#i hope this is a good answer i tried very hard
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heyyy el
requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise
lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3
mhm ty
Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)
Word count: 2.2k
Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)
Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim
There’s more but I forgot
Nsft utc<3
Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.
Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.
Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).
The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.
“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”
“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.
“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”
Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”
You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.
“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”
You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.
“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”
“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.
“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.
Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”
Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“
“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.
“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.
“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.
“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”
How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”
Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.
“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.
“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”
#🔥 𝔎𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔟𝔬𝔵#arlecchino x reader#Arlecchino#arlecchino x you#arlecchino smut#arle smut#arlecchino genshin impact#arlecchino blog#arlecchino genshin#genshin impact#arlechinno genshin#arle#arlechinno x reader#genshin wlw#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin smut#genshin arlecchino#genshin impact arlecchino#arle genshin#Peruere#the knave#genshin impact fanfics#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#lol#have a good night anon#you truly deserve it
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Hi! Idk if your requests are closed or not so feel free to ignore this but I’ve been going through a really tough time and I don’t have time to even breathe anymore so I was wondering if you could write something where Hugh just comforts the reader thanks!
safe with me (one-shot)
summary: hugh knows you've been having a difficult time and he hopes that he knows just what you need to help you feel better. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: n/a, comfort / fluff, no use of y/n. word count: 701 a/n: to this anon, i'm so sorry that it took this long for me to fulfill your request. i hope things have gotten better since you requested this and if not, my inbox / messages are always open. thank you for requesting this (as i've been having a hard time myself with just life) - this was very cathartic and therapeutic for me. hope you enjoy. and as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.
Hugh knows you’ve been having a tough time lately, can see a change in your behavior even though you tell him that you’re fine. You smile at him, tell him that everything is okay, but Hugh knows that everything isn’t. Whenever you come home, he can see the distress and the exhaustion written all over your features and when he pulls you into his arms when in bed, he can feel the tension in your shoulders.
It’s been like this for the last few weeks and Hugh doesn’t know if there’s anything that he could do that would help, that would alleviate the stress you’re feeling. If he could, he’d take it all away – whatever it is, Hugh would do anything to make you feel better.
So, when you text him that you’re working late tonight, it gives him enough time to put his plan in place. He grabs two glasses of wine and your favorite white wine and ascends the stairs to go to the master bathroom. Hugh runs a warm bath for you, lighting candles around the bathroom. He looks around and bites his lower lip, slowly opening the blinds to reveal the skyline of the city.
Hugh then jogs back downstairs to grab the bag of rose petals that he purchased earlier that evening and walks back into the bedroom. He scatters the rose petals on the white tiled floor and pours a good handful into the water. He hears his phone chime, but doesn’t have enough time to look at it when he hears you step inside the apartment.
“Hugh?” you call out, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you ascend the stairs. “You in the room?”
“Yeah, baby!” he answers. Hugh looks up when he sees you enter the bedroom and when your eyes meet his, he’s sure that he has done something wrong with the look on your face. Quickly, he steps out of the bathroom and walks over to you, his large hands coming up to rest on your hips. “What’s the matter? Is this too much? I just–”
Tears trickle down your cheeks and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck. Slowly, Hugh’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against him. “I’m not okay,” you whisper, voice trembling.
“I know, baby,” he says quietly, moving a hand along your back. “But that’s okay,” Hugh reassures. “I’m right here.”
You cry against him, feeling like the last few weeks are finally catching up to you. You had tried to push it aside, tried to make yourself feel better, but it only pushed it further down. Being in Hugh’s arms, you finally feel like you can breathe, can finally get a glimpse that things will be okay.
“I ran you a bath,” he whispers, turning his head to place a soft kiss on your temple. “You up for it?”
You pull back and look up at him, wiping the tears away from your face. “You didn’t have to…”
“I know,” Hugh leans in and pecks your lips lightly. “I wanted to.” He releases his hold on you and instead reaches for your hand, leading you into the bathroom.
You look around and bite your lower lip, tears again pooling at the corner of your eyes. “Hugh…”
“Too much?”
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Hugh smiles and turns to face you, gently reaching up to remove the blazer you’re wearing. “Far from it, baby. Now, let me take care of you. Will you let me do that?”
You nod slowly and look down to see your blazer pool at your feet. “Okay,” you whisper.
Hugh hooks a finger under your chin, slowly lifting your gaze to meet with his. “Whatever you’re going through, I’m right here with you, baby. Now, let’s get you in the bath. You’ve been tense and I think you need a massage.” He smiles and pecks your lips lightly, pulling away only to help you disrobe the rest of your clothing.
You let out a relieved breath. For the first time in weeks, you feel the weight slowly begin to lift off your shoulders and that’s all thanks to Hugh.
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman requests#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman comfort#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman x reader#rpf
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just a quick little drabble bc i’m think about 2013 the wolverine logan.
yk the drill, minors dni.
it’s a quiet night. You’re sitting on the couch with Logan by the fireplace. It’s a little chilly outside and Logan arrived home from work five minutes ago and plopped right down on the couch. Sitting back, undoing his tie, spreading his legs and throwing his head back, letting out a deep sigh. You plopped right down next to him with a cup of tea in your hand, hoping it would warm you up a little bit. It’s been silent for five minutes now. Just sitting in each other presence. He looks up at you with his head still thrown back. You took the opportunity to break the silence.
“How was work?” you finally said.
“Stressful.” he exclaimed with an unamused look.
You frowned slightly, “I think i know something that could cheer you up tho….” it was hard to say it without giggling.
“I’m not in the mood, princess” He threw his head back again, closing his eyes.
You knew it would be wrong, to be a fucking selfish little brat, especially when he was tired from work. But you couldn’t help it, it’s just too fun right?
You slowly rises your legs up so that your knees were touching your chest and sat with your back against the arm of the couch. You slowly tiptoed your legs closer to him. You’re plum ankle socks coming in contact with his crotch. Slowly rubbing your foot against the tent growing in his pants. You gave him a cheeky little smile and his eyes grew dark.
“Cmon, sweets don’t play this game with me” his gruff voice broken by a choked back moan.
He was so obviously getting worked up. And it made your panties dampen thinking what he was gonna do next.
He grabbed your legs softly, caressing them as he did.
“I’m serious honey”
You couldn’t help but giggle at getting under his skin so fast by something so small.
But much to your surprise, he threw your legs off of him and grabbed your face, smushing your cheeks together.
“ You wanna act like a fuckin’ brat? Hm? You wanna be taught a lesson so bad right? Huh? I’m speaking to you princess, it’s disrespectful to not answer.”
“I- I’m sorry” you tried to say but it came out as a tiny whisper.
“Yeah I know you are, but that’s not enough for me” his voice came out so demanding, it made your core clench around nothing.
“Get on your knees, now.”
You wasted no time doing so, not wanting to disobey and rile him up even more.
He swiftly placed your upper body over his right knee and your legs were now on either side of his other knee.
“You wanna play so badly, go ahead. Do what you need to do.” He grunted.
You felt your face heating up by his tone and the very vulnerable position he had you in here.
“I’m sorry, Logan…” you pouted.
“Mm-mm you don’t get to call me that anymore, sweetie” God, he made your tummy twist.
“I’m sorry, sir” you whined.
“Mm, was that so hard sweetheart?” he said, groping your ass then landing a harsh smack that made you squeak.
“Go ahead, baby no one’s stopping you. Do what you want to” You knew he wanted you to grind on his knee so you can see how much of a desperate little slut you are. And as much as you wanted to continue being a brat, you also know that that’s what you’re dying to do.
Another harsh smack landed on your ass making you mewl and jerk forward causing friction against your cunt.
“Fuck sweetie, your princess parts getting nice and wet for me? Can smell you already…” He groaned.
The friction felt so good that you involuntarily started grinding your cunt on his knee.
“Thaaat’s it. See how much fun we can have when you’re a good girl?” Another smack landed on your pink tinted cheeks, this one a little softer than the other two.
“Mm, yeaaaa gonna cum, sir” you whined out.
“Oh yeah? You gonna make a mess in those little panties? Hm?” he was taunting you but it was just what you needed to send you right over the edge. You felt your eyes roll back into your skull as a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. His word turning your brain into a mushy mess of submission.
“Thereeeee we go baby, what a sweet girl.”
You couldn’t even register a thought other than feeling his overwhelming dominant presence. Your brain just consisted of him, him, him. And it felt so good. No words came out of your mouth but he already knew what you needed.
“Come here” he brought you fully onto his lap so you’re straddling him. You buried your face in his neck and he caressed your back.
“Need you, Logan.” was all you manage to get out.
He let out a hearty chuckle and pulled you in for a kiss, thrusting his hips up slightly to remind you of the very large tent in his pants.
“I think we should take this part to the bed yeah?”
this is completely self indulgent and also my first time writing something so elaborative. so i’m sorry if it makes no sense lol just wanted to get my thoughts out there. also was not proof read so sorry for any grammatical mistakes :/
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The True Meaning of Fear
Warnings: NSFW, Arachnophobia, Choking, Very Violent Oral, Abusive behaviour, Fear Play, Non-Con, Devils Who Are Deviling.
AN: I'm having fun writing more angsty and loving stuff for other characters like I mentioned in my update post, but sometimes you just got to write some fucked up Raphael stuff to clear your palate a bit. Seriously: mind the warnings. It’s…yeah…pretty fucked. I will be seeking professional help and saying some Hail Mary's to repent for my sins🚶♀️➡️Enjoy! 🫶
”Pleeease, Raphael,” she sobbed. ”It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Please what?” he asked with a smile and a soft tone that made him seem like the perfect image of innocence. “We are only having a conversation …”
She was not buying this attempt at lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew him. He had brought her to a cell in the bowels of the House of Hope. Had he simply wanted to talk, he would now have done it here.
“I will ask you again,” he said, still in that soft tone. “What did you see?”
She gave a small sob and shook her head. His yellow eyes narrowed slightly at her, but the smile stayed on his lips. He was in the cell with her too, on a chair in front of her sobbing form on the floor.
“What was it that frightened my little bird so much that she neglected all of her duties? I do so hate to repeat myself…”
Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to hold in more tears.
He had come home to find his house in complete disarray. Multiple dead debtors had laid scattered across the floor, as they had tried to defend the house against intruders. He had found her shaking in the corner of his office. A powerful fear spell had made her hide instead of dealing with the intruders or alarming Raphael.
He had been furious when he found her. He had lost a small fortune in gold and an invaluable staff that dated back to the early days of the Netheril Empire. He had yelled at her, but due to her fearful state, he did not receive the reaction he wanted. She had been too out of it to properly react to his words, so he took her here instead.
She could see from the way his tail flicked and the way he drummed his claws on the arm of the chair that he was running out of patience. She had to give him an answer.
“Death,” she lied and dried her tears with her sleeve. “I saw my own death.”
The corners of his mouth turned upwards in an amused smile and gave a huff of laughter.
“Death, hm?” he repeated. “Are you truly such a simple creature? I find that difficult to believe. If death was what you feared the most, you would not dare lying to my face in such a manner. Try again. The truth this time, if you would be so kind.”
She started shaking again and she could feel her skin become clammy. She had a good idea what would happen if she told him. She also knew what he would do to her if she did not. It was hard to decide which was worse.
“Come now,” he said, his tone softer again. “You will receive no judgment from me. Is it something embarrassing? Something completely irrational? Those do tend to be my favorites…”
She remained quiet.
“Or,” he said and looked at her with a bored expression. “I could bring the Omuan dreamcatcher in here, present you to every fear known to man, and I can deduce what it is from there. I’m certain that Hope would not mind if we borrowed it for the day.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No-no. Please don’t.”
She had seen how Hope had been after her time with the dreamcatcher. She was an empty shell of a person after those sessions.
She swallowed hard and looked at the floor in front of her.
“Spiders,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve never liked spiders…”
“Ah,” Raphael said with a satisfied smile. “A classic.”
She looked around. Her skin was tingling at the thought. She was already becoming paranoid.
“When did you acquire this fear? Were you always afraid of them?”
Her hand shot to the back of her neck where she felt a tingle. Nothing. It had only been her hair touching her. Her skin was becoming increasingly sensitive.
“As a child,” she said.
“Do elaborate,” he purred with a smile.
Her breath hitched at the memory a bit.
“I was in my bed,” she explained. “I turned to lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. I saw it just before it fell down into my face.”
“Mm,” he hummed. “That does sound rather unpleasant.”
His eyes slowly turned upwards to look at the ceiling above her. She flinched and looked up. Nothing. Raphael chuckled at her movement.
“I can almost hear your heartbeat from over here,” he purred. “Such a pretty sound…”
“I beg you, Raphael,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”
“Shh-sh-sh,” he hushed gently. “We are only talking.”
He leaned forward slightly in his chair.
“I am a jealous man, my dear. It’s one of my less attractive qualities, I’m afraid, but it is so. So, you must understand how it irks me to find that your fear of me is only second to that of the eight-legged vermin you seem to hate so much.”
Her hand darted up to her hair where she scratched her scalp. She swore that she could feel them everywhere, even though she knew that it was only her fear that made her feel things. For now, anyway.
She felt something hit her shoulder from above and squealed. She brushed her shoulder in a panic and swore that she felt something furry touch her hand as she did. She quickly moved her body away from the wall she had been sitting against, closer to Raphael and let out a whine. Her eyes searched where she had just sat but once again: nothing.
“Tell me,” Raphael said in an amused tone. “What do you think causes this fear of yours?”
She was practically sitting between his legs now. He ran his claws slowly over her scalp and it made her shiver in her overstimulated state. She wrapped both her arms over her head like a stubborn child refusing to let their parents comb their hair. She knew that she was pathetic, but she could not control it at this point.
Raphael brushed two claws against the back of her neck in a featherlight touch, making her flinch again. He still wanted an answer, and maybe as long as she spoke, he would not do anything. She quickly tried to construct a sentence in her scattered mind.
“I—I don’t know,” she said. “Too many limbs maybe. I don’t know.”
“Well,” he said with a mocking laugh. “I am one limb short of eight in this form. That doesn’t make you fear me any more than your eight-legged friends, evidently. It must be something else, mustn’t it?”
His claws tapped her arm in a way that mimicked a spider’s legs, and she flinched away from him. She moved back to where she was sitting before. She could see on his face that he was enjoying every second of this.
His smile widened as he unstretched one hand and snapped his fingers with the other. A fat, long-legged spider hovered over his hand, and she started crying again. She did not want to look at it, but on the other hand, if she did not, she could not know where it was. She watched in horror as the small creature clumsily and frantically tried to move in the air but could not.
Raphael studied it with a bored gaze while she pleaded for him to stop.
“Have you ever noticed how the creatures humans fear irrationally are rarely mammalian?” he mused over her sobbing. “Spiders, insects, snakes, birds…I do suppose rats and mice are an exception, but there is a theme, isn’t there?”
She had backed herself into the corner of the room. She could not get further away, and she was still uncontrollably crying.
“Cats, dogs, horses…Feeble-minded creatures, but the human need to anthropomorphize makes you believe that they are perhaps not so different from yourself. A spider, on the other hand…”
She let out a long whine as he pinned the spider to one position in the air and made it hover slowly towards her face. She screamed when it came to a stop in front of her. Its legs were still moving, but it was facing her. She could not breathe.
“It’s scared,” Raphael cooed mockingly. “Terrified, like you. Yet you cannot sympathize with it. Your brain will not let you. So much for human compassion, hm?”
He got up from his chair. He snapped his fingers, and the spider disappeared. He leaned down slightly and loosely put his hand around her neck. The claw on his thumb dug into her as he tilted her head back to look at him.
“Look at me.”
She whimpered and looked up at his face.
“Tell me, my sweet,” he purred. “What is it like to stare into the eyes of a creature and realizing that they do not work like you? That they do not have feelings in any way that you understand them? That there is nothing human in there…”
She looked into those yellow eyes of his and felt the same way as he just described.
“Terrifying…” she muttered.
“Good,” he said in a low growl, smiling at her. “Terrifying, yes.”
He snapped his fingers, and she felt something on her shoulder. She frantically tried to move away, but Raphael’s grip around her neck tightened. He pushed her head back against the wall.
“Don’t. Move,” he said firmly. “You are not leaving this cell before you realize that the only thing in this world you will ever need to fear, is me. Serve me well, and you will never have to fear at all…”
She felt the spiders furry legs move slowly over her skin. She gasped for breath as her tears started rolling down her cheeks again. She knew that Raphael would not stop this before she did as he said. His grip loosened when he saw her freeze instead of continuing her attempt to flee.
He let go of her and stood up tall to admire her pathetic state on the floor. He began unbuttoning his doublet while he watched. She felt the spiders legs on her collarbone, slowly making its way across her chest. She sobbed quietly and did everything in her power not to move.
“I think it likes you,” Raphael purred in an amused tone.
He hung his doublet over the chair. He was only in his white shirt and pants, and she could now see just how excited the whole situation was making him. His erection strained against his pants. He walked closer to her so that he was now towering above her.
He slowly tipped her head back with a claw under her chin.
She screamed but the fear had now paralyzed her so much that she could not move even if she wanted to. There were hundreds of them above them on the ceiling, and they were all the size of a palm. The scream turned into a sob as she stared upwards.
He was smiling in an almost fond way as he feasted on her terrified expression. She felt his hand cup her cheek. He wiped the tears on her cheeks with his palm, before moving his hand to his now freed member. He gave it a few lazy strokes, using her tears to lubricate his length while he watched her with a heavy-lidded gaze. He gave a content sigh.
He put his thumb and index finger on each side of her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to open her mouth.
“If I feel teeth, I will show you the true meaning of fear,” he warned.
He ran the tip of his cock over her bottom lip, smearing his precum on her trembling mouth. He pressed his cock inside and her mouth closed around it. A deep groan escaped his mouth.
“Such a good girl,” he purred with a smile.
He began slowly moving in and out of her mouth with languid thrusts. His hand moved to where the spider had nestled in her cleavage to pick it up. He gently placed it on her head, making her sob around his cock. She choked as she forced herself not to bite him. He growled in pleasure.
“We are making such wonderful progress, my dear,” he said. His voice was slightly breathier and huskier now. “I believe that you are beginning to understand… Fear does not excuse negligence.”
Her eyes closed shut as she could feel the spider’s legs on her face. She whimpered, but the sound came to an abrupt end when he shoved his cock further down her throat. He gently shushed her and caressed her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She could not breathe.
She gagged but he did not seem to care. The sounds she made, the way her crying and trembling was making her throat feel, the way she looked so utterly pathetic: it was pure bliss for him. He suddenly snapped his fingers. She felt the spider on her face disappear. Her eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling: nothing.
She did not get to revel in her relief before Raphael started fucking her face with hard, violent thrusts. His hand clasped around her throat again in a hard grip. She could not breathe at all, and she started squirming and panicking. Her limbs flailed as she tried to get away, but her back was up against the wall. There was nowhere to move.
She tried pushing him away, hitting his legs, but he was unmovable. She looked up at him with panicked and pleading eyes, and it only seemed to excite him further. He did not cease his violent assault on her face.
“I lost a small fortune,” he growled. “All because of a frightened, stupid, little girl.”
She tried everything to move, but his grip on her only tightened when she did. Soon, she would not have the energy to fight anymore. Her throat was hurting so much. The grim thought that this might be how she died flashed into her mind, making her panic even worse.
“Nothing would excite me more than watching the life leave your eyes,” he growled as if having read her thoughts. “Instead, I think I will let this be a reminder to you, dear girl: the next time you feel tempted to let your fear control you, remember what it gets you… Nothing.”
She stopped moving and she could feel herself slowly beginning to lose consciousness. He shoved his cock as far down her throat as it would go. Her nose was brushing against his pelvis. It was painful and she felt like throwing up. He gave a deep groan as he came down her throat.
She gasped for breath when he pulled out. She coughed hard. She spat a mix of blood, cum, and saliva onto the floor in front of her as she wheezed for breath. She felt like throwing up, but she couldn’t.
When she finally looked up, Raphael was watching her with a small smile as he began buttoning his doublet.
“I trust you have learned your lesson?”
She nodded quickly. She could not stop coughing, and every cough felt swallowing knives.
“Good,” he purred. “You did well…”
He turned and opened the door to the cell with a snap. She tried to scramble to her feet to follow him out. Just as she had gotten up off the floor, he stepped outside the cell and closed the door in her face.
He smirked as he looked at her for a long moment. Then his eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling above her. Her lips began trembling again as she kept looking at him.
“Korrilla will come get you in the morning,” he said in a cold, even tone. “If I have decided to forgive you by then…”
There was the softest thud as she felt something land on her shoulder. Then another on the floor. Then another as she felt something fall off her head. Then another.
There were no more tears in her, and no screams came out of her ruined throat. Just a quiet, broken wheeze came out of her mouth as she looked upwards.
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Ice is woken up way too early by insistent knocking on the door of his room. Wondering what could possibly have caught on fire before 0800 in the morning, he opens the door trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and freezes when he's met by a very angry looking Nick Bradshaw.
"I really didn't think you'd stoop that low," Goose scoffs at him.
Ice glances down at himself. He's wearing dark boxers with no embarrassing pattern and the old USNA shirt he sleeps in is a little worn out, sure, but also clean. He knows his hair is a mess but c'mon, he just woke up, whose wouldn't be?
He concludes that he has no idea what Goose is talking about. "Uhm, what?"
"Don't play stupid, Kazansky. You know what you did."
Oh. This is about something in the past.
Ice still has no idea what though. "I... have not had a hangover in quite some time, so yes, I can say I remember just about everything I did lately-"
Goose interrupts him with a hissed, "That's really all you have to say to me?"
"-and I have no idea which of those things could have possibly pissed you off this much."
"Fuck you too, Tom." Oh no, not the first name. "What did Mav ever actually do to you?"
Ice is just more and more confused by the second. Is he still asleep? Is that why nothing's making sense? Mav did... quite a lot to him just a couple days ago, but Ice sincerely doubts Goose actually wants to hear about any of that.
"Uhm- not much lately?" he tries slowly. "Which I guess is actually impressive now that I think about it?"
"I'm not fucking around, Tom," Goose growls, leaning forward to get in his face. "Why did you punch him?"
"I... punched him?" Is this a joke? It's way too early for this.
"I fucking saw the bruise," Goose doesn't sound like he's joking. "Mav's refusing to tell me anything. What the fuck did you do to him?"
Ice tries to take a deep breath but no, he's not lacking oxygen, his lungs feel fine, his head doesn't hurt and this isn't making any sense. "You saw... the bruise?"
"Tom, I swear to God I'm gonna give you a bruise if you don't stop repeating what I'm saying and start answering!"
"Okay!" Ice exclaims, lifting his hands palms up because threats from Mother Goose should never be taken lightly, even by a very confused recipient. "Okay, uhm... what bruise did you see?"
"The one on his hip!" Goose shouts and Ice realizes too late that that was the wrong thing to say. "Is there more than one? What the fuck, man?"
"I- the bruise on Mav's hip-" Ice winces. He can't exactly say he didn't put it there, but he's not sure that admitting it's not really a bruise is such a good idea either.
And thankfully, before he's forced to find out, there's shouting from down the hallway. "Goose!" And that's Maverick running toward them. "Goose, stop! Ice didn't hurt me!"
Goose politely gets out of Ice's face and huffs. "How'd you know I was here?"
Mav is breathing hard, grabbing at his chest - did he run the whole way here? And he's still wearing his sleeping shirt too, with a stain on the collar, though he's taken the time to put on actual pants at least.
Gasping for air, he still does his best to answer. "Well I- I woke up and you weren't there and... You got so pissed last night, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But I swear, Goose-" he straightens up and raises his voice, "-Ice didn't punch me!"
"You don't have to defend him just because we used to be friends." Well, that emphasis hurts. But Ice is sure- he's hoping that they'll be fine once this gets cleared up.
"You can still be friends!" Mav throws his hands up in a frantic gesture. "He didn't do anything to me I didn't want!"
Goose freezes on the spot, anger melting into confusion at record speed. "What?"
And because apparently, Ice before 0800 is in the business of digging graves, he clears his throat. "Yeah, I... didn't exactly make that bruise with my hands."
And because apparently, Mav is a little shit in any and every situation, he meets Goose's wide eyes with a grin. "The one on my thigh, though-"
"Nope!" Goose raises his hands. "No, shut up, I don't need to hear more! I..." he hesitates, looking back at Ice. "I am very sorry for waking you up, Ice. And for yelling at you... And I'm gonna give two some space now! Happy for you both!"
He backs away slowly, giving them two thumbs up until he turns around and sets out at a fast pace.
Ice looks down at Mav and sighs, "That went well. You couldn't have just told him?"
Mav's smile dims. "I didn't think he'd react that badly," he mumbles. "Just wanted to keep you to myself for a while."
That's so damn sweet.
And, well. Mav is here, looking all ruffled and soft from sleep, and there's no one else around.
Ice puts a hand on his shoulder. "You do have me for yourself, Mav." And then he leans down to kiss his boyfriend.
#this is silly#silly plot bunny wouldn't stop following me around#it just wanted to play don't think about it too hard#icemav#tom iceman kazansky#pete maverick mitchell#nick goose bradshaw#top gun#top gun 1986#top gun fanfiction
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The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??
Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.
Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)
Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.
Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.
Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!
Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.
The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.
Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.
Other au highlights include:
Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”
Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.
The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.
Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.
#rookanis#rook#rook ingellvar#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#morticia ingellvar posting
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what do you think happened to Kai chisaki's parents, i mean he had toend u in the orphnge some way or another,
I can’t say for certain, there are no big hints in the story. I can come up with some plausible scenarios though.
First you gotta keep in mind that Afo is behind everything, always, no matter what. He’s the reason Kai is the way he is, so I think there was a long stream of plans and schemes that resulted with Kai Chisaki. But that’s just what I think.
His parents could’ve had strong quirks, so they had Kai in an attempt to make an even better quirk, like a Todoroki family situation. Overhaul is a very specific quirk, strong and complex. Afo found him, or maybe set his parents up himself in the hopes of getting a Kai, took him from his parents (and maybe killed his parents or his parents could’ve worked for Afo and been compliant with abandoning him) to raise him into a villain.
His parents could’ve been random people and Kai developed a fourth generational quirk (quirks that form unrelated to genetics) and there had been a death or a fright of some sort, ending in Kai’s abandonment. Afo snatched him then.
His mother could’ve been a college student who forgot to take the morning after pill and felt too young to raise a child, and Kai just so happened to have the perfect quirk Afo needed to make his vessel!
Either way I don’t think he ever knew his parents. I think he was abandoned at birth for god knows why, and didn’t know what a family felt like until the Yakuza. He never thinks about or speaks about a biological relative during his arc to relate to how good(?) of a parent his Pops was. So, you can only assume that he has none. Anything that reminds him of those feelings of abandonment trigger him GREATLY. The biggest example being when his Pops told him if he can’t follow his rules Kai can leave the Yakuza, then Kai put him in a coma. Or how he repeated his childhood experiences on a little girl who was abandoned because of a death caused by her fourth generational quirk.
People call his version of love “twisted” or “corrupt” when really it’s just desperate. He’s trying so hard to not be abandoned again even though Pops had shown no sign (other than that once) of doing so, and he is desperately trying to prove to himself that he deserves to have a family by “repaying the yakuza”. Even in the end Pops didn’t abandon him, and Kai tried so hard to get to him and apologize despite his odds.
In short, the most plausible scenario is that Kai’s parents abandoned him at birth, most likely with a bit of Afo interference, and perhaps because of his quirk.
Hope this answered your question!
#bnha#mha#kai chisaki#overhaul#chisaki kai#afo#all for one#eri#eri mha#pops shie hassaikai#pops#shie hassaikai boss#shie hassaikai
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I'm curious about the one character rule, is there any specific reason for that?
Oooh, you just opened a 12-ft bag of Excited Nattering.
• Your knowledge is your character's knowledge. I'm gonna be transparent here, I have a massive pet peeve against metagaming (giving a character knowledge they don't have). With multiple characters it's insanely easy to accidentally give one character the knowledge of another, by accident or on purpose to give them the upper hand. If you and your character have the same amount of information, you can't transfer unknowable knowledge.
• Population Control. one thing I noticed about the roleplays of my youth was how big the Clans got, how fast they grew and how often the allegiances were mostly inactive characters. When you combine in-character births with "poof" characters and outsiders joining without rhyme or reason, it causes a Clan to explosively grow in size. There was very little opportunity to gather the entire Clan together, either due to inactivity or sheer volume, and much of the time I felt as if characters in all roles got lost in the shuffle. With fewer cats, the spotlight broadens and everyone can have their time.
• It makes being a parent or mentor special. With everyone having one cat, I can make roles to prevent certain players from seeing the lore. This makes them dependant on more experienced members to teach them, and everything they learn will be a true and genuine revelation associated with that more experienced member that brought it to them.
• It makes it easier to keep secrets. Some plots may be kept quiet for a certain period of time to preserve the shock factor! If everyone had multiple characters we'd have fewer replies written out of genuine emotion ;)
• It requires less time & brainpower. Remembering all the social ties and historical bullet points of multiple characters can prove overwhelming for some, and it can lead to crossed wires too! With only one character you only have to remember things as they associate to your memory - because this reflects your character's memory. Additionally, when you pop into Summitclan for replies, there's no steep expectation or pressure to be in multiple threads with multiple characters at once. You can rest easy knowing you'll only ever have to reply to one interaction at a time, so you'll never have "threads stacking up uncontrollably in the background while i cry on my desk." (<- me.)
• It means I can put your character in your nickname. That way everyone can figure out who is played by who simply by swiping left on Discord and viewing the member list. Easy correspondance!
• It's neat! It makes Summitclan stand out a bit, I think!
But those are (major) secondary reasons. The big reason has its own name I gave it:
The Joy of Immersion.
This is a little difficult for me to explain so bear with me!
Essentially, I first learned about & joined a wcrp when I was 12 (i know! i know! i was a toddler!) and I had one single cat now lost to time. I was so intimidated by the community at hand and volume of the lore (... relative to 2012, anyway) that I decided to keep one cat for now and I would learn as I read others' posts. I didn't have them for long, as petty tween drama burned the place to the ground. But the experience of seeing the fanClan from the perspective of a single cat was formative.
It felt like the difference between, like, The Sims and Facade.
When you play The Sims, you have everyone's thoughts and opinions and intentions directly at your fingertips. Sure, there's some significant autonomy, but if a housemate suddenly gets up mid-convo you can check and literally observe their intent to go eat yucky Mac and Cheese cus their hunger bar is at a cool 25%. There's no guessing when it comes to the people you live with, and in conversations with neighbors you can still see how they feel about you in clear text and color-codes.
In Facade it is a god damn minefield. At nearly every turn these weird gliding people are verbally sucker punching you. To this day I learn about new strings of dialogue that blow me down. In the moment, typing out your little statements, you have no way of knowing whether your statement will unlock the next step of the game or if Trip is going to ferry you directly out of his house like an unwanted Amazon package.
In short... Facade doesn't tell you anything it just victimizes you, and that was what it felt like.
I was only in control of one tiny piece of a great big bicycle, and everyone else whirled around me with their own lives, their own events, their own perspectives - there was no way for me to read them all, and no way one single character could appreciatively tour them all. I had an opinion about some characters that were not shared by anyone else, because we had two different experiences of that character. And because I only had one cat, one set of eyes, I never found an opportunity to see the character another way: impressions had already been set down, the characters already had history, and there was no re-doing it for a different reaction. Plus, every plot point I put into the air was mostly controlled by other players: I couldn't use older or higher ranked characters to help me along, I had to depend on the interest and cooperation of others.
A consequence of that was a serious, genuine sense of pride when my cat progressed. I managed to get her from 6 moons to about 2 years old (which was probably like, 3 months irl, you know how it goes) before the place fizzled away. Because I had spent much of my time learning the lore directly from my mentor and Clanmates both on purpose and through osmosis, and because I generally had only one lens to learn it through, I felt like I had actually accomplished something when the Clan leader messaged me about her warrior name. It felt like I had actually proven myself in a tangible way, which I could go back and point to - "That was the thread where I learned X thing about Y landmark," "[Name] told me about this rp's Warrior Code in this thread."
I have been chasing that precise feeling forever in order to share it with others. It was such a unique and fascinating experience that overcame my entire body during her warrior ceremony, something I had only ever felt when accomplishing things in my real, actual life! What a wonderful feeling to cultivate in others!
My greatest sadness is that, unavoidably, the first generation of members on SCC won't be able to feel that kit-to-elder accomplishment for their first exposure to the lore. But I hope that in the future, when former members come back and see a painting their character made on a rock 6 real-world years ago was retouched in a thread yesterday, that feeling will make up for it.
#ask#thanks for writing in!#i hope this is a good answer i tried very hard#but some things are meant to be long i suppose!
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forgive me if this has been answered previously, but what were the circumstances around vasco finding out about machete's death? i'm heartbroken but fascinated to think about what his immediate reaction could have been
They don't live together, Vasco was at home in Florence at the time. Either someone who knew of their relationship managed to alert him of the murder, or he showed up in Rome to visit him just like countless of times before, and one time he was just gone. He would've missed the funeral for sure, and since Machete doesn't have family, his belongings would most likely end up escheated and subsequently liguidated by the church. He certainly wasn't remembed fondly, for the most part it was like he had never been there in the first place.
I don't want to get into the details but of course he was devastated. The threat of death was a constant presence in Machete's later years, he survived at least a couple of assassination attempts and his health kept getting worse. I think he tried to keep Vasco in the dark about how bad things were exactly, but Vasco didn't miss how his fear of death ramped up in intensity towards the end. So it wasn't a complete surprise when he found out they had finally gotten him. For a long time he had hard time not blaming himself for it, thinking whether he could've done something to prevent the outcome, whether his presence would've changed how things played out. Over the years he learned to live with the sudden and violent end of their relationship, but the first few years were extremely rough, the whole ordeal broke him in unprecedented ways and he never fully recovered to his previous state.
#Vasco had never been devoutly religious but after Machete's death he went through some kind of combo of spiritual phase and crisis in faith#because for years Machete had tried very hard to be the best and most godly version of himself#and in return God did very little to alleviate his fears and troubles#and on the other hand Vasco knew that towards the end Machete's morals had eroded significantly#and he had become alarmingly resentful and vicious#and if there was heaven he was worried that the weight of sin his darling was drenched in at the moment of his passing#might prevent them from being reunited there#over the years he went through all the stages of grief in prayer form#and spend a significant sum of money buying indulgences in hopes it might make the difference#answered#tattwege-edgweg#Machete#Vasco#Vaschete lore#but I'm reminding you that I personally like to believe that a good ending alternative is possible for them#one that doesn't end quite as bleakly
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Hiii! May I ask for the top 5 French songs? Could be all-time favs or current ones. I haven't listened to anything French in ages and I would gladly reach for some.
Have a great day! :)
Hiii! Thank you so much for asking ♡ I spent the whole day thinking about it and I am (again) gonna cheat a little and do two tops I hope you'll forgive me 🙈
Top 5 all time favorite french songs :
"3eme sexe" by Indochine - specifically this live version, tho I also dearly like the original from 1985
"Virages" by Yves Duteil - i do NOT like the original instrumentation but this guitar + soft percussion version? ♡♡♡
"Je te rends ton amour" by Mylene Farmer - she's the artist I've seen the most live in my life (ノ*°▽°*)
"Le bal des Laze" by Michel Polnareff - but frankly, he has tons of gems through his whole discography
"Rimes feminines" by Juliette - this one's a utube because that live version? lives rent free in my brain (´꒳`)♡
Top 5 of recent(-ish) french songs :
"Le chrome et le coton - Lafayette remix" by Jerome Echenoz, Anna Jean - this specific remix beats both the original and all other remixes imo
"Le Monarque des Indes" by Pierre Lapointe - actually canadian but still in french! this one accompanies all my summers since 2020
"Ivre d'amour" by The Rodeo - it's a song about lycanthropic love, what else can I say?
"Charisma" by Daisy Mortem - there is always something a little ... sticky in their songs despite the strong electro aspect of it that works on me 100%
"Une danse de mauvais gout" by Mansfield TYA and Odezenne - Mansfield TYA are a long time fave of mine, and the way the voices go together?♡♡♡
#thank you very sincerely for asking#♡♡♡#but let me tell you picking only 5 was SO HARD lol#I tried to pick personal faves that avoided like - the big french classics (like yes I do think Brel and Ferrat and Barbara are brilliants)#(but so does everyone)#the first one is uh very Teen Ragondin-core lol but they are still my absolute faves to this day#if you like them I'd rec all the discography of those 5 artists (Y. Duteil too even if I know he's very has-been lol)#the second is more ... recent-ish songs I adore and also genuinely consider very good#like objectively if that makes sense?#anyway! I hope you'll find something to enjoy in there =D#the ragondin answers#music
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#i asked my upstairs neighbor to not vacuum at 4am because theyve done it several times#and she answered with WELL I DONT MIND IT WHEN MY FRIEND UPSTAIRS DOES IT SO THAT SEEMS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM#IT WAS LIKE 5 SECONDS ANYWAY AND I HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING ELSE EVER SO MAYBE YOU SHOULD PLUG YOUR EARS#she was like yeah i spilled cat litter so i had to obviously#like... okay if it was time sensitive maybe idk use paper towels or idk a broom get creative AT 4 FUCKING AM or just wait????#and then she was like WELL ANYWAY HOPE YOU FIND THE REAL CULPRIT because i mentioned how her moving stuff at night wakes me up#why is asking for other people to care a bit so hard 💀💀💀 why does it feel like shit#why am i feeling like im evil for asking her to be considerate at night time??#she said WELL I DONT MIND VACUUMING AND IT WAS REALLY SHORT ANYWAY so much#that i had to say well im still asking you to stop bc its against the houserules#and shes friends with so many other people in the building i bet now everyone knows me as the weird naggy bitch 💀💀💀#i havent been able to sleep properly in weeks because someone drumms until midnight and when i fall asleep after that theyre loud upstairs#and i know many people here have night shift jobs and i honestly slept better when i did too#but thats not an excuse to not even try to be quieter at night#i know it doesnt feel good to be accused of something and i tried to word it very nicely and not as harsh but come on#im an exhausted anxious person with issues i dont think im asking too much pls dont respond like this
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I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!
Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.
And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.
Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.
So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.
And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.
And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.
This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.
When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.
#the magnus archives#tma#jonathan sims#helen distortion#my rambles#i am not normal about them#helen did nothing wrong in her entire life#(aside from being a real estate agent)#Her story is just so tragic to me#She could have been better#she had choices#thats the entire point#but the choice was between a thankless attempt at retaining her personhood#with absolutely no support and no one who cared about her#or giving into the comforting lie that she never had a choice at all#She had choices and she made them but i don't think anyone could reasonably expect her to have done any better
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Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!
Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?
Sexy time with the fancy man please!
A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!
It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.
Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.
So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.
“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“
He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.
“… I’ll take all of it.”
You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.
This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.
It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.
What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.
They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.
But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?
Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.
You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.
It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.
“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”
Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.
“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”
His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.
“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.
“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”
Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.
“So soft, gods what a beauty…”
It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.
His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.
You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.
Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.
“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”
He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.
“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”
Part 2?
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila
#5k event#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#elf x reader#elf x human#elf smut#teratophillia#teraphilia#terat0philliac#terato#exophelia#fat reader#plus size reader#monster x human#monster smut#monster fucking#anonymous asks#ask answered#asks open#monster imagine#monster boy oc#x reader smut
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homework | matt sturniolo
contents: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt
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notes: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!
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i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.
“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”
“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”
matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”
“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”
“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.
- ♡ -
i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.
matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.
“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”
“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.
i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.
“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.
“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”
“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”
“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.
“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.
i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.
matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.
i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.
“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.
“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.
“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.
“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”
the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.
i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.
matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.
“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.
“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”
“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.
“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.
“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”
“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both.
i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.
“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.
“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.
“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.
matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.
i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.
“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”
“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.
“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.
matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.
“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.
matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.
“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.
matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.
he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.
“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”
“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0
for this fic: @sturnstar169 @anitahunt333 @mattgirl4lyfe @fratboychrisera
#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt x y/n#sub!matt#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo
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Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩
But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶
(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)
𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 .ೃ࿐
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+
𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆
"I miss you."
Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.
"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."
You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.
"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."
You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?
Ah...
There was an answer to that.
As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'
You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.
Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.
So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.
That was the end of your story.
Or so you thought.
"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"
Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.
You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.
Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"
This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.
"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.
Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."
You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"
"She won't be there."
Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.
With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."
You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."
Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."
You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.
Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.
A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."
Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "
━━━━━━━━━━━
The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.
The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.
You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.
You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.
You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.
Hell, you shouldn't be here.
You should go home.
It wasn't too late.
Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"
Well shit.
You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.
An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"
Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.
Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"
Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."
You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...
"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.
Speak of the devil...
You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."
Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"
Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.
You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'
"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.
"How important you are to Lando."
And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.
"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.
You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.
It was definitely too late.
━━━━━━━━━━━
To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.
He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.
"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.
"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.
You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."
"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."
Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"
"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.
"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."
Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"
You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.
"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.
And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.
"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.
Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"
Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"
You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.
"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.
You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.
You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.
"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.
You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?
Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."
You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."
You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.
"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."
Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.
"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.
"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"
Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.
Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"
"Lando!"
You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.
Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.
You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.
"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"
A surprise... yes it was.
You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.
You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"
You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."
The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"
You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."
Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."
Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"
You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."
━━━━━━━━━━━
About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.
You were exhausted.
You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?
You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.
There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.
Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.
Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.
Point in case: love sucked.
And you and Lando had not escaped from it.
You weren't sure if you ever could.
But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.
You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.
You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.
Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.
"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."
"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.
Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.
You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."
"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.
"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."
You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.
"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."
"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."
A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.
Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."
You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"
Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."
Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."
Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"
"Because I'm terrified!"
You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.
"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."
Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.
Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."
A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."
━━━━━━━━━━━
It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.
The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.
You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.
In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.
Things were... steadyish.
It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.
How was he holding up?
Whether he was still with his girlfriend...
Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?
But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.
While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.
Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.
Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.
But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.
You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.
You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.
"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.
The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.
The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."
Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.
You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.
To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."
You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"
"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.
The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."
You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.
Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."
You pressed your lips together.
There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...
But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.
"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"
"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.
You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.
"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"
"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."
Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.
As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.
His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."
In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.
━━━━━━━━━━━
"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.
"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.
Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.
Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.
The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.
Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."
You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.
A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.
You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"
You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."
As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"
You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.
"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.
The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.
Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.
He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.
"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.
"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"
Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.
The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.
But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.
"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.
"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.
You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.
Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.
Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."
He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.
You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"
Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.
You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."
Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.
You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.
Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.
"You're missing the show, baby."
Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.
"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.
You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.
"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.
"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.
"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.
You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."
Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.
━━━━━━━━━━━
You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.
In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.
With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.
"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.
Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.
You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.
Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."
You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"
The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."
"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.
Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"
"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"
"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."
You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.
"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."
Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.
"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.
"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.
You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.
You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.
Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.
A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.
Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.
His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.
"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.
You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.
You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.
Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.
The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.
You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."
Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.
"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.
Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.
You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.
You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.
His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.
Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.
Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."
A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."
Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.
Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.
He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.
You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.
His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.
Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.
"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.
Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.
Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.
You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.
A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.
Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.
"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.
"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.
The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...
Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.
"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.
He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."
You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.
Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.
The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.
You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.
With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.
A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."
His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."
Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.
Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.
His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."
Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.
Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."
Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.
And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.
Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.
"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.
"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."
You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.
The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.
You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."
Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.
You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.
You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.
You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.
Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "
Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#mickyschumacher#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut#f1 x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris oneshot
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Old Man
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.
warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)
Ellie was the one to start it all,
I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.
Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.
“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.
"Hey-" He'd protested,
"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"
And well from then on things had... escalated.
You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.
You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.
"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"
He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.
"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"
"I don't need glasses"
"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"
"'m sure alright" he grumbled
"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"
"darlin'"
"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful
"I don't need 'em"
And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.
Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.
He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.
It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.
"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"
But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.
As I said, he was struggling.
A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...
"Let me do it"
"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.
"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly
And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid
"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.
"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.
"What did you just say?"
A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-
He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.
"Jesus babe" you laughed,
"What did you say?"
His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.
You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered
"I said I'm sure you could"
"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"
"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes
"You know what"
"no I don'-"
But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours
"you called me an old man, darlin'?"
He was a different man from a minute ago.
This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.
"Baby I was jokin-"
"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"
Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.
You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-
"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"
"J-Joel" you whimpered
"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"
When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror
"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear
"y-yes"
"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"
You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.
"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him
"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned
The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.
"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision
"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"
Oh shit
Oh fucking shi-
If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.
You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.
"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"
"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure
"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"
But it was- Oh it was more than enough.
And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.
You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-
And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.
Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"
It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.
he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.
"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly
"You're not an old man" you promised
"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could
"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity
He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.
"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes
"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"
"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"
"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly
"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"
#i miss seeing anthony makie and sebastian stan tougether#i miss the old marvel in general#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#joel miller x f!reader
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