and it got too much, your breathing sped up as the panic of overstimulation set in. You really tried then, actually tried to wiggle away, and to your surprise, and much needed relief, he stilled his hips.

You were expecting him to maybe find a better way to restrain you, or put you in a position you couldn't move from, but he just used the moment to catch his breath before his demeanor changed completely.

“Hey, hey, shh.” The sweetness in his tone made you whimper, your eyes falling closed as he comforted you. It felt so fucking good, you found yourself willing to do anything and everything to feel that tenderness some more. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He cooed as your breathing slowed and your fingers stopped shaking.

Daryl released your thighs and with unexpected ease, he slipped his hands under the arch in your back, picking you up and moving so he could sit down on the couch, keeping you stuck on his cock the entire time.

The new position of being on top sent a fresh wave of pleasure flipping in the bottom of your stomach, the tip of his dick pressed right at the end of your walls.

It wasn't painful like you'd felt before when your cervix was accidentally hit too hard, quite the opposite, the feeling of pressure was so strangely good you found yourself pushing down with all your weight, desperate to feel more.

Daryl tossed his head back with a grunt at the feeling, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. His hands took their place on your hips, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin there.

He'd only switched to this position because his legs were getting unsteady, but the way you looked above him was something he didn't expect to enjoy as much as he did.

He took a second to catch his breath before he planted his boots firmly on the floor, pressing his back against the couch, and when he was perfectly leveraged he used his hands to keep your waist hovering above him, using the angle to fuck his dick up into you so hard you immediately came again.

The way you came for the fourth time made his jaw drop.

He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, taking in every second of it as he breathed through his open mouth. The way your face tensed up in twisted concentration, and then the way it dropped as you fell apart, your mouth falling open with a guttural moan that put every single goddamn porn video he'd seen to shame. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your mouth hung open in such a beautiful ‘O’, he broke.

He let go of your waist so your full weight would slam down on his cock and he came, his head tilted back against the couch, his dark hair falling away from his face.

You watched his face the same way he'd watched yours, rolling your hips down against him as you drew out every wave of the strongest orgasm you'd ever had. He looked fucking beautiful. You'd do everything in your power to get him like this again, but this time with your camera.

His orgasm literally shook him. He clenched the skin over your hips in a tight grip, using it to keep you as tight as possible against him. In those few seconds his mind went blank, almost devolving him into an animal. Those instincts wanted to keep you there on top of him, so he did, rolling his pelvis to fuck his cum deeper into you.

Daryl held you there until way after he came down from his high, only releasing his grip on your skin when he felt his dick grow soft.

You couldn't move off him if you tried. Your legs felt like you'd lost all muscle mass, same with your arms. Your body slumped forward and you fell against his chest, your nipples burning as they rubbed against his shirt and vest.

His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing your body tight against his, his hips giving a few last weak rolls up against you.

It took you both a while to catch your breath, the mouth breathing leaving the two of you uncomfortably thirsty.

He made the first move when he realized you couldn't, and he slid your body off of his into the seat beside him. He sat there for a few more seconds before he carefully put his tender dick back in his pants.

His belt buckle clinked noisily as he fastened it, his fingers shaky and inaccurate. He watched as you slowly rose to your feet and grabbed your panties, the rising and falling of his chest gradually slowing.

The sight of you struggling to climb into your dress had him feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. He chewed on the skin around his thumb, watching you slip your feet into your boots before you leaned against the wall next to the front door.

You looked at it and faltered, realizing that the two of you had been pretty loud. When you looked back to him with a concerned expression you were just met with an uncaring smirk, the man now on his feet and wiping the sweat from his face with the top of his shirt. He grabbed his crossbow from the floor and flung it over his shoulder before leading you back home.

@ophelialaufey

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lehguru · 5 months ago

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FIRST TASK + ONE PIECE MEN

how they would react to their child first task + trafalgar law, roronoa zoro, sanji

info + tw: for the people that dont know— first tasks are something that the kids do alone for their parents in japan, its usually simple stuff, like buying one or two things at the market! also, ive randomized the kids for each of them tw children — ko-fi

trafalgar d.water law thought he wasn't a protective father—when the idea of sending his three year old daughter to buy basic medical supplies alone came up, he was calm about it and agreed. bepo gave her a bag that matched her father's hat, berries to buy the supplies and a pocket den den mushi. while everyone in the crew was almost crying seeing her walk off alone, law let out a soft 'tsk' and said "all of you are overreacting. she will be fine."

it didn't take 10 minutes for him to wonder if she was really fine, where she was, if she was coming back or was still buying things—what if she never made it to the pharmacy at all. he tried to focus on other matters, but those thoughts never left him. he got up and went to leave the submarine, the crew following suit and telling him to wait.

when the door was swung open, golden eyes that mirrored his blinked up at him. she proudly showed the bag with the supplies, her lips splitting into a smile. feeling tears tickling his lower eyelid, law kneeled and gave her a tight hug. "'m so glad you're okay." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. he pulled away and patted her head. "you did well." while they walked back inside the ship, the little girl started to ramble about her adventure, making a soft smile appear on trafalgar's lips.

roronoa zoro always did things alone as a child, so when nami proposed that he asked his son to do a task in the next island they stop at, zoro groaned a yes. when the day came, he sent off his son with one of his swords—the excuse was to fix it's guard—and just went to take a nap like always. "aren't you worried he might get in trouble?" nami asked, looking at the green haired man with raised eyebrows. zoro shook his head and nami murmured: "okay, well, let's just hope he knows how to use your sword."

upon hearing that, zoro immediately jumped out of the ship, the two swords he still had tied to his belt clicking together. his heart raced as he ran around town, looking for the tiny version of himself—when he found him, it was quite hilarious. "are you challenging the son of the greatest swordsman? how dare you!" the kid yelled, waving his father's sword at a stray cat that didn't seem phased at all. zoro cleared his throat and the green haired child turned fastly, dropping the sword and startling the cat.

"h-hi da—" zoro approaching him made the boy shut himself up. he gulped, his black eyes going wide and his lips pursing. as zoro raised his hand, he prepared himself for a good smack, he closed his eyes and—felt a soft pat on top of his head. "your posture holding the sword was wrong. pick up the sword and let's go, i'll teach you." they started to walk back (away) to the ship, the 'task' long forgotten. but zoro was quite proud of his little one, nonetheless.

sanji adored his son more than everything in the world. even if they didn't look alike appearance wise, the kid behaved so much like him, sanji would do anything to protect him. "i can do it, daddy!" his kid exclaimed one day while they were out getting groceries for the ship. "imma get spices! alone!" the little giggle that left his lips made sanji simply nod and the boy ran away happy before his father could even process his sentences.

after a couple of seconds, sanji ran after the kid, but keeping his distance and watching out for him. surprisingly, the little one was picking up all the right spices and even held the door open for a lady to walk out. feeling his chest swell with pride—and his eyes filling up with tears—, he went back to the store he was previously.

"dad, i got them!" he exclaimed as soon as he saw the blonde. their bright smile could blind everyone around the duo. sanji kneeled to hug him and chuckled. "i'm so proud of you." they walked back home holding hands, talking happily about the exciting dishes they could cook—sanji felt like something inside him was slowly healing.

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, do not repost, translate or feed it into ai without permission

#trafalgar d water law #roronoa zoro #sanji #law x reader fluff #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #law x reader #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x you fluff #roronoa zoro x reader #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji x reader fluff #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece x you #op x you #one piece x reader fluff

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mountainsandmayhem · 7 months ago

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Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.”

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you.

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture.

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start.

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture.

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis.

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.”

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?”

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.”

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit.

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath.

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy.

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek.

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?”

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired.

His thumbs stop their ministrations.

“Do you need to use your safe word?”

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.”

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?”

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip.

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.”

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak.

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.”

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.”

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?”

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.”

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs.

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times.

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub.

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit.

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder.

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes.

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?”

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips.

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?”

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.”

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?”

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed.

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers.

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?”

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again.

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you.

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.”

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still.

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.”

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper.

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy.

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure.

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat.

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip.

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack.

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.”

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together.

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?”

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.”

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.”

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily.

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.”

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband.

#pedro #pedrohub #pedro is daddy #zaddy pedro #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pleasure dom #pleasuredom!Marcus pike

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sinofwriting · 7 months ago

Text

Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader

Words: 4,549 Summary: Charles and Max are together and she needs to move on, get over them before her feelings get any bigger and harder to handle.

Note(s): Partial SMAU. No part two will be written

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

This was far more difficult than it should be, she couldn’t help but think.

When Max and Charles had told her that they were together, she knew that the days of being a trio were over. She had made her peace with it as soon as the next day had rolled around and she had let herself cry, because it hurt more than she expected seeing the two people she liked so much being in love with each other. She knew that they’d want time alone, time to go out on dates, to just spend time with each other, without other people, without her.

So, she retreated. Started texting to ask if she could come over to Max’s or Charles’, double checking that they still wanted her to come over when they asked, knocking on front doors instead of just letting herself in like before. She nearly gave back her keys to both their places, but kept them. They’d give them to her in case of emergencies, it just so happened that they then urged her to use them to just let herself in at any time. She did however take back her own spare keys, slipping it off of their key rings when they were distracted. The one going back in her safe in her bedroom, the other going to Arthur, who thankfully hadn’t asked questions just kissed her on the forehead with a murmured breath of idiots before threading their arms together and making her walk with him around Maranello.

She had figured it would be easy to fall away from them, that they’d like the time to be together just them. But she’s still getting invited to come over for random lunches and dinners. For movie night whether it’s over discord when she hasn’t joined them at a race or in Max’s living room or Charles' hotel room.

It hurts to say no to those offerings, to not say yes every time they offer, but it also hurts to see them together and she can’t be around them as often as she used to with her feelings so large for them and hopefully not apparent.

So, she asks for Arthur’s help. She loves them, yes, but she isn’t in love with them. And that means the world of difference, because she can get over them, will get over them.

Her feet are in his lap as they scroll through her tiktok that’s displayed on her TV. It makes her miss the F2 weekends, the races she always attends, just to tag along with Arthur. To support him, and how always the night before the feature race no matter how much Max or Charles will plead, she’ll go to his hotel room and they’d do the same thing. Scrolling through her tiktok, either laughing or scoffing at what’s shown.

She curls her toes gently into his thigh, laughing at the slight hiss he gives. “How are your toes so cold?” She shrugs, wiggling them a bit before he puts a blanket over them, setting his hand on top of the blanket where her toes are underneath. “Why is your hand so warm?” “Do you really want to know?” She makes a face at him and he does the same back and they both break into giggles.

“I was wondering,” “Oh?” He looks away from the TV, eyes focusing on her. “If the offer to set me up with someone was still on the table.” His eyebrows are raised. “But what about,” “They are together, happy and in love. I’m happy with being their friend, but to be a better friend I need to get over my feelings before it hurts them or their relationship and that is the last thing I want.”

She means it as well. She is happy for Charles and Max even if she hadn’t thought that they'd get over themselves and admit that they felt something for each other. It also helps that the distance has helped with the hurt she feels seeing them. It’s more bittersweet than anything to see them so happy together.

He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Of course. Paul is interested.” Her eyes go wide. “Paul is a child!” “He’s nineteen, that’s not a child.” Arthur denies. “And I’m twenty-three, same as you. I don't want to rob the cradle so to speak.” “Okay, no one that young.”

She watches as he thinks about it before smirking at her. “Ya know, Pierre and Kika have talked of having a third.” She scowls at him. “Maybe someone single and who isn’t best friends with Max or Charles.” “Fine.” he chuckles. “You know I only know people in motorsports, though. They will know them.” “I’m aware, Thur.” She gently prods his thigh. “Now, give me a name or two.” “Logan.” She feels blood rush to her face and looks away from her best friend at the sound of his name and Arthur’s eyes narrow.

“What is that about?” He reaches forward to poke at her temple that’s now facing him. “I may have slept with him.” “No.” He’s shaking his head when she looks at him again. “When?” “Last year at Abu Dhabi before his Williams testing.” She tells him, laughing when he gently hits her calves. “And you never told me?” “It happened one time!” She defends herself. “And we both agreed not to really talk about it.” He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. Do you want me to set you up? Give you his number?” Her eyebrows raise at Arthur having his number as she thinks about it.

She liked Logan, maybe not entirely like that, but she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. He was sweet, funny and earnest. She could see herself having a good time with Logan even if it didn’t end up being a relationship that lasted forever or went too serious. Afterall she had a good time with him the last time they saw each other.

“Yeah, I’d like his number.”

—

Arthur didn’t know how he had ended up in the house of the enemy (it was said enemy offering him to use his sim) but he was already regretting that he came over, especially with his brother being over as well and the fact that the enemy, or now two enemies wouldn’t let him use the sim.

“What is wrong with her?” “Nothing is wrong.” He repeats, feeling bored of their worries about Y/N. It was stupid that they thought he’d be this relaxed if something was wrong with her, she was his best friend after all, despite what Max and Charles liked to think. “Really? Because we haven’t seen her in a week, a week Arthur! We have been home.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her just today.” “So, she’s at home.” “No.” Arthur looks around the living space of Max’s place, eyebrows raising at the grand piano that now resides by some of his trophies. “I drove her to Nice, this morning.” “Nice?” Max eyebrows are furrowed. “She never goes to Nice.” Arthur shrugs, leaning back in his seat and taking out of his phone, swiping through his messages. “She has a date.” “She has a what!?” Arthur has to hide his smirk as the two Formula 1 drivers yell. “I’ve been trying to set her up with someone for awhile now. She finally said yes.” “With who?”

—

“This was really nice.” She smiles up at Logan, liking how she has to tilt her head up a bit to look at him with how they’re standing. “I had a really good time.” There’s a hand now resting on her waist and she shudders at the touch, at how Logan is looking at her, at how this whole day had gone. It had been so long since she went on a date, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.

“Maybe next time we could do this in London?” He grins at her, “Really?” “It wouldn’t be fair if only you were flying.” She pauses, “I need a bit of notice, but I could also do Florida.” His smile and eyes soften. “I’d like that. I’m going back for Christmas until the fourth of January. But maybe if our next date,” Her smile widens at the words next date, the quiet but sure confidence in them. “Goes well, you could fly down on the third and we do a little road trip, explore some of America.” “I’ve never been before.” “I mean, I’ve only really been to places for racing other than Florida.” “So, you’ve only been to Florida.” He laughs but nods, “yeah, only to Florida.” “I’d like that. Just tell me how much time you want to spend there and I’ll use my vacation days up.” “You don’t want to wait until our next date?” “I don’t think I do. Do you?” She asks, stepping closer. “No.” He murmurs and then he’s bending, their lips just separated. “I don’t think you do.”

—

She’s brimming with excitement when she gets to Arthur’s place. Her fingers keep brushing over her lips and cheeks where Logan had kissed her. Her mind keeps replaying his words, his laugh, the little sigh he gave when she kissed him again before they parted ways.

She doesn’t bother knocking on Arthur’s door, he had told her that if she wasn’t going to let him pick her back up that’d he keep the door unlocked for her so she could come straight to him after her date.

“Thur.” She calls, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I’m back, all safe and sound.” She rounds the kitchen counter, opening his fridge and stealing a beer before making her way to the living room and plopping down on his couch. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she can’t help but remember how excited Logan had gotten when he realized that her dress had pockets. The fresh memory, barely seven hours old, has her grinning again.

“So, it went well?” She looks up and sees Arthur standing in the entry of the living room, a beer in one hand while his other is taking a towel to his hair, explaining his silence. “It did. In a few days, I’m gonna fly to London, spend the day with him.” “It went really well.” He sits beside her, eyeing her. “You seem excited.” “I am.” She laughs. “It was just, it was so nice, Thur. And at first I thought maybe it was just going on a date, but on the way here, I think it was not only that but it was him.” He looks at her and wonders why he ever thought there was a possibility of her being in love with Max and Charles, not just liking them as she claimed, when after one date with Logan she looked like this.

—

“We’ve missed you.” Charles murmurs, holding her tight to him, Max has his arms around the both of them. “Where have you been?” He asks, pulling away to gently touch her face, to run his thumb under the dark circles that aren’t as prominent as they usually are. “I’ve been busy.” She tells him, squeezing Max’s arm that’s still wrapped around her before stepping away from the both of them. “Work always gets weird in December.” Max frowns, “Just work?” Her eyebrows furrow, “Not just work. But mainly.” “We’ve been home for over a week and this the first time we’ve seen you is all.” Charles smooths out the slight tension. “Usually we see you on our first day back and when we swung by your place you were never home, never made plans to see us, never just dropped in.” She smiles at Charles and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Max’s smile did the same thing to his heart as well.

“How has being home been? How are my loves?” She asks and then there’s two cats winding around her ankles and she’s bending to pet and coo at them. “Hello my loves! Look at you both, so pretty and handsome.” Max huffs out a laugh. “I swear you love them more than us.” “Oh absolutely.” She laughs. “Jimmy and Sassy are far better than you two. Huh babies?” She directs the last part to the cats who let her give them one more pet before darting away.

“How have you two been?” She asks when they all sit down in the living room, the three of them all on the large couch that Max’s living room holds. “We’ve been good.” Charles smiles, eyes lighting as he thinks of the past week that had been pretty much just him and Max. It had nearly been perfect, so close. Max nods. “I’m very happy Brad isn’t my trainer anymore, he’d have a heart attack if he saw what was in the fridge.” She laughs, whole face brightening. “You always do this in December though and it’s not as if you stop your training. It will be weird not seeing Brad.” “Rupert will be an adjustment.” The Dutchman sends Charles a look. “He won’t ever be in Monaco other than the GP. Not when Andrea is willing to work with me as well. We both know that Rupert is just to save face mostly.” “And to have a trainer with you in Red Bull.” Charles pouts at the two of them. “I don’t like this.” Max and her both share a look before laughing and she wraps an arm around Charles, giving him a side hug. “The poor baby.” She coos. He flushes at the word baby, nearly shuddering at the idea, the sound of both Max and her calling him baby at the same time.

“What have you been up to?” Max redirects, easily taking the focus off of Charles as his poor boyfriend takes a moment to compose himself. “Work mostly.” She gives a tired sigh. “Thankfully though I’ve only got another week and then I’m off until January twentieth.” Both of their eyebrows raise. “The twentieth? But you usually go back on the second or fifth.” “I have a bunch of vacation saved up. I want to use some of it to bring in the new year, start it off stress free, or as stress free as I can get.” “They still won’t let you go fully remote?” Max asks, frowning. She shakes her head. “No. Which is ridiculous considering that I’m allowed to go with you guys for race weekends and such as long as I do my work remotely. I mean, I’m already doing so much of it at home.” She shakes her head again and the smile that had been on her face is gone, whole face covered in stress. “Have you given any thought to leaving?” Charles is careful as he broaches the topic. He knows how much she loves the company she works for, despite them not allowing her to go fully remote. “A little.” Max rests his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze seeing her sad smile.

Charles, seeing the smile and the touch on the knee from Max, nudges her lightly. “We should go somewhere, the three of us. Right after the new year. Go to Bali, Malta, or Greece again.”

Greece had been amazing when they went, just before Max and him had kissed for the first time. Getting to see both of them enjoying the water and sun, skin all on display as she chased them around with sunscreen. The tipsy nights in the living room of where they were staying, furniture pushed back as they danced around, pressed all up against each other.

“Right after the new year?” Charles nods and Max joins him, also remembering Greece. “It would be fun. Another trip just the three of us.” “I have plans right after the new year.” Both of their eyebrows furrow. “Plans?” Charles asks. Her eyes drift to her lap for a second. “Yeah. I started seeing someone and we agreed to do a roadtrip. I’m gonna fly out on the third to meet him.” “Oh.” “Is it serious? Between you two?” She smiles at Max, “I don’t know yet. It’s still early.”

—

“I’m not telling you. It is none of your business.” Arthur tells Charles, a frown on his face. “Arthur,” “No.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice like Charles has, obviously not wanting Lorenzo or Maman to hear him. “C’mon Arthur. What if he doesn’t treat her right? Hurts her?” His jaw twitches, lips thinning. “You really think that? That I’d set her up with someone that might hurt her? She’s my best friend, Charles. I wouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” Lorenzo asks, as he and Maman join them at the table again, Charles’ face having softened, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Y/N started seeing someone. I set her up. Charles wants to know who.” “Charles.” Maman scolds and he ducks his head. “I just,” he stops, struggling. “Max and I didn't think that she’d start seeing someone. We thought we’d have time.” Lorenzo's face looks a lot like Arthur thinks his face looks like. “You have to be joking.” “What?” “Charles, you and Max are lovely together. We are happy for you. But you got together knowing that you also wanted her in the relationship as well, but you never did anything about it. It’s been six months and you still haven’t done anything. You can’t begrudge her for finding some happiness.” “No.” Charles shakes his head. “Never.” He glances at the faces of his family. “We know that we may be too late. We just want to make sure she is treated well, right. Is taken care of and is happy. Max and I love her, we want the best for her.” “Arthur wouldn’t set her up with someone he thought would make her unhappy.” “I know.”

—

“Logan!” She squeals as he picks her up, his chest dripping with water pressed against her back. “Put me down!” She laughs. He laughs as well and does put her down, but quickly spins her around, the two now chest to chest. “That better?” She loops her arms around his neck, nodding. ”Much better.” Tilting her head she presses their lips together, humming when he presses her somehow even closer.

—

yourusername

Liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2778 others yourusername: Florida, you have treated me so well and I couldn’t think of a better place to start the roadtrip off, though it does pain me to leave. First stop is New Orleans! (and until next time Miami, I miss you already)

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charlesleclerc: Looks beautiful user1: You look so pretty!!! And that water! arthurleclerc: Did he not tell you about other things in Florida? ⤷ yourusername: but the beach Thur, the beach! user2: Ooh a boy user3: Charles commented!!!

yourusername

Liked by paularon, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 1521 others yourusername: New Orleans! Beignets are a must now and I will be attempting to learn to make them as soon as I’m back home (along with gumbo, oh my god). Thank you for buying me about a hundred beignets in two days and coffee!

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maxverstappen1: Will you share? ⤷yourusername: of course, Max! user4: Love that bar! user5: Where’s your next stop? ⤷yourusername: our next stop is Dallas/Fort Worth! user6: Beignets are so good, I don’t blame you for eating nearly a 100

yourusername

Liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 3028 others yourusername: When in Texas, cowboys hats are a must! (though they make kissing a bit difficult) We both had only been to the Austin area, so getting to see a bit of Dallas and Fort Worth was lovely (not pictured me crying from happiness as I pet a horse and my boyfriend laughing at me) Next stop is Phoenix, Arizona

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arthurleclerc: I’m going to need that picture ⤷yourusername: Not happening user7: I know we talk about the girlfriend effect, but can we talk about the boyf effect??? My girl seems to be glowing ⤷user8: for real! Whoever he is, he is treating her good charlesleclerc: I am familiar with that part of Texas ⤷yourusername: Definitely user9: Every post makes my dreams of the lestappeny/n throuple die ⤷user10: THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! ⤷user9: girl, tell that to Max and Charles

—

“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrows furrow at the weird tone in Charles’ voice. “What?” “Your instagram post. You call him your boyfriend.” It’s weird for Max to be the one clarifying. It’s always Charles between the two to do it. “Yeah. I mean that happened in Florida. Right after I got off the plane he asked me.” She smiles at the memory of the candy in his hands, the little anklet with the letter L on it that he gave her in the car. “And he is good to you?” “Yes. He’s the best, Cha.” “Maybe we can meet him when you get back? Before the season starts.” She glances at Logan, who is talking on the phone, his free hand gesturing. “Do you want me to invite Arthur as well?” “No.” Charles’ answer is swift as is Max’s. “If you trust him, we can trust him.” She smiles, eyes crinkling when Logan winks at her. “Of course. We’ll be in Monaco in a week and half for a few days before he goes back to London. Let me know when you're free, yes?” “We will look. Be safe.” “Wear lots of sunscreen!” “I will!”

—

yourusername

Liked by jensonbutton, maxverstappen1, joristrouche and 1023 others yourusername: Thank you to the random person for taking our photo and I promise we didn’t just look at cacti while in Arizona. Time for our next and last stop California!

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user11: Your welcome! You and your bf were real sweet! ⤷yourusername: Too kind! jensonbutton: You two up for some babysitting? ⤷yourusername: Jenson… you better not be joking about getting to watch the baby buttons ⤷jensonbutton: I would never arthurleclerc: I just know he touched a cactus user12: Every day we get closer to finding out who she’s soft launching

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, logansargeant and 2,064 others yourusername: California! The last state on this trip! It’s been fun and hopefully next year we can do another road trip and explore some other states (perhaps in a few years have all 50 checked off).

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user13: I didn’t realize that they had been together for so long user14: Is that Laguna Seca? ⤷yourusername: It is! user15: Race track!!! arthurleclerc: Can’t believe he got you to go karting user16: The club vibes in the last photo

brittnybutton

Liked by yourusername, jensonbutton, jamesharveyblair and 3,218 others brittnybutton: Thank you yourusername and boyfriend for watching the kiddos! Loved having you stay with us for the two days.

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yourusername: Thank you for letting us! jensonbutton: Well behaved bunch they were user17: Brittny is helping her soft launch… I can’t user18: yourusername would be such a good mom user19: parents

—

“Max! Charles!” Her voice is bright, smile wide and Max swallows thickly, wrapping his arms around her. “You look good.” He tells her, pressing his lips to the top of her head before letting her go, Charles eagerly swooping in to hug her.

She’s glowing, Max thinks as he watches Charles and her hug. His boyfriend murmuring some compliment or complaint in her ear as he gently sways her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this happy before. It hurts but is also relieving to see.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Max asks when Charles finally lets her go. She smiles at Max as they all sit down at the table, a spread of food and drinks already laid out, plates and silverware in front of them. “He’s changing.” “Do we get to know his name? Or will we,” Charles starts to ask but his voice dies in his throat making Max look at him in concern before following his gaze and understanding fills him. “Logan, hi.” The Williams driver smiles at them, sitting in the empty chair next to Y/N. “Hey guys.” Max watches as she beams at Logan, her whole face just brightening before she looks at them, a sorry smile on her face. “I should’ve told you both sooner, who it was, but I didn’t know how.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We are just shocked is all.” “Very.” Charles agrees. “Arthur set you two up?” Max squeezes Charles’ hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I was a little shocked getting the message from him, didn’t even know he still had my number.” Logan laughs. “But he asked if I was interested, I was, so two days later I flew to France for our first day.”

“You two look happy.” She smiles at Charles before looking at Logan. “We are.” “And Jenson knew about it?” Max asks, remembering Jenson’s comments about babysitting and then his wife’s post. Logan blushes and she laughs. “Yeah, Jenson’s really been helping me out since July and I told him after she booked her tickets to Florida.” “That’s good. It’s always nice to have a grid dad, no?” Logan flushes even more as Max laughs. “Just because Seb treated you like a child does not mean we all need to have a grid dad.” “But, Lance had Checo, Oscar has Mark, you had Fernando.” “I didn’t have Fernando.” “You had Fernando.” She agrees with Charles. “He was the only driver not talking shit about you, Fernando was all about your chaos. He’s your grid dad.” Max pouts but it’s quickly chased away by a kiss to the cheek from Charles that makes him grin.

—

yourusername

Liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and arthurleclerc and 4274 others Tagged: logansargeant yourusername: Who knew a date in Nice would turn into this? Hoping for many more months (and years) with you.

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logansargeant: Happy 3 months baby! user20: 3 months??? user21: wdym they’ve only been together 3 months user22: She’s dating Logan? Crying user23: omg mom gave us a dad and it’s america man

@teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @namgification @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @fanboyluvr @darleneslane @ironspdy @eutrizbea @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @hiireadstuff @tallrock35 @casperlikej

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lestappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #sins 5k bday bash fics #sins fics

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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: being in a secret relationship with lando norris has been a journey in itself. but nothing comes harder than the moments where you both struggle to keep your hands off one another.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it before your tap it lol), cumming inside, voyeurism, fingering, slight handjob, boyfriend established but secret, cute cringe couple humour, obvious pining, poor knowledge of pr specialist things, mentions of mental health and stress, mclaren in itself needs a warning, mention of fave menace w*ll b*xton (simply ew), allusion of future marriage

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lando norris x mclaren’s pr specialist!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: this is based of taylor swift’s ‘dress’! okay, so i’m giving you lovelies this one and some others while i study for my last exam 😔 i actually have some requests which are exciting and nerve wrecking but i'm gonna try my level best to do them after my exam. although i’m also supposed be on a plane not too soon after. anyways, thank you so much for your support and patience ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

As a PR specialist, things were constantly changing. For example, for a certain amount of time you were assigned to Fernando Alonso when he was under McLaren. Quite honestly, it was a nightmare.

There was nothing wrong with Fernando. For the time you had spent with him, he was rather sweet. But the media had painted him out as some sort of tyrant of McLaren, claiming that the F1 team belonged to him as opposed to being owned by Zak Brown. Then again, you supposed the Spaniard’s lack of care for listening didn’t help either.

When learning that Fernando was leaving, you could only hope that whoever you were assigned to next was less work than him.

In came Lando Norris, a young driver with ambition and humour, and lucky for you, little work.

Somehow he just knew the right things to say. And if he didn’t, he was always asking you beforehand.

Between the both of you there was only a two year age gap so of course it was easy to befriend each other. You were always talking about something to the other.

His passion for DJing, his childhood or your love for travelling and the gossip of certain celebrities. How you were absolutely certain JLo and Ben Affleck was a PR couple because who on earth had a nude portrait of themselves above their bed?

It wasn’t until almost a year ago where you realised you liked him more than just a friend. There was just something about the way you two communicated that left in trailed sighs, awkward laughs desperate to talk more and grins that got your hearts pacing.

Or perhaps it was the way you had poured your hearts out to one another. As happy as Lando looked, he was one under a lot of pressure which affected is mental health. You were there for all of this ups and downs. You were his number on speed dial for everything.

And when things got a little too much for you, Lando did his best to not only be there for you but to cheer you up. Stupid jokes, random flowers and, teddy bears.

How were you not supposed to like him?

Surprisingly, Lando had been the one to confess his feelings to you. Well, only after one of the engineers from Mercedes was openly trying to court you at an F1 dinner.

Lando had gotten so jealous that he had pulled you aside that evening and begged you to not think of anyone else but him. That you were only supposed to smile like that at him… with him.

At first, you were thrilled and kind of shocked that Lando felt the same way. But that happiness and smile he liked so much quickly faded when you thought about your job.

‘F1’s Lando Norris is dating his PR specialist’…

Yeah… the implications of that sounded terrible. You could imagine it already. What was Lando hiding to date his publicist? Is Lando that good of a person?

And while you and all the people knew the truth, those types of rumours would’ve undermined your job in the first place and honestly, you were sure that McLaren wouldn’t exactly be jumping with excitement that you two were dating.

So you mentioned this to Lando with the suggestion of being secret about your relationship for now.

You could literally see some of the shine in his eyes fade. He was gutted but he understood what you meant. He’d rather be with you secretly than not at all and without his best friend.

our secret moments in a crowded room

they've got no idea about me and you

there is an indentation in the shape of you

made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Your relationship with him had been a roller coaster. Neither of you had been in a secret relationship and neither of you could deny how fun it was.

Take right now for example. Today was the McLaren’s car launch for the 2023 F1 season. The room was filled to the brim with all sorts of people: journalists, publicists, engineers, marketers, social media managers, the new driver next to Lando, Oscar.

Yet with all those people, Lando and you found it impossible to not find each other. You were constantly meeting each others eyes, especially when you were nearby for his interviews.

There was a thrill, you must admit, about no one knowing about the two of you.

A rush of adrenaline at the thought that no one knew nor expected you to be in Lando’s bedroom this very morning before the launch.

“Remember to be sort of vague about the car and, well, everything. I mean obviously but I don’t think Will’s going down without a fight,” you reminded your boyfriend with an annoyed sigh.

Will Buxton was not only a F1 journalist but a man who got under everyone’s skin. You couldn’t fathom why people liked him in the first place.

Lando, who was leaning on his elbow on his bed, gave a hum of response. He only had half of his mind present as he watched you get ready. “Surely, this can’t be fair,’ He asked.

You raised a brow at him through the mirror. “What?” You queried before putting on a necklace. Sorry, attempting to. You weren’t exactly sure why the clasps of necklaces were made so poorly.

Lando got up from the bed and walked up behind you. He grabbed the necklace from your hands with an amused expression before bringing it to your neck. With one hand, he pushed your hair to the side and joined the clasp to the metal ring. He rested his fingers on the back of your neck, slowly rubbing the area as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“I mean, you get to wear this,” Lando started. His hands ran over the satin silk material of your black dress. It was fairly casual, landing mid-thigh. Perfect enough for you to blend into the crowd. Although, it didn’t matter for Lando. He could always pick you from the crowd. Especially, if you were wearing this. “And I wear this? It doesn’t seem fair,” he whispered into your ear.

You let out a small laugh, eyeing his new uniform for the season. You turned to face him, rubbing your hands over his chest and pretending to dust it. “I think you look quite good, love.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. You felt his hand travel up your neck and to your lips. “When did you even buy this? It wasn’t even in your closet?”

Your heart started to pace when you caught that knowing glint in his eyes. His mended brows seemed to ease when you didn’t respond. Sometimes you didn’t need to open your mouth to say anything. Instead, you let your eyes talk.

A small grin came to his face. He turned you to face the mirror. His hands came alive, roaming your thigh and waist. “Just for me, huh?” Lando smiled.

“Lando,” you warned weakly. You had a feeling where this was going. Honestly, you weren’t opposed to it. But the both of you needed to clock in soon. “It’s supposed to come off after the launch.”

Lando pursed his lips, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck and meeting your gaze. “Oh, it supposed to come off too? Jesus, I don’t think I can’t wait that long.”

Lando could feel the perfume he has come to love so much infiltrate his nose. God, this dress and now the perfume. How on earth was he going to get out of here?

“Fuck,” He murmured out. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder. He needed to get himself together. But the thing about your skin was that it was so inviting… so warm.

You felt his his arms wrap around your waist as you added some finishing touches to your look. Lando pouted at you through the mirror.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed, squishing his cheeks with your free hand.

“I don’t think I can leave this room. I can’t,” Lando groaned, starting a line of kisses on your neck.

“Lando…” You whimpered out pathetically, feeling your neck stretch out even more willingly. You could feel him close in on the one area near your ear.

“Fuck, Lando. Not there,” You swore but with no effort to stop him.

Lando’s greed seem to increase upon your exclaim. He furthered his attack on the spot, sucking enough of your intoxicating skin, not only to get his full but leave a fresh purple mark.

Now he was satisfied enough to leave the room.

You watched his lips leave your skin, almost leaving you to pour for a second before that dark spot on your skin caught your eyes.

You gasped. “You didn’t,” you said in disbelief, whacking your boyfriend.

Lando’s blues twinkled at you as he planted a cheeky kiss to your cheek. “I did.”

Now you were in a room of all these people. It was exhilarating for Lando to know that he had given you a tattoo of some sorts. To attend those interviews and know that behind your carefully placed hair, he had given you something no one else would ever… yeah, he was aching to leave.

It wasn’t any less for you. Even last night you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were walking around with the fact that you knew what was underneath the damn racing gear. The scratches and indentations of your hands on his skin caused by the will to bring Lando even closer to you.

all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation

my hands are shaking from holding back from you�� ha, ah, ah

all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

my hands are shaking from all this… ah, ha, ha, ha

Lando was looking at you probably more than one should look at their PR specialist to the point he was sure you could feel his eyes on you.

But he couldn't help. Every little thing you did in that dress had caught his attention.

Your pinky-red painted lips covering the champagne glass you held. Those lips he wanted for himself. On him. Everywhere. Now.

The occasional brush of your hands that sent shudders he had to surpress.

The lights of the venue practically spotlighting you so everyone could see how beautiful you looked. So Lando could see exactly how nicely the dress clung to everyone of those damning curves.

The polite smiles you offered every single person you met. A gesture that sent his heart racing.

The forced polite laughter and chuckles you gave to the people that flirted with you. A gesture that made him both proud and frustrated. Proud in that you were clearly faking it because he knew what your real smile and laugh was. Hell, he had the pleasure of making it everyday. And that people clearly found you as beautiful as he did. Frustrated because people were clearly into you and he could do nothing but watch in silence.

Lando couldn't blame them either. If he was them, he too would've stopped to impress. But he didn't need to. Not when you were his entirely and he yours.

The more he looked at you the more his hands shook and his patience wore thin. His hands ached for this day to end, for him to take you to his room, and remove that goddamn dress.

He could imagine what his former teammates Carlos and Daniel say. Something along the lines of "stop staring at her like you want to eat her".

Which, in all honestly, wasn't true.

Lando didn't want to eat you. He wanted to devour you. Slowly and gently. He wanted to appreciate you... all of you. So much that only his name was falling from those beautiful lips of yours.

say my name and everything just stops

i don't want you like a best friend

only bought this dress so you could take it off

take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah

carve your name into my bedpost

'cause i don't want you like a best friend

only bought this dress so you could take it off

take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah

Lando couldn't imagine the poor luck he had. The event was finally over and he was home. Without you.

You had become slightly tied with some last minute discussions with the reporters and journalists, even your dear favourite Will.

Which meant for the past hour, Lando had nothing but his thoughts. Thoughts that consisted only of you, that dress, and what he was going to do with you.

What was he supposed to do?

Unbothered to put on a new change of clothes, Lando was in bed only in his boxers which had a very obvious bulge.

Lando let out a sigh, his hand brushing over his clothed cock. "Fuck," he muttered out through a clenched jaw. If it was any other day, he would've lost all self-control and jerked off to his thoughts of you. But you were going to be home soon and he desperately wanted to feel you.

"Lando? Honey, I'm home!" Your voice echoed through his house, teasing him.

Lando whipped his head up, feeling all his thoughts and emotions briefly stop as he darted towards the entrance.

You were taking of your heels when you saw Lando stand in all his glory almost naked. You couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Oh my... I thought we discussed you not walking around the house naked, Lando."

Lando said nothing. Instead, he took a step towards, eyes searching your face and arms encircling your body closer to him.

The hairs on your body stood straight while goosebumps started to sprawl across your skin. Lando's thumb brushed across your bottom lip. "You were later than expected," He said in a tone that almost neared a whine.

You let out a sigh, kissing the tip of his thumb. "I know. I'm sorry, baby."

Lando grinned. "It's okay," He quipped before scooping you up in his arms.

You let out a yelp before smiling as Lando ventured to your bedroom. You could soon feel the soft sheets of your bed touch your skin while Lando hovered over you.

"You have to tell me what the deal with this dress is, love," Lando whispered. His finger slid under the strap of your dress before trailing all the way down to your bare breast.

You opened your mouth to answer but not even a hint of a sound came out as Lando's finger circled your nipple gently. You met his eager blue eyes, waiting for answer.

"I only bought this dress so you can take it off. Simple as that."

Lando let out a low exhale, feeling his cock harden even further. God, were you even real?

"Yeah?" He hummed, pushing the straps of your dress down your arms. He pushed his face down lower, wrapping his lips around your nipple as he continued to pull your dress down your body.

Your back arched on the bed, pushing yourself into his mouth even further. Without a word, you lifted your hips up and Lando had fully taken the dress off.

His other hand reached your other nipple, paying it an equal amount of attention. He rolled the pebbled mound between his thumb and index finger, giving it a slight squeeze.

You let out a small whimper. Your hand navigating through his short curls. You could feel your core tighten and your pussy become slick with your arousal.

Lando unlatched his lips from your breasts, using both hands to gently thumb your nipples. "Tell me want you want, love. I want to hear it from these pretty lips."

God... you couldn't even decide. "I don't know. I want your lips. Your fingers. Fuck, I want it all."

Lando couldn't help but grin as a he felt a surge of energy rush through. "I can do it all," He chuckled before bringing his lips to yours. His tongue darted between your lips and into your mouth. His hands trailed up and down your waist while a muffled moan came out of his mouth.

You kissed him back with the same intensity of fervor, bringing your hands around his neck, willing him closer to you.

Lando could tell by the slight squirm of your legs, you were getting impatient down there. Slowly, he trailed down your waist and reached your panties. His own lips quirked at the damp material. Pressing his fingers into your core, he could feel a shudder overcome you.

Lando continued his assault on your lips as he rubbed you through your panties.

You removed your lips in a gasp for air. "Don't tease, Lando," You moaned out, clenching your thighs so it trapped his hand to your pussy.

Lando chuckled. He used his free hand to brush over your swollen lips. God, he wanted those lips around his cock. Maybe tomorrow morning. Or maybe in the shower tonight. Right now, he wanted to focus on you. "Say please. A good girl should always use her manners, no?"

This good girl thing had always infuriated you. It felt childish. But then it paled in comparison to the tingling and blossoming sensation of Lando's fingers rubbing your clit.

But of course, if you were going to be a good girl, you were always going for extra credit.

"Please, Lando. Fuck. I need your fingers. Please. I love the way they fill me up. The way they feel in me. Please."

Lando wanted to grin. But all he could do was groan in response. How could he not reward his dear overachiever?

His fingers pulled down your panties, snatching down the damp material past your legs. A guttural sound of pure sin fell from his mouth as he saw your pussy. It glistened in front of him, almost as if it was flooded. Sliding his fingers down those soaked folds, he watched you writhe under him and whimper.

Lando kept his eyes on you as he pushed two fingers into you slowly. He could feel your core envelope him and welcome him graciously. He watched your back arch once he began thrusting into a pace, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

"Shit," you moaned, reaching for your breasts to both add even more pleasure and bring some sort of sanity. "Faster, baby. Please."

Lando sped up the pace of his fingers, bringing his thumb to rub your clit. His eyes flickered to your pussy. He licked his lips. You were swollen and engorged. Your puffy lips continuously took him in and it was almost paining his cock that he wasn't inside you yet.

A new intense wave of euphoria settled over you. Your body convulsed with a buzz that provided the almost silent moans from your mouth. "Fuck.... I... I'm gonna come," You moaned out, head falling back as your mind became clouded with pleasure.

Lando's cock throbbed from not being touched. He could do it no longer.

The whine you released when Lando took his fingers out of you almost made him want to put them back in. But instead, with a speed he had never even found in his car, he took off his boxers and hovered over your body.

"I know. I know," Lando murmured, pressing his lips into yours to silence your begging plea.

You placed your own fingers in your mouth, drenching them in your saliva. Removing them, your hand travelled down his waist, brushing past his v-line before circling your hand around his cock. You could feel Lando moan into the kiss, briefly stilling at your touch.

Slowly you rubbed him up and down, dangerously thumbing the slit of his cock. You watched as your saliva lubed him, giving him a unique shine. Your shine.

"Jesus fucking christ," Lando moaned out. He was sure if you kept up like this, he was going to cum in your hands rather than inside you.

"Fuck, as much I love your hands and touch. I need to be in you, baby," Lando sighed, removing your hand from his cock and slowly pressing into your body to slide his cock up and down your pussy.

You moaned at his words, feeling his lips wrap around your nipple once again.

"Stop teasing," You panted. The buzz created by the tip of his cock rubbing your clit was almost paining and torturous.

Lando didn't even mean to tease. But even just feeling your pussy felt like a different type of high. He groaned, pushing the tip of his cock into your swollen lips. A rush of warmth surged through him as he laid in you for a brief moment.

Your pussy was a safe haven. A cocoon made for his cock. This high... this pleasure... he could feel it with no one than you.

You sobbed in ecstasy. Lando was almost bring cruel. You raised your hips, fucking yourself onto your cock.

Lando had to keep himself above you, almost collapsing at your action. He let out a small laugh at your impatience before he started to move in you.

As he thrusted into you, you could feel his cock glide through your folds, reaching those familiar areas of arousal. You clenched your walls around him teasingly, silently urging him to speed.

"Fucking hell," Lando hissed out, speeding up the movement of your hips.

Sweat and arousal doused the both of you as the room was full of your pants and the obscene sound of your skin slapping.

"I'm gonna cum soon, baby," Lando said once you clenched around him once again. This clenching action always drove him overboard. It pulled him in even further into you and pressured his cock to pulse inside of you.

"It's okay. Cum with me," You moaned, bringing him into a sloppy kiss.

Your muffled moans became impossibly higher as Lando rutted into you at a merciless speed. The wave of pleasure and euphoria that had sprawled across the both of you was inexplicable. A transient unearthly state of mind. A paradox of what was holy and unholy.

Your hands had found their way to Lando's back. Your fingernails dug lightly into the smooth skin of his back. You dragged them down as your hips bucked higher in the chase of the climax.

"Fuck! Lando!" You cursed.

Lando could feel his cock twitch and throb inside you. The nails. His name. Your lips. It was any second now. "Fuck. Say my name, Y/N!"

'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless. 'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless.

"Lando!" You moaned, "I love you so much, Lando! Fuck!"

Your loud groans disturbed the quiet peace of the air as Lando and you felt the wave of euphoria hit you hard, his hips stilled within you. His body shook, warming your walls and folds with an influx of white.

Lando let out a soft moan, chin falling into your shoulder while both your sweaty bodies pressed together. You could still feel Lando's cock within you, giving every last dribble of cum to you.

"I love you, I love you, I love you.," Lando's hoarse voiced mantra made it's way into your ear. He planted a lazy kiss onto your shoulder before turning his body to face the ceiling. "Fuck, I love you so much, Y/N."

You turned on the side of your body, leaning on your hand. Your eyes were weighed with exhaustion but nevertheless you smiled at him. "I guess I should buy more dresses often," You joked.

You could feel Lando's body rumble with a gentle chuckle. His hand reached to move your sweat-ridden hair behind your ears. His blue eyes trailed over your face, in awe of how he had gotten this lucky in his life. The woman he loved so much was right next to him and he hoped forever.

Lando smiled at you, bringing your fingers to kiss them. He briefly thought backed to the small box he had managed to hide away in his closet. Three podiums. He was going to get three podiums and make sure that ring adorned your finger.

"Love, I'll buy all the dresses you want. And I'll take them off for you too."

#f1 x reader #mickyschumacher #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1

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