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forsworned · 4 months ago

Text

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips.

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man.

“Say please,” You wave your wand around.

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit.

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now.

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin.

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself.

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight.

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture.

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

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@multifand0midi07 @surenotsorry @forgottensomewhere @teenagellamaangel @nijiru @deliverancesix

@milk-man3000 @russellsimp @madzzz0797 @kittykatgorl @nerd-without-a-cause @mikasakuchiki @haleyaaah

@hiken-no-stark @shellyshellshell @livingoutsidethetardis @jemomgershippingco @kruegerismymalewife

@ki-ssshot @essentialbeats-blog @dmitriene

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lcvemiyuki · 7 months ago

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“when they get jealous” | hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃��𓂃

content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else

warnings: disgustingly cute, kenma x reader + tsukishima x reader are established relationships, fem!reader, osamu x reader (y/n is perceived as shorter than osamu)

characters: kenma, tsukishima, osamu

a/n: more! bc these also have been stuck in my head... (not proofread sorry!)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Kozume Kenma

'he would get distracted to the point of jeopardizing a game'

It was a weekend afternoon, and Kenma had carved out some precious time to play solos in the gaming room. His specialty was first-person shooter games, and he stayed absolutely silent to focus; a pin drop could be heard from how quiet it was. Only the sounds of his game controller clicking resonated softly in the soundproof room.

You two shared the room, with back-to-back monitors and a personalized setup on each side. Occasionally, you would enter and play a game or two, leaving when you knew he had a stream scheduled.

Today was one of those quiet days, with Kenma fully immersed in his game. His noise-canceling headphones ensured nothing but the game’s audio reached his ears.

You entered the room, aware of his headphones, and left rabbit-cut apple slices next to his keyboard. The colors from his monitor illuminated the slices, casting a soft glow on them as his slender fingers worked like a well-oiled machine.

As you moved, your figure momentarily blocked his sight, and he glimpsed you holding a phone to your ear, a smile plastered on your face as you talked. Kenma's eyes lingered on you for a few seconds before his monitor demanded his attention again. Usually, you would make some sort of light contact to remind him you were there, a gentle touch or a pat on the shoulder.

But this time, you didn’t.

Instead, you turned to your side and plopped down on the plush chair, fully engrossed in your conversation. Kenma wasn't overly nosy, but he couldn’t help but peek out from the side of his monitor to observe you.

‘Who has your attention?’ he wondered.

Knowing he couldn't keep glancing your way without compromising his game, Kenma adjusted his headphones so that only one side covered his ear, leaving the other exposed to the outside world.

Kenma's focus split in half; he tried to concentrate on his game, yet every time he heard your wholehearted laugh, his eyes darted to you instantly. Your joy was infectious, and it pulled at his curiosity with an unfamiliar force.

“Tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds great!” Your voice rang out, clear and cheerful. Kenma's brows furrowed as he strained to make out more of your conversation. His concentration slowly dissipated, the multiple noises becoming a chaotic blend in his mind.

“I can’t wait to see you!” Your exclamation, followed by another giggle, broke his focus entirely. He turned his head fully for just two seconds, enough time for his character on screen to be targeted and shot.

The screen flashed red with ‘GAME OVER’ in bold letters.

Kenma's eyes did a double take as the realization hit—he had gotten distracted a bit too long.

He never lost a game—ever.

He yanked the headphones off, letting them hang around his neck as he leaned back in his chair. A long sigh heaved out, his worn-out hands finding their way behind his head as his legs spread apart for a more comfortable position.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, bro. Tell Mom I can’t wait to see you guys!” Now free from his game’s immersive audio, Kenma heard you loud and clear. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling a twinge of annoyance at himself for getting so distracted.

That really cost him a game—yet he couldn't help but feel his heart rate slow down after realizing you were just talking to your brother.

Lost in his thoughts, Kenma didn’t hear you approach until he felt the soft, slightly wet touch of your lips pecking his. His eyes slowly fluttered open to find you staring down at him with a confused look.

“You lost, Kozu?” Your eyes now drifted to his monitor.

He could only softly scoff at himself, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in his tone. “Yeah, I guess I did.” His lips pursed together, noting the twinge of sweetness they tasted.

He would never tell you the real reason, though.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Kei Tsukishima

'his smile looks indifferent, yet his eyes shot daggers'

The sound of someone’s cough echoed through the museum as you and Tsukishima passed through another grand exhibit. The exhibits grew slightly crowded at times, prompting you to lightly grasp the edge of his coat, careful not to fully grab him. His strides were slightly faster than yours granted his slight eagerness. Tsukishima turned his head, peering down at your hand clutching his clothes.

“Is this your way of trying to keep up?” His light eyebrows raised slightly in amusement before he reached back, taking hold of your hand to guide you instead.

“Excuse me!” a slightly loud voice echoed in the room, causing you to close your mouth before you could respond. You turned to face the source of the shout, only to find a young man staring right at you.

Tsukishima halted with you, turning his head around with a hint of annoyance at whoever was shouting.

“Do people not know when to lower their voices?” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As he was about to finish his sentence, he noticed the man making his way toward you specifically. Tsukishima didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes were solely focused on you.

Turning his attention to you, Tsukishima also noticed how your squinting eyes suddenly morphed into one of pure surprise.

“Y/N? Is that really you!?” the man exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

As the man launched into an animated recount of his recent adventures, Tsukishima stood by, feeling a pang of irritation.

Soon enough, a few others caught up to your classmate. Tsukishima couldn't miss the way it took them a few seconds to avert their eyes or the eager way they held out their hands to shake yours.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ‘How shameless.’

“This is my—” you began to introduce Tsukki, but he beat you to it, turning fully to face the group. “I’m the boyfriend.” His smile was anything but genuine.

His tone might have been friendly, but you could tell Tsukki was irritated.

Quickly realizing he might be upset about the abrupt interruption of your date, you hastily said your goodbyes to your old high school friend.

“Aw, c’mon Y/N, how about a reunion selfie before we let you go?” your old classmate nudged, pointing at the phone he was holding.

You awkwardly laughed, trying to think of a way to politely decline. But before you could say no, you felt a gentle but firm pressure on the small of your back, guiding you forward. You turned to see Tsukishima's long fingers splayed out against your back, his touch insistent. The action caused you to straighten up in response, feeling the solid reassurance of his hand.

You quickly took the selfie with your old classmate, offering a polite smile for the camera. Before you could say another brief goodbye, you noticed the three guys in the back all staring in your direction, only to quickly avert their gaze to some random object in the building.

Curious about what had caught their attention, you turned your head to follow their line of sight. Your heart began to race as you saw the reason for their sudden shift in focus.

Tsukishima, now several meters away, was turned slightly to the side, but his eyes were locked onto the guy next to you. His usual could-care-less demeanor was replaced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Tsukishima's glare was menacing as if silently placing a bounty on his head. His hands were comfortably placed in his pockets; his black glasses failed to mask the daggers he shot their way.

There was no mistaking it—he was jealous, and not just mildly so.

You quickly excused yourself, murmuring a final goodbye to your old classmate. You made your way over to Tsukishima, your steps quickening with each passing second.

As you reached him, you hesitated for a moment before gently placing a hand on his arm. His eyes flicked to yours, then quickly shifted away, focusing on anything but you.

“Tsukki,” you said softly, “Sorry that took so long.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, his tone begrudgingly agreeing.

“Were their stares bothering you?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“They were just...annoying,” he said, his voice clipped. “Like, read the room.”

A mischievous smirk played on your face as you interlocked your hand with his. “Is that why you were death-staring them like they were your sworn enemies?”

“Obviously. Anyone would with how noisy they were,” he replied, trying to sound indifferent.

He would never admit to it, but you could read him all too well.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Miya Osamu

'wouldn't care if a purchase or two gets put on the line'

One day, Atsumu, his doting twin brother, waltzes into the semi-busy shop with open arms.

“Take a whiff, boys—the infamous Miya blood mixes with success,” he says smugly.

Osamu doesn't even welcome them once he sees who it is—he simply deadpans and shoves the curtains to go in the back.

With a bright smile that reaches your eyes, you quickly greet the customers. The two unfamiliar gentlemen behind Atsumu had a muscular and tall build—likely hungry athletes in need of rewarding food.

‘Time to sell the whole shop,’ you think with determination.

Although you weren’t an official employee at Onigiri Miya, you wanted to help Osamu as much as you could. That included selling his delicious food to hungry customers.

You devise a quick game plan and target the first tall guy, hastily approaching him. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he examines the menu, trying to decide what to eat.

“Hi there! If you’re looking for something delicious, you can’t go wrong with our classic tuna mayo onigiri,” you suggest cheerfully, your enthusiasm catching his attention.

The tall guy’s face lights up at your recommendation. “That sounds perfect, thanks!” he says, his serious expression softening.

Just as you’re about to show him another flavor, Osamu suddenly walks directly between you and the customer, almost bumping into you. “You should try the natto,” he says, grabbing a natto onigiri from the display, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

The customer looks a bit taken aback, clearly put off by the sudden change. “Uh, I’m not sure about natto…” he says hesitantly.

You frown slightly, trying to salvage the situation. “Well, we have plenty of other options too—how about the umeboshi?” you suggest, stepping around Osamu to point at another onigiri.

Osamu, however, doesn’t move, effectively blocking your view. “Natto’s a specialty here. You should give it a shot,” he insists, practically shoving the onigiri into the customer’s hand, his eyes darting briefly to you and then back to the customer.

The customer looks uncomfortable, but Atsumu, ever the opportunist, steps in with a grin. “Look at ya, ‘Samu. Can’t stand to see Y/N sellin’ your onigiri to my pal, huh?” he teases, clearly enjoying the situation.

Osamu’s scowl deepens as he grabs an onigiri from the counter. “Shut up, ‘Tsumu,” he mutters before stuffing the onigiri into his brother’s mouth, effectively muffling his cackle.

Atsumu’s eyes widen in surprise, slightly coughing from practically choking on a rice ball.

Trying to pretend the twins weren’t going at it, mouthing silent threats to each other on each side of you two, you try to make a pitch once again.

“I hope you try out all, but it’s up to you!” you quickly put all three into the man’s hands and in doing so, your hand encloses them and gives it a slight pat.

The shuffling stops as you feel two holes being burned into the back of your head.

You could hear a soft chuckle as Osamu's large hands suddenly and slightly encircled your neck from behind. His weight leaned lightly against you as he crouched down a bit to join the conversation.

"Y/N's putting in quite the effort to sell you these, man. I'd say take them and enjoy," he remarked, his face close enough to yours that you could almost feel his breath against your ear.

With a subtle maneuver, you sidestep out of his grasp and guide the customer towards the register; the mess the very owner put you through just to sell these damn onigiris. You mentally roll your eyes as Atsumu continues to tease Osamu in the background.

As soon as the trio of athletes bid the shop goodbye, the door chiming softly behind them, your attention soon fell on Osamu.

You could feel a slight tension in the atmosphere, the remnants of the earlier exchange still hanging in the air. Osamu stood behind the counter, his back turned to you as he methodically rearranged the onigiri displays. His movements were precise, almost mechanical as if he were trying to distract himself from the task at hand.

"Why the face, Y/N?" Osamu feigned confusion as he went around the stalls to continue his organizing.

You stood by the register with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. "Oh, really," you began, "I mean, I get Atsumu—you guys always go at it—but that guy was just like any other customer, 'Samu."

Osamu paused in his task, his expression shifting into a thoughtful gaze as if pondering something. His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the counter before he finally met your gaze. "Yeah, but there's always something more to it," he said cryptically, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You tilted your head, intrigued by his response. "More to what?"

He chuckled softly, a glint of something indescribable in his eyes. "More to everything," he replied enigmatically, leaving you with a curious smile as he continued to work around the shop. His words lingered in the air.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

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gunpowder-gemini · 2 years ago

Note

Yeah the human body does that! Your skin is constantly producing oil. Google says it's about 1.45 mg per 10 cm² per hour, so in 24 hrs one hand would produce about 72 mg based on my hands and rough math. Not a lot but still! Skin oil is also why you get acne and shit.

my it technician ass staring at "Become hot enough for heat discoloration to appear and start spreading below the keyboard. "

HEAR ME OUT according to some threads on reddit, it could just be the oil from my hands burning into the laptop and nothing really bad happening on the inside. so the casing on the outside is a little messed up sure but the inside should be fine :D

#also your hands touch shit all day and you wash them a good bit so take my estimates with a grain of salt #but I do have to clean my keyboard and mouse at work every couple weeks #bc it does get oil build up from my hands #though I have very sweaty hands

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moonlightwritingf1 · 10 days ago

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“Merry Christmas, I miss you” | LN4

⋆꙳❅‧₊⋆☃︎ ‧❆ ₊⋆ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/n and Lando, who broke up two years ago, reconnect during the holiday season. Despite their past, they still have feelings for each other. They spend time together in London, rekindling their bond but agree to take things slow.

⋆꙳❅‧₊⋆☃︎ ‧❆ ₊⋆ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆꙳❅‧₊⋆☃︎ ‧❆ ₊⋆ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.9k

⋆꙳❅‧₊⋆☃︎ ‧❆ ₊⋆ author's note ━━━━━━━ inspired by Merry Christmas, I miss you by Alex Crichton

The Christmas lights twinkled along Oxford Street as the hustle and bustle of London’s holiday season began to take hold. Y/n had been living in the city for over five years now, and although she’d grown used to the frenetic energy of the streets and the continuous flow of people, there was still something magical about the city when the festive lights went up.

She stood by the window of her apartment, gazing out at the scene below, the cold winter air making her cheeks flush as she sipped on her cup of coffee. The Christmas decorations in the nearby stores reflected the mood of the city: bright, vibrant, and a little nostalgic. Her heart ached with an odd mix of warmth and longing. It had been years since she’d last seen Lando Norris, but every holiday season, when the world slowed down a little, memories of him came rushing back.

Lando. His name was like a soft whisper in the back of her mind, one she couldn’t quite silence. She thought about the time they spent together, the good moments and the bad, the laughter and the silence that followed. Their love had been real, fiery, and undeniable. But it had faded, as things sometimes do, and they had parted ways. The reasons were complicated—too complicated for her to fully understand at the time. But the one thing she knew for sure was that she missed him.

It wasn’t just the moments they had shared, but the person he had been to her: the friend, the confidant, the person who made her feel special in a way no one else ever could.

She sighed as she turned away from the window and placed her empty coffee cup on the counter. The day ahead awaited—her 9 to 5 job in a corporate office, a world she had come to navigate with the precision of a well-oiled machine. She had a routine, one that kept her mind occupied, but it was hard to ignore the hollow feeling in her chest. It was that time of year again.

As she pulled her coat on and grabbed her bag, her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. It was a notification, an email reminder about a work meeting. She glanced at the screen and absentmindedly picked up the phone, her thumb scrolling through the lock screen—until something caught her eye.

It was a text message. An old message from Lando.

"Hey, it’s been a while. Hope you’re doing okay."

Her heart skipped a beat. Lando. Of all the things she had expected today, this was not one of them. She hadn’t heard from him in months, and yet, his words stirred something deep inside her.

For a moment, she thought about typing a response—something witty, something neutral. But then, the message before that came back to her: "I miss you." It had been sent in the middle of the night, just after their last conversation, one that hadn’t ended well. A conversation where they had both said things they didn’t mean, had both hurt each other in ways that only people who once loved each other could.

She hadn’t replied to that message, nor had he to hers. Time passed, and she assumed they had moved on. But in that moment, reading his latest text, something told her that maybe neither of them had truly let go.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the keyboard, wondering if she should write back. But before she could make up her mind, the sound of her phone ringing cut through the silence. It was an unfamiliar number.

With a sense of curiosity and a touch of hesitation, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” The voice was unmistakable, though it had been so long since she had last heard it. Lando.

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this. Not today, not now.

“Lando?” she asked softly, almost unsure if this was real or just her imagination.

“I know it’s been a while. And I didn’t know if I should call, but it’s Christmas and... I don’t know, I just... I miss you.”

His voice was filled with a quiet sincerity that hit her like a wave. She closed her eyes, the words he spoke reverberating through her, stirring up old emotions she had long kept at bay.

“I miss you too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. It felt like she had been holding those words in for years. And now, with them spoken aloud, the weight of the silence between them seemed to lift, if only just a little.

“I’m sorry for everything,” Lando continued, his tone raw, as if the apology had been waiting for this moment. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I... I just didn’t know how to make things right.”

Y/n’s heart ached as she listened to him. She had always known that Lando wasn’t the type to let go easily, but hearing him speak so openly about his feelings brought everything rushing back. She thought about their time together—how happy they had been, how natural it all felt. She thought about the last time they had spoken, the hurt they had caused each other, and the awkward silence that had followed.

“I think we both made mistakes,” she said softly. “But I... I don’t want to go back to that place.”

“I don’t either,” Lando responded quickly, as though afraid she might misunderstand him. “But I can’t pretend I don’t miss you. And I know you’ve probably moved on, but I thought maybe... maybe this holiday we could just talk. Even if it’s just for a bit.”

She sat down on the couch, her mind racing. There was so much to unpack, so much unsaid between them. But at that moment, all she could feel was the pull of his words, the familiarity of his voice, and the undeniable truth that she had never fully gotten over him.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice uncertain. “It’s complicated.”

“I know it is,” Lando replied, his voice gentle. “But what if we just... take a chance? What if we talk, like we used to?”

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she thought about it. What if? What if this was the opportunity they both needed to finally heal, to finally find closure? Or was it just a fleeting moment of nostalgia that would only cause more pain?

“I don’t know what I want right now,” she confessed. “But... maybe we can talk. I’ll be in London for the holidays. If you want, we could meet up.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But then he spoke again, his voice full of hope.

“I’d like that. More than anything.”

The days leading up to Christmas were a whirlwind of emotions for Y/n. She couldn’t help but replay every word of their conversation over and over in her mind. Lando. The man she had once loved, the man who had been her world for a short but unforgettable time. And now, after all this time, he was coming back into her life—tentatively, cautiously, but with an undeniable desire to reconnect.

It was strange. She had built her life in London, created new routines, new friendships. But Lando’s voice, his presence in her life once again, was like a piece of a puzzle she hadn’t realized was missing.

The day before Christmas Eve, they finally arranged to meet at a small café near Hyde Park. It was a place they had frequented during their time together, a place that held so many memories. She arrived early, her heart racing with anticipation and uncertainty. What would it be like to see him again? Would everything feel the same, or had too much time passed?

She sat at a corner table, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea as she waited. The café was quiet, decorated with subtle Christmas touches. The scent of fresh pastries and coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the soft sounds of holiday music playing in the background. It felt like a dream, like she was waiting for someone who might never arrive.

And then, the door opened, and there he was.

Lando.

He looked just as she remembered, though maybe a little more mature, a little more grown-up. He smiled when he saw her, that familiar, crooked smile that always made her heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but full of warmth. “It’s really good to see you.”

Y/n stood up, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You too.”

They stood there for a moment, awkwardly unsure of how to proceed, before Lando moved toward the table. He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I wasn’t sure how this would go,” Lando admitted. “But... it feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Y/n nodded, her chest tightening with emotions she couldn’t quite name. “It does.”

There was a pause, both of them trying to find the words to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years. But in that moment, neither of them needed to speak. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just... familiar. They had shared so many moments of quiet together in the past, and somehow, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Finally, Lando spoke. “I’ve missed this. Missed us.”

Y/n swallowed, the lump in her throat growing. “I’ve missed it too. I’ve missed you.”

The words hung between them, a bridge across the years. Maybe they weren’t ready to dive into everything just yet, but this was a start. A chance to rekindle something that had never truly disappeared.

The café around them hummed with quiet conversation, the sound of cups clinking and the soft notes of a Christmas carol in the background. But for Y/n and Lando, everything else seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, sitting across from one another in a small, cozy corner, each of them unsure what came next, but both silently acknowledging that this was something they had both missed.

Lando leaned back in his chair, his hands wrapping around his coffee cup as he studied her, as if trying to read the layers of emotions that flickered behind her eyes. Y/n met his gaze, her fingers gently tracing the rim of her tea cup, the warmth of it contrasting the chill in her heart. Time had passed, yes. But the connection, that undeniable pull, still lingered.

“I didn’t expect to see you again like this,” Y/n said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but the truth of her words settled between them. “I mean, we left things... complicated.”

Lando nodded, the familiar ache of regret in his expression. “Yeah, I know. I’ve thought about it a lot. About how we ended. And... I’m sorry for that. For everything.”

Y/n looked down at her tea, feeling the weight of his apology settle on her shoulders. The past had been messy—too messy to ignore—but they had both been so young then. And people changed. Or at least, she hoped they did.

“I wasn’t perfect either,” she replied after a beat, her voice quieter now, the soft vulnerability in her words a stark contrast to her usual guarded nature. “I... I don’t think either of us were ready for what we were trying to make work. We were just... different people back then.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “I get that now. But I think I always knew that you were someone who had the power to change everything for me. I never stopped thinking about you, Y/n. Not even after everything.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words. It wasn’t easy hearing that—especially after everything that had happened—but in a way, it felt like a balm to the wounds she had carried for so long.

“I never stopped thinking about you either,” she admitted, the confession leaving her lips before she could stop it. It felt good to say, but also scary in its simplicity.

Lando smiled softly, a hint of relief crossing his features. “Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to let go of the past. Because it’s still a part of us. Whether we want it to be or not.”

The honesty between them was tangible now, as if they were peeling back the layers of their past, looking at the pieces they hadn’t yet sorted through. But there was something new in their interaction—something lighter. As if they had both learned the hard lessons of their time apart and were trying to figure out where to go from here.

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them rushing to fill the space with words. The awkwardness was gone, replaced by something deeper, more comfortable. Y/n wasn’t sure what this meant—whether it was a one-time conversation or the beginning of something more—but she allowed herself to just be in the moment, something she hadn’t done with Lando in years.

“Do you still race?” she asked suddenly, the question escaping her before she could think about it. It felt like a way to bring them back to something familiar, something that had once defined their relationship.

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes brightening. “Yeah. I’m still driving. Actually, I’m back in the UK for a little while before the season kicks off again. Thought I’d spend some time here, you know, with friends and family. And... maybe catch up with a few people I’ve been missing.”

Y/n smiled at that. He’d always had a way of making everything sound easy, even the parts of his life that were anything but. The way his eyes sparkled when he talked about racing had always drawn her in. He had always been passionate about it, almost to an obsessive degree, and it had been one of the things that had kept her intrigued when they were together.

“Still the same, huh?” she teased, her smile soft and genuine.

Lando shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “Some things never change.”

She laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the laughter wasn’t forced. It was real. It was easy.

But then, the moment quieted again. The pull between them hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had only deepened. There was so much left unsaid, so much history that hadn’t been fully explored, and so much uncertainty about what lay ahead.

“I’ve missed this,” Lando said again, his voice gentle but full of emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond to that, not right away. She could feel her heart starting to open, the wall she’d built around herself slowly crumbling. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected the conversation to feel so... easy. It was as if they hadn’t been apart for over two years. It was just them again, the two of them in their little bubble of comfort, surrounded by the noise of the café but not really hearing it.

“Lando, I... I don’t know where this is going. I don’t even know what I want,” Y/n said, her voice trembling slightly. “But I’m willing to talk. And maybe... maybe that’s a good place to start.”

Lando’s face softened at her words, his eyes full of understanding. “That’s all I can ask for.”

They both sat back in their chairs, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air, but the tension had lifted. It was as if they had taken a small step toward healing, toward whatever was meant to come next.

The conversation flowed after that, easy and effortless. They spoke about their lives since they’d last seen each other—about their work, their travels, the changes they had undergone in the years apart. The gaps in their story didn’t feel so wide anymore. They were talking, like old friends, and with each word spoken, it felt like they were putting pieces of the puzzle back together.

By the time they were ready to leave, the café had emptied out, the evening darkening around them. Lando stood and pulled on his coat, smiling at Y/n.

“Do you want to walk around for a bit?” he asked, his voice tentative but hopeful.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, glancing out the window at the lights of the city, the soft glow of the holiday season hanging in the air. She thought about her life, about everything that had led her here, and realized she wasn’t ready to walk away from this just yet.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling up at him. “Let’s walk.”

The air was crisp and cold as they stepped outside, the faint scent of winter hanging in the air. London had taken on a new kind of magic with the Christmas lights twinkling in every direction, and the streets were quieter than usual, as if the city itself had slowed down to take in the holiday season.

They walked side by side, neither of them rushing to speak but also neither of them feeling the need for silence. The walk was comforting, grounding, like coming home after a long journey. The cobblestone streets of London felt familiar, and yet, everything was new. They were different people now, two years older, two years wiser, and yet, as they walked together, it felt like nothing had changed.

“How’s Monaco?” Y/n asked, breaking the silence as they walked along a quieter street. She wasn’t sure why she asked—it wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer, but it felt like something to start with.

Lando chuckled. “It’s the same as always. Beautiful, but a little lonely sometimes. The races take up so much of my time, but I like being there. It’s home, in a way.”

Y/n nodded. She’d always known Monaco suited him, with its fast pace and endless energy. It was the kind of place where someone like Lando could thrive. But she also knew it came with its own set of challenges. She wondered if he ever thought about what life might have been like in London, with her.

And then, as if reading her thoughts, Lando glanced at her, his expression more serious now. “What about you? How’s London treating you?”

“It’s good,” she replied, her voice soft. “I’ve built a life here, you know? It’s... not always easy, but it’s mine. I’ve got a routine now. I like the work I do, the people I meet. But there’s always a part of me that feels like something’s missing. Maybe that’s just the city, or maybe... maybe it’s something else.”

Lando gave her a small smile, the kind that spoke volumes. “Maybe it’s not the city. Maybe it’s... us.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she stopped walking for a moment, her breath catching in the cool air. “You think so?”

Lando stopped beside her, his gaze steady but warm. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I’m willing to find out. If you are.”

Y/n didn’t say anything right away. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to dive into anything again, but the truth was, a part of her had never really let go. A part of her had always wondered what could have been if things had turned out differently.

She met his gaze and smiled softly. “Let’s see where this goes.”

And just like that, the future seemed a little less uncertain, and for the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to believe in the possibility of something new—something that began with the past but could lead to something far more beautiful.

“Merry Christmas, Lando,” she said quietly.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n,” he replied, his voice full of meaning, as if he knew this was the beginning of something special. Something they would figure out together, one step at a time.

The next few days unfolded like a scene from a holiday film, the kind of perfect winter story Y/n had once only dreamed about. Lando stayed in London for the Christmas holidays, and their conversations continued to flow easily, the air around them charged with an electricity neither of them could ignore. They spoke often—about everything and nothing at all—reconnecting in a way that felt effortless, as though the time they had spent apart never truly existed.

But beneath the warmth of their rekindled friendship and tentative steps toward something more, there was a tension, a quiet awareness that neither of them was quite ready to put into words. They were getting closer, but old wounds, old fears, still lingered like ghosts between them.

It was a Friday afternoon, a few days after Christmas, when Lando called her out of the blue.

“Hey, are you free tonight?” he asked, his voice light, but there was a hint of something more—something he wasn’t saying.

“I think I can make time. What’s up?” Y/n replied, a smile tugging at her lips as she sat on her couch, the Christmas lights twinkling from across the room.

“I was thinking... maybe we could go out? A bit of a... celebration, maybe?” His voice was tentative, as if gauging her reaction.

Y/n paused. She had no real plans for the evening—her work had slowed down for the holidays, and she hadn’t had much to do but spend time with friends and enjoy the city. “Celebration? What’s the occasion?”

Lando chuckled softly. “Well, for one, it was Christmas. And two... we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

It wasn’t just the words he spoke—it was the tone. There was something there, something deeper. He was offering more than just a simple night out. The invitation felt like an unspoken acknowledgment of what had been hovering in the air between them: the undeniable connection they still shared.

“I’d like that,” Y/n said, before she could overthink it. She wasn’t sure what they were to each other anymore, but she was willing to find out.

That evening, they met in the heart of the city, under the glow of a Christmas tree that had become a landmark in Covent Garden. The streets were quieter than usual, the chill in the air inviting people to gather indoors, but the lights above made the place seem like a winter wonderland.

Lando was already waiting when she arrived, standing near a bench, his breath visible in the cold night air. He wore a simple black coat over his hoodie, the casualness of his outfit a contrast to the sharpness of the racing world he lived in.

“You look amazing,” Lando said when he saw her, his voice full of warmth as he stepped forward.

Y/n smiled, grateful for the compliment but even more touched by the sincerity in his eyes. She’d never forgotten the way Lando could make her feel seen, truly seen, in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating.

“Thanks,” she replied, her heart fluttering slightly as she adjusted her scarf. She had dressed carefully for this evening—something simple, elegant, but casual enough to blend into the winter night. She didn’t want to overdo it, but at the same time, she wanted to look her best.

“I was thinking of taking you to that little bistro by the Thames,” Lando said, his hand gesturing in the direction of the river. “It’s a bit of a walk, but the view’s amazing at night.”

“That sounds perfect,” Y/n replied, falling in step beside him as they began walking.

The streets were quieter now, the hustle of the city fading into the background as they walked side by side, just the sound of their footsteps echoing in the air. It felt like a peaceful moment, the kind of evening that made you forget the weight of the world for a little while.

They talked about everything and nothing—about their favorite places in London, about friends they’d both known in the past. But there was a noticeable shift in the air between them. The comfortable, easy banter they shared was laced with something deeper now.

Lando would glance at her occasionally, his eyes lingering just a little longer than usual. And Y/n? She felt it too—the pull, the unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface. It was impossible to ignore, even as they tried to focus on lighter topics.

When they arrived at the bistro, the place was quiet, almost magical under the soft lighting and flickering candles. The Thames stretched out beside them, and the glow of London’s skyline reflected off the water. They were seated at a small table near the window, where they could watch the lights twinkle in the distance.

The conversation flowed naturally, but the undercurrent between them was undeniable. It wasn’t just the memories or the history they shared. It was the way their eyes met, the way their laughter seemed to carry in the air between them, the way the silence felt more like a shared understanding than anything awkward.

After dinner, they walked along the river, their breath visible in the cold air. The lights of London were beautiful that night, reflecting off the water like stars. It felt like the perfect evening—a perfect moment in time, and yet, there was still that lingering tension.

They reached a quiet spot near a bridge, where the view was uninterrupted, just the two of them and the glowing city around them.

“You know,” Lando said, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About us. And... well, I just wanted to say, I don’t want to rush anything. I just want to take things slow. To see where it goes.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that until now. For all the uncertainty between them, for all the hesitations, it was clear that he wasn’t trying to push her into something she wasn’t ready for.

“I don’t want to rush either,” she replied, her voice softer now. “But I also... I don’t want to ignore what’s between us. I’ve missed this—this connection, this feeling.”

Lando stepped a little closer, his presence comforting yet electrifying at the same time. “So, what do we do with it?”

Y/n looked up at him, feeling the pull of his gaze, the electricity between them almost tangible. “I think we just... let it be. We let it grow, slowly. No expectations. Just us. Seeing where we are now, and where we could be.”

Lando smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made Y/n’s heart race in her chest. “I can do that.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the distant hum of the city. Y/n felt like the world around her had slowed down, as if time itself was holding its breath.

And then, without thinking, she took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Their eyes locked, and before either of them could second-guess it, Lando’s hand gently cupped her cheek, and he leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of them were afraid it might break the fragile bond they had been building. But as they kissed, the world around them seemed to fade, and it felt right. It felt like coming home.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed with a mixture of warmth and vulnerability. Lando’s eyes searched hers, as if looking for confirmation, as if asking, Is this okay?

Y/n smiled softly, her heart racing in her chest. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

The days after that kiss were a whirlwind of emotions, both exhilarating and frightening. They spent more time together—lunches, walks through the city, cozy nights in watching movies. Each moment felt like a building block, a step toward something neither of them could fully name yet. But they were in it together, taking things slow, letting the past breathe and the future unfold in its own time.

New Year’s Eve arrived, and with it, the promise of fresh beginnings. Y/n and Lando found themselves at another celebration, this time with a few close friends. The night was filled with laughter, champagne toasts, and the feeling that something wonderful was about to happen.

As midnight approached, Y/n found herself standing next to Lando, the soft glow of the fireworks outside reflecting in his eyes. The year had changed, and with it, something between them had shifted. They were no longer just two people reconnecting after time apart. They were something more—something new, something they were building together, brick by brick.

“Happy New Year, Y/n,” Lando said, his voice filled with hope and tenderness.

“Happy New Year, Lando,” she replied, her hand finding his as they shared a quiet smile.

And in that moment, Y/n knew that whatever came next—whatever the future held—it would be worth exploring, together. With Lando by her side, she was ready to embrace whatever came next.

After all, sometimes the best things in life come when you least expect them. And this? This was just the beginning.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #ln4

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freshpeachpulp · 17 days ago

Text

handle it | unravel

Ellie Williams x wife!reader / 2.3k words / smut, use of restraints, some unserious moments.

You and your wife have had a dry spell of sorts and you believe it’s time to switch things up!

oh friends it’s been so long, i hope there’s still sub!Ellie enthusiasts out there. this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot moment lmao! i hope u enjoy :) btw i have a prequel to this hidden in my google docs somewhere if anyone is interested

You peek over your shoulder and dim your screen before typing on the keyboard. You don’t even know why you did that, you’re literally sitting on the floor against a wall and it’s midnight. Ellie’s fast asleep in the bedroom, or maybe she’s watching tv, you’re not sure. You’ve been in your office all evening, finishing up a project due for work.

You open up a new tab and type in the website. Www.yvesapple.com pops up on your screen. You see, your sex life with Ellie has gotten a little… monotonous. There’s still passion, and you both orgasm, but it’s predictable and doesn’t happen as much. You’re both happy, you know she loves you, but you’re dying to switch it up. Your married friends warned that the bed can get a little dry over time, and that trying new things is a must. You’re both so busy with work and life’s responsibilities, you don’t have the time to get tipsy and fuck in every room of the house like you once used to.

So here you are, on a website searching for something new. In the shop tab you click ‘all’ and scroll through. You don’t know what you’re looking for, something, anything. You scroll past the ball gags and bdsm gear, that’s not something you’re ready for at the moment. You’ve always been a bit vanilla so they kinda scare you a little. You keep scrolling past straps and dildos —you and Ellie already have a good selection.

You scroll but stop when you see a lingerie set. It’s a long silk sash tied intricately around the model's body. As you scroll through the pictures available you notice there’s many variations, an almost endless amount of ways to tie it over your body. The set comes with a matching restraint and a blindfold. It’s been a while since you’ve dressed up for Ellie, the most being your business attire and makeup you wear to work, this could be fun. You quickly order it and close the tab before heading to bed, too giddy to finish your project tonight.

—-

A week later you're at work when you get a notification that your package has arrived. You’re thankful that Ellie works late spearheading a construction project today, you can surprise her. You race home after work and shower, and begin wrapping the silk around your slick, oiled body. Across your chest like a bandeau, crossed over your belly, around your back and bring the rest over your crotch and you tie it in a little bow at your hips. There’s extra silk that you tie under your ass to bunch up the fat.

It took you a while to adjust but you’re pretty impressed with the way the red silk intricately accents your body. You look irresistible. You leave the restraint on the bed and throw on your usual unsexy robe and wait for Ellie to come home.

Her truck rolls into the driveway about an hour later, though it feels like eternity. She steps out and slams her door, disgruntled. You’ve noticed it’s become more common for her to be irritated after work, she’s in need of a good release too.

You hear the front door open and call her name with the cadence you use when you need her help with something. “Ell-ieeeee!”

“What?” she barks, her voice is piercing and you know she’s upset but you can’t help but feel turned on.

“There’s something wrong with the closet door babe, I need you to take a look at it,” you tell her, and you watch as she grunts something to herself while kicking off her work boots. She begins undoing the buttons of her plaid shirt and follows you to the bedroom. You gesture at the closet and move behind her as she observes it.

“There’s literally nothing wrong,” she says, exasperated. “Look. I literally just got home from wor— Oh…“

She turns around in time to watch the robe slip off your body. Her jaw slacks before she licks her lips, the agitation on her face morphing into excitement. You shimmy before twirling around and bending over so she can see how the sash barely contains your round ass and swollen pussy.

“Ooh freaky girl,” she teases and it makes you flush. She walks behind you and grabs your ass, observing the silk ties wrapping around them. Her hands are calloused and rough, a sharp contrast from your soft, warm skin. She squeezes and you can feel your pussy pulsate.

“Aht! No touching baby,” you tease, playfully swatting her hand away. It takes all of your willpower to break the contact. You guide her to the bed and she notices the restraint.

“Can I try that on you Ellie? Do you want it?”

“Yeah I do,” she says. She grabs your chin and pushes your head up so she can kiss you from behind. She grabs your neck and grinds into your ass, and you can feel the world melting around you. You two haven’t kissed this passionately in months, and you feel dizzy thinking about all the things you want to do with her tonight.

Ellie pulls away from the kiss leaving you wanting more, and she knows it. She thrusts her hips into your ass, it catches you off guard and you fall over the bed.

“So. You gonna take the lead tonight, cupcake? Or do you need me to handle it?” You look over your shoulder and she’s so smug, she gently smacks your ass and watches the fat jiggle. You could explode from the tension in your belly and the pressure in your pussy. All of you wants to surrender and let her tie your ankles to your wrists and fuck you slowly with her thick veiny strap. But you had a plan for how you wanted the night to go.

“Let me,” you manage to muster, crawling across the bed. “Come,” you say, grabbing the restraints and pointing to the front of the bed.

Ellie strips of her work jeans and shirt, leaving her in boxers and a wife pleaser. She then sits on the bed and rests her back against the headboard. You seductively crawl towards her, maintaining eye contact the whole time and make a show of mounting her hips, swaying your hair and poking your chest in her face.

Ellie smirks, eyeing your body with reverence and anticipation. She holds her hands out to you and you pin them above her head and begin tying them to the headboard behind her. You’re thankful it’s open-framed, so you can tie her to it like a post, but it’s more awkward to tie her than you thought. You're awkwardly hovering over her, trying to remember just how that knot was supposed to go.

“Need a hand babe?” Ellie laughs to herself, pleased with her pun. She stays completely still for you, content to watch you struggle with the tie, and your cleavage is in her face. Who is she to complain?

She begins pressing open mouthed kisses on your breasts, sucking on the cleavage that’s showing, paralyzing you with pleasure. You’ve managed to tie her hands but you can’t pull away from her mouth just yet. In one swift motion Ellie bites the red silky fabric and yanks it down with her teeth, your breasts springing free in front of her face. You shriek when she quickly takes a nipple into her mouth, too pilant and needy to pull away when she hums and sucks on it. The sash unravels around your body, the same way her mouth is unraveling you. Ellie then pulls away and looks you deep in your eyes, leaving you exposed and burning to the touch.

“I thought you were supposed to be taking the lead tonight?” she mocks, licking her lips. “You know you want more. C’mere baby,” she says, all smooth and low. She knows just how to lure you in like a siren’s call. You almost fall for it, but you regain your composure.

“You love this mouth baby, imagine if my hands were untied. Let me go and I’ll—mumph!”

You turn around and shove your pussy in her face, “I’ll give your mouth something to do!” you grunt, grinding your pussy along her face. Her muffled moans vibrate against your swollen lips, shooting euphoria through your veins.

Ellie, defiant as ever, is determined to get the upper hand. She sucks and licks with hunger and ferverency. She knows what makes you feel good, what makes you fall apart.

You become so lost in the pleasure, reality loosening around you that you jump when she bites your clit. You jolt forward on the bed, body trembling and shiny from sweat. She didn’t bite you hard —she’d never hurt you, just enough to sting for a moment. Ellie chuckles behind you, satisfied with your reaction.

“I’m gonna make you pay for that,” you vow, looking her dead in the eyes.

Ellie licks her messy, wet lips and smirks, she wants to push you to the limit, see just how many buttons she can press, “I look forward to it,” she replies.

That’s how she ends up like this.

“Nnghh” she huffs and writhes, pursing her lips and glaring at you, defiant as ever. Her wife-pleaser has been ripped from her body, and her boxers are long gone, a dusty pink blush covering her from her cheeks to her chest. Her arm muscles are bulging, and her abs are tense. Her body is slick with sweat, you watch as a drop of sweat falls down her breast and over her nipple. They’re so pert and puffy as if they’re bursting with milk.

You’ve been at it for almost an hour now, finding all the ways to drive her body crazy then pull away before she can orgasm. First, you ripped her clothes off and kissed her down from her neck to her thighs, reveling in the way her skin grew hotter to the touch with each kiss. You reached her swollen pussy and opened her lips to flick her heavy clit. She moaned, deep and guttural, growing wetter with each flick of your tongue. You pulled away and kissed her lips, making her taste herself while you dipped your fingers inside to massage her hungry pussy.

You held a vibrator to her clit, watching her writhe as she neared her peak before stopping and using it on yourself in front of her. Made her watch helplessly as you spread your legs and pressed it to your swollen clit, your face contorting while you grabbed your breast to massage it. You watched her eyes grow dark out of jealousy. It should be her making you cum.

It’s sadistic how much you’re enjoying this power over her. Ellie’s enjoying it too, she knows the safeword, she just doesn’t want to use it. You place your face close to hers and she grunts, pursing her lips trying so hard to stay tough.

Her pussy is so wet and throbbing, needy and commanding attention, it’s irresistible not to touch. You dip two fingers inside her pussy and flick them around, fast and sloppy. Droplets of her juices spurt from her with every thrust. “Let me come,” she groans, deep and guttural, her wrists red from straining against the ties. Her body is ready to release and then you pull away, and she looks as if she’s about to cry.

She’s in such a compromised position, disheveled and sweaty and pilant, and you know just how you want to finish things. You push a girthy dildo in her tight pussy. “Augh!” Ellie moans as her muscles pulse and throb around the phallus. She’s paralyzed with need. She’s desperate like she’s about to explode and all she has to do is ask nicely.

“Please baby,” she begs, throwing her head back and something inside you breaks. You hover over her again and she’s unrecognizable, she’s so submissive and docile and completely at your mercy. Her eyes lock with yours and they’re pleading. You reach for the hilt of the dildo and begin to pump it, obscenely loud squelching fills the room and her breath begins to hitch.

“Oohhhh baby don’t stop,” she moans while you press kisses against her sticky, flushed neck. Her arms strain against the silk and you stop to untie them. She gasps from relief and grabs your head and your shoulder, pulling your body flush against hers. She’s gone now, her eyes are glazed and words aren’t coming to her, all she wants is for you to get her there. She whines as you resume pumping the dildo into her, wrapping her legs around your waist and gripping your hair to try to pull you close.

Your arm is burning and you feel grateful for Ellie’s strong arms and fingers that have pumped you for hours on end. You push through the discomfort for her and you’re rewarded by a gush of thick liquid that lands on your forearm.

“Holy shit baby!” you exclaim, licking it off.

“Mmmmm,” Ellie moans, completely fucked out. You clean her up and curl into bed beside her.

—-

“Call off from work,” Ellie says. You’re awakened by her voice and greeted with the morning sun peeking through your window. “Im gonna make you pay for what you did,” she declares.

That’s how you end up with your ankles tied to your wrists while Ellie reminds you who’s the boss.

thank you all for reading this far i hope u enjoyed :)

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie the last of us 2 #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader #ellie williams x y/n #fun fact i made a side blog for my fics but im too lazy to transfer this draft over there so nevermind i guess!#the last of us part 2 #ellie tlou #ellie x reader

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madelynraemunson · 7 months ago

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NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

#maddy’s mailbox ✨#blurb #eddie munson blurb #ex husband!eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #ex husband!eddie x reader #ex husband!eddie munson x reader

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