#one-shots are my forte | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyhoon · 5 months ago

Text

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed.

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies.

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure? don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth.

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door.

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

#enhypen imagine #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scencario #jake sim #park sunghoon #park jongseong

2K notes · View notes

holdmytesseract · 3 months ago

Text

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

1K notes · View notes

differenteagletragedy · 11 days ago

Text

Simon Riley x Single Mom Reader, Part Six <3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

"We'll be fine, love."

"Are you sure? I can reschedule. Should I reschedule?"

"Not necessary."

"Simon ..."

"Sweetheart."

You sigh and nod, picking up the diaper bag by the door. Emma is on your hip -- six months old now, and her neck is finally working right. You needed to take her in for a check-up at the doctor's, but Charlie was having a particularly energetic morning, so Simon stepped in and offered to watch him for you.

It's his first time babysitting one of the kids on his own, and part of him is confident. He can lead men into war, he can watch a rambunctious four-year-old.

Another part of him though, a quieter, more anxious part that he tries to push down, is just a little worried. Things are going so well, and he wants to keep proving to you that what you have is good. That it's worth keeping.

"All right, Charlie," he says, firmly but not coldly, once you and Emma leave the house. "We've got to hold down the fort, you and me. Got it?"

"Aye aye, captain," Charlie says, giving a salute.

Simon chuckles -- the boy knows he's in the army at this point, but obviously not the ins and outs of it all.

"Not a captain yet, and you're not one of my men anyway. Simon'll do just fine."

It's a fun afternoon, more fun than he'd imagined it would be. He and Charlie make a blanket fort in the living room (his first time, but it turns out all right), then they make s'mores in the microwave (also his first time, and it's a little bit of disaster).

It's fun, but it's difficult in a strange, painful sort of way. Simon never got to be a kid, and he's never been around children. Emma is sweet, absolutely adorable, but she doesn't talk yet. Charlie, though, has a way of speaking that's so innocent and honest in a way he's never experienced. He's sweet too, and he's very certain that he'd die for either of them, but there's a learning curve with him, one he's so desperate to master.

At the heart of it all, Simon just wants to be good for you. For all of you. And he'll keep trying until he is.

When you come home, Emma fussy after her shots, Charlie is on a sugar high, zipping in and out of the blanket fort. You laugh, happy to see your son happy, and Simon takes Emma so you can talk to him.

"Did you have a good time?" you ask, a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him in place for a moment."'

"Yeah, we always have fun," Charlie answers, grinning.

You swipe a bit of melted marshmallow off the corner of his mouth, smiling back down at the boy.

"You're kind of a mess though, huh? Want to go ahead and take your bath?"

He pouts, looking up at you with big eyes, and tells you that he wants to play a little longer. When he glances at Simon, the message seems clear -- he wants to keep playing with him.

"Not going anywhere, Charlie," Simon says quietly. "Why don't you listen to your mum though and get cleaned up now?"

The child smiles at his reassurance, and nods. Simon nods back, Emma still whining in his arms, and before he can process it, Charlie is hugging his leg.

"Love you, Daddy," he says, and then he's off.

Simon freezes for a moment, then looks at you. You offer him a tight smile, but something's off, and he can't quite place it.

"Never asked him to call me that."

"No, I know," you say quickly, shaking your head. "Of course not. It's just ... I don't know, he might be kind of confused? You've been around so much more than his actual father, he's probably ..."

You trail off, biting your lip, and he steps closer to you, the baby resting against his chest.

"What's got you so upset?" he asks softly. He wants to make it better, but he needs to know how.

"I just don't want you to think that I'm pushing it on him, I guess?" you answer, glancing up at him before looking back down. "I don't want to force that role on you at all. I know it's a lot."

He considers his words carefully, knowing how important they are, and finally he admits, "It is a lot."

Your head jerks up to look at him, and there's almost a fearful look in your eyes. With his free hand, he strokes your cheek lightly, keeping your eyes on him.

"But I wouldn't trade it for anything. You hear me? Being here with you, with them, it's ... more than I could have ever asked for. Much more than I deserve."

You let out a small, nervous breath. You're so expressive, and he's always so thankful for it, because in your eyes, he can see how much this matters to you. How you want to do all of this right, even if you're not exactly sure how to go about it.

Finally, you speak again, telling him, "I don't want you to feel like you need to be that though, you know? Be their dad. It's been, what, almost five months? Simon, that's ..."

"I'll be whatever you need, love. Always. I can promise you that."

And he means it, easily. He doesn't need the kids to call him dad, or a big conversation about his exact role in the family. What he needs, from now on, is to be able to take care of you, all three of you. Whatever that looks like, however it plays out, he's all in now.

He needs you to be all in too.

"Don't worry so much about me, all right?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not running away. I'm not leaving."

You laugh, a little broken, and say, "That's kind of a first for me."

His hand, still on your cheek, moves to the back of your neck, gently pulling you against him. He keeps Emma, who's settling now, tucked against one side of his chest and holds you against the other.

"I mean it. As long as you'll have me, I'm yours."

You look up at him, your arms going around his waist, smiling a little more genuinely now that he's got you like this.

"And what if I want to have you for a very long time?"

"Then that's exactly what you'll get."

PART SEVEN - PART EIGHT

#call of duty #call of duty ghost #simon riley #call of duty simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod ghost #cod simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #daddy simon

834 notes · View notes

sugusatosluut · 28 days ago

Text

Overworked and Overstimulated

Synopsis: You take on every job Cecil hands you as his overachieving daughter, but what could be more relaxing after work than getting high with your friends?

Warnings: Edibles, smut, threesome! MDNI💓

You returned back to the guardian’s hq, exhaustedly ripping your mask off of your head. Your father called you on four missions back to back because he had already sent the new guardians and invincible to space. You wanted to go sooooo bad, but he found it better for you to sit this one out. Coincidentally upon returning back, you had found out that they all made it back a few days ago and Cecil wanted you to handle everything until most of them recovered. Easier said than done. Usually it was about six life threatening issues a day, but to tackle four of the worst ones in one day was just a little too much.

You showered, then went up to your room. Dimming the lights, you changed and turned on your music as you took out a pot brownie. You deserved this, you worked too damn hard not to. Stupid GDA invested father using you as a machine.. but he was your dad and sometimes it was your fault for biting off more than you could chew. Typical of you to not say something yet act out when you’re overstimulated. Just typical.

As you got comfortable in your little room, Mark and Rex knocked at your door. What a surprise, they never approach you unless they need help, so maybe now’s not a good time to get high.

“Yo, y/n! Good job holding down the fort until we came back. I see the world’s got a new favorite nepo baby.” Rex chuckled as he grabbed a chair.

“C’mon Rex you know she doesn’t like that.” Mark nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry.. sometimes the social awareness just doesn’t que up fast enough in my brain. Anyways, whatcha doin? Taking the night off?” Rex asked as he played with the items on your desk.

“Yeah, my dad gave me four of the worst missions today. Just figured I’d mellow out in my room for the rest of the day.” You sighed.

“With a pot brownie?” Mark asked sitting in the edge of your bed and holding the ziploc bag containing your brownies.

“Uh-y-yeah. Well I was gonna wait til you guys left in case you didn’t need me for anything but this seemed important so I couldn’t eat one right this second.” You said nervously.

“Fuck that, this is your free time.. Mark and I have been off for a while. Let’s say we make this a group trip huh? I’ll pay you back for it later.” Rex said taking the brownies from Mark.

“I’m down, you don’t have to pay me back though Sloan. I’m content with this. Just quality time with my friends.” You said relaxing back in your bed.

You, Mark and Rex all ate a brownie, waiting for the effects to kick in.

About an hour later you were all feeling the effects. You had put some dumb chick flick on and both men were entertained. It was quiet. Mark was shirtless, with an arm wrapped around you and Rex was also shirtless laying on your chest. Before the high had kicked in you guys gave mark money to get snacks and he delivered. As you guys watched the movie, all that could be heard was the crunching of chips. Both of their bodies were keeping you extremely warm. The movie ended and all three of you were wondering what to do next.

“Basketball?” Rex offered.

“Let’s go. Me and you Rex.” Mark smirked at him.

The three of you went down into the HQ training center. Both boys were shooting hoops.

“This is boring, can we find a way to make it interesting?” Mark asked.

“Ask and you shall recieve. First one to score five shots wins a kiss from the pretty lady over there— and don’t tell me you’re not dying for a taste of that. The best things in life are things that you aren’t allowed to have.” Rex winked.

“I can reason with that as long as it’s okay with y/n.” Mark asked.

“We’ll— I don’t wanna sound desperate but I mean it’s perfectly fine with me.” You blushed. You were in fact the most desperate for this. The past flirtations between you and Mark and then you and Rex throughout your time at the GDA always got to you. Your dad always steered them both away.. well not just them, everyone—away. Mark and Rex didn’t really care, they were friends to the end. They stood up to Cecil which finally allowed you to go on missions, but Cecil drew the line at space. The old man knew better than to get between you and your friends. Yes, you loved your dad but there’s always a battle to be fought with him.

“You’re on.” Mark smirked.

Both boys played away and suddenly the score went from one to four. It was the final point for each of them.

“This one’s for you!” They both shouted together. The anticipation guided you to insanity. If Rex scored and mark felt jealous? It would ruin you. If Mark scored and Rex feel jealous? God.. it’s too much to handle. It’s okay to change your mind and everything, the boys would understand. You don’t want one without the other.

“Well looks like we’re both getting kissed. Both our baskets were made.” Mark smiled smugly.

How did you miss it? Oh well. You weren’t kissing them in the middle of the guardians hq, that would be an awkward moment you couldn’t come back from. The boys held their excitement until you all made it back to your room. Now it was really awkward for you.

“I know I’ve only gotten high with you guys once before but holy shit you look like you’re in a real predicament right now y/n.” Mark laughed.

Rex joined in on laughing, both of them were laughing a bit too hard, it was a little too contagious.

“You’re right, she’s as red as a fucking ripe ass tomato!” Rex was wheezing at this point. The laughter coming from your room was intense and anybody coming by your room could tell you were having a fun time.

You started laughing along with them and soon the laughing turned to joyous tears from your stomachs hurting so bad. After all the laughing, you rested your head on Mark’s shoulder again as you all made it back to laying on your giant bed that took up most of the room in your little box. Mark scooted you, letting you in between his legs as your back touched his chest. Mark played with your hair and Rex was up to something mischevious. Rex snuck himself under the covers, pulling down your lace panties and your pajama pants. You would have been way more alarmed in any other circumstance but for this one? You felt so at peace with both of them doing what they wanted to you. It was the best stress relief you had in a while.

Mark’s hands reached for your shirt, lifting it up off your body and kissing the back of your neck. As Rex started to eat you out your body started to tingle with numbness. The high was really intensifying all your senses. Rex’s tongue lapped and licked your little bud under the covers. To ease you, Mark grabbed onto your breasts, kneading them and kissing your neck. Rex’s grip on your hips stayed firm.

“I thought you both wanted a kiss.” You whined.

“We did, the high just feels too nice to waste on a little kiss. You getting overstimulated? I can tell by the way you’re squirming. Quit acting out.” Mark said firmly as his hands shifted positions, as one arm was now around your neck.

You whined and groaned until you started getting close, both boys were naked at this point, the temperature in the room getting hotter, the feelings more intense.. both boys were slipping in and out of you roughly as you were still whining, eventually the three of you would finish at the same time. You all hit the showers and you went back to your room in silence. Your body was now tired.

“Hey- uh.. thanks for that. If you ever wanna use me I left my number on your board.” Rex winked at you before deciding to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” You asked.

“Yeah.. unfortunately you’re not the only girl on my roster sweet cheeks.” He whistled.

“Alright, see you around.” You waved.

Well at least Rex admitted to wanting a late night booty call.

Mark walked into your room timidly.

“You leaving too?” You pouted.

“Oh stop pouting. I got you flowers. I wanna stay and cuddle. I was in space for five days I thought you’d miss me a little more.” He said.

“Now look who’s pouting.” You smirked.

Mark came into your room placing the flowers on your nightstand and laying down on top of you, his body weight giving you the utmost relief.

“I don’t want to share you again. That was a one time deal.” He complained.

“I understand, thank you for letting me experience that.” You smiled at him.

The room seemed to go quiet, you eyes started to shut and mark had one last thing on his mind.

“When are you gonna tell your dad about us?”

“Mark— go to sleep.”

#mark grayson #invincible #invincible smut #mark grayson smut #rex splode #rex sloan #rex x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #rex splode smut

1K notes · View notes

maeintree · 2 months ago

Text

pillow kingdom | s. reid

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid may have three PhDs and an IQ of 187, but when it comes to battling his two tiny, chaos-loving children in an all-out Pillow Kingdom war, he never stood a chance. Pairing: father!Spencer Reid x fem!mother!Reader Word Count: 600 (oh.) Author's Note: genuinely wasn't thinking when i wrote this, saw my nephew and immediately got baby fever and just remembered spence being so good with kids and this is extremely mgg coded, so enjoy this fluffy 'lil one shot <3

You weren’t sure what was funnier—the fact that your two children had built an entire fortress out of couch cushions, blankets, and stuffed animals, or the fact that your genius husband, Dr. Spencer Reid, was dramatically attempting to “storm the castle” like a medieval jester on too much caffeine.

“You think you can defeat me? The all-powerful Dr. Spencer the Fearsome?!” he bellowed, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

From the depths of the pillow fort, two pairs of eyes peeked out. Your daughter, Lily, narrowed hers suspiciously. “You don’t look fearsome.”

“Yeah,” your son, Max, added. “You look like you need a nap.”

You snorted into your coffee from your spot on the couch. They weren’t wrong.

Spencer gasped, clutching his chest like they’d just insulted his entire PhD collection. “A nap? A nap? Do you know who I am? I have an eidetic memory—I once stayed up for eighty-four hours straight during a case! I can outlast any of you!”

Lily pointed a tiny finger at him. “Then why did Mommy say you got cranky and cried over a vending machine that wouldn’t take your dollar?”

You nearly choked.

Spencer’s mouth fell open. “I—that’s slander! Your mother is a liar.” He turned to you for backup, but you just smiled innocently and sipped your coffee.

Max, meanwhile, picked up a stuffed T-Rex and threw it at Spencer’s head.

“ATTACK!”

The war was on.

Spencer ducked and rolled—dramatically, of course, like some kind of action hero who had absolutely no reason to be this extra—before lobbing a pillow right back at them. Lily shrieked and launched a plush unicorn in retaliation.

“You’ll never take our kingdom!” she declared.

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Spencer bellowed, grabbing a blanket and spinning like a deranged superhero. “I have acquired the Cloak of Infinite Wisdom!”

Max squinted. “That’s just the throw blanket from the couch.”

Spencer gasped again, pointing at him. “You have your mother’s skepticism, and frankly, it’s terrifying.”

You grinned. “Taught them well.”

Just as Spencer lunged forward, Lily leaped from the fortress and wrapped herself around his leg. “I got him! I got him!”

Max charged next, full toddler-speed, ramming into Spencer’s side like an overenthusiastic linebacker. Your husband crumpled like a science nerd hit by reality.

“Oh nooooo,” Spencer groaned, flopping onto the floor. “My one weakness! Small, adorable children!”

“Victory!” Lily cheered, standing triumphantly on his stomach like she had just slain a dragon.

Max clambered on top of him next, sitting on his chest. “Now you’re our prisoner!”

Spencer groaned dramatically. “Curse you, tiny overlords.”

From your cozy spot on the couch, you smirked over your coffee. “See, this is why I married you. Not for your three PhDs, not for your genius IQ—but because you lose every single battle against two tiny humans.”

Spencer tilted his head up from the floor, where he lay pinned beneath his children. His curls were a mess, his glasses were slightly askew, and he looked utterly betrayed. “I don’t lose. I let them win.”

Lily gasped. “Traitor!”

Max grabbed another pillow and smacked Spencer square in the face.

And that was the day Dr. Spencer Reid was officially overthrown as ruler of the household.

this was soo rushed, and i'm sooo ughh. hope you enjoyed!! aha

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #reid #cm #criminal minds #xreader #fluff #kids

623 notes · View notes

redwinelew · 3 months ago

Text

TOO BUSY BEING YOURS

type written fic (one shot)

pairing lewis hamilton x teammate + driver!reader

summary inspired by hozier's cover of do i wanna know

word count 4.4k

warnings 18+ content. angry/hate sex. choking. oral (f receiving), praise kink. kinda angsty a bit. i tried to make this neutral so it could be mercedes!lewis or ferrari!lewis. unedited bcs i couldn't be bothered. many grammatical errors. english is not my first language.

author's note i hate how fucking long this is bcs it was supposed to be a short blurb but i got too carried away as i always do. this fic drained me so idk if it's any good but i hope u guys enjoy

masterlist | request info | requests are OPEN!

this is just sex, you said to yourself the first time lewis was fucking you after your overtake in miami causing him to lose his chance at getting a podium.

"you kept pissing me off since the day we met, you know," he said as he wrapped his large inked hand around your throat, your head turned to one side and your cheek pressed hard floor of his driver's room.

a tear escaped your eyes as they rolled back, his cock ramming into you. he gave you so little time to adjust to his size and it burned. he was bigger than anyone you have ever taken, combined with the way he was choking you, the brutal pace of his cock ramming inside you, it was pain mixed with pleasure. you never felt like this is with anyone else, and it made the experience better all together.

"so— you couldn't— fuck. you couldn't stop— thinking about me since then? is that what— you're saying?" you sassed him back.

he almost didn't make you cum that day.

for some reason, somehow you have always expected things to end like this between the two of you. not that you think about him bending your knees to your chest and fucking you hard until you see stars and all you could think about was how deep he is inside you on daily basis but it has become some fort of tradition for you two to get on each other's nerves every week, and he looks like the type who would let out his frustration with sex. it was like it was bound to happen.

the second time it happened, you tell yourself that he was just trying to make you feel better, after you crashed against alex albon in japan.

"let me take care of you." he assured, sinking to his knees in your hotel room's floor. his hands were spreading your legs wide for him to bury his face in between them.

you propped yourself on your elbows, wanting to watch him and you swore you never thought he could be this gentle with you after what happened in his driver's room. his thick lips smeared long, wet kisses all over your thighs, eyes stay locked with yours, taking in your reaction. your chest heaved and you released a shaky breath, throwing your head back the moment his tongue dived into your sensitive parts.

he was going slow, careful of your injuries but not too slow that he was depriving you of that high. his tongue moved in the most articulate ways, fingers pumping in and out like he just knew what would makes you click and shatter. as if he was already a pro at at the art of pleasuring you, despite this being his first time putting his tongue on you.

"i want to hear you," he lifted his head for a split second to say, half a whisper after he noticed how you were, how you were biting your bottom lip, trying to suppress the sinful sounds from escaping your lips.

"someone— might hear—"

"i wanna hear you." he repeated, firm but gently. "please, sweetie. i wanna hear you fall apart for me."

when your eyes met his, somehow it was clear that this was not the same man who had fucked you hard on the floor of his driver's room a few weeks ago. his eyes were different. you hoped your own were not deceiving you because you could swore it was filled with a different kind of lust compared to the first time.

noticing your hesitation, he took your hand and brought it to his head, gesturing you to guide him by grabbing his braids.

"come on. show me what you like. i want to know."

"i want to know."

you wanted to argue that he didn't have any reason to. why should he know how to eat you out until your body shook from pleasure and your eyes see stars? why should he know how to flick his tongue in ways that would make his name the only word you could remember? having lewis hamilton, the seven time formula 1 world champion on his knees with his head in between your legs is not something that would ever happen again, no.

but you found yourself spreading your legs a little bit further, trying to make your body relaxed and comfortable on the hotel bed. you gathered his braids since his hair tie has gone somehow, and he let you. he dived back to your clit, and groaned, loving the way you guided him in order to help you reach your peak.

he made you cum twice with his tongue and fingers. then with his cock, and again it was different from the first time. he let you stare into his big brown eyes, his braids hung like curtains on either side of his face as his bare frame towered over your naked body, your legs locked around his waist.

he was thrusting into you slow and deep, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him, to draw those little gasps of yours he was starting to get obsessed with. he wanted to see your eyes flutter as he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one that would make you utter his name like a prayer.

you tried to focus more on the pleasure he was bringing and less on the fact that this felt like he was making love to you. because it couldn't. that word should be forbidden from both your lips and his. this was not love. he was only fucking you this slow and this gentle because you got into a crash. he was afraid he could cause more serious injuries to you even though there wasn't even any to begin with.

the third time, it was after you and him achieved podium together but that race was a bit different than the other. a historic 1-2 at your team's home race, the first since you joined the team. a win with lewis here was something you were determined to happen since the beginning of the season and it finally came true.

your lips never lacked a smile since you crossed the checkered flag with lewis behind you. the long, tight hug that you two shared, especially the way he was burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hand rubbing your back and the way tears were streaming down your cheeks were definitely one of the most talked-about topics among fans that week. but you couldn't care any less. a lot has happened for you personally. you were unable to give your 100% when the season starts, and a bunch of DNFs and crashes did not help your case either. podium started to feel like a distant dream. you thought about the fact that your contract was ending this year and had not been renewed yet. you needed this win and thankfully it proved something to the team. you wanted them to forget about finding a new driver to replace you next year because the old you were still here. struggling with a new car design is something common among formula 1 drivers. lewis knew it all too well.

that is why he cannot stop praising you that night.

"you did great, sweetie. you were amazing." he said with each slow thrust of his cock, earning soft sighs from your lips. his strong arms were cradling your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"you— you were great too." you said, trying to redirect it to him, hating the way your cheeks grew warm at his praise. you've spent so much time arguing and getting on each other's nerves that being praised by him felt strange though not unwelcome. in fact, you hated how much you loved it. hated how it was the only thing that you crave to hear from his pretty mouth from now on. no more bickerings. no more quick retorts. just his sweet tongue making you feel good about yourself, verbally and physically.

"no, no. this is about you. you did great. you deserved every bit of this. don't you?" you delt him slowing down. you bit your bottom lip, too overwhelmed by his intense gaze to say anything.

"i asked you a question, sweetie." he demanded an answer, keeping his tone soft. his voice was barely a whisper.

"i— mhmm.... please.... move." was all you could say instead as you turned your head, trying to hide from his gaze. you never felt so small. this feelings burned.

"answer my question, first. you did great, didn't you? sweet girl?"

you whimper pathetically at the new nickname, letting him grab your chin to meet his eyes once again.

"i didn't..... early on. i wasn't doing good." you say quietly. you don't know why that was in your mind at the time. you should be enjoying the day, that moment. your win, the way he was filling you up to the brim. nothing else matters. what more could you asked for?

except maybe more assurance from him. that this win was not because of luck. was purely your hard work. was because you fucking deserved it.

"that's normal, sweetie. they made a lot of upgrades and improvements this year, didn't they? it's normal to take time to readjust to some changes. don't beat yourself up for it. you're a great driver. everybody knows that. i knew it."

why the fuck do you feel like a rookie right now? you didn't need to hear all that. you've been in this sport for years. you've moved teams, dealt with the fact that you had driven and struggled with far shittier cars. but why did lewis' words make you feel slightly better, deep down? why did he make me feel relaxed enough to unclench your jaw and to drop your tensed shoulders? how did he know exactly what you needed to hear? how did he manage to read you so well?

"y-yeah." you nod breathlessly, agreeing, especially when he finally moved his hips again, but it wasn't enough to make you reach that peak again and he knew it.

"repeat after me: i deserve this."

"lewis—"

"say it or you're not cumming tonight."

you swallowed, lips trembling. as threatening as it soundes, you knew lewis didn't mean that. but still, he's a man of his words. you didn't want to risk the perfect night you and him are having.

and maybe, just maybe, you start listening to his words. you start pushing away all those negative thoughts that were trying to drown your victory today.

"i...." you take a deep breath. "i deserve this."

"louder." he demanded again as he shifted between your hips, gripping your thighs tighter, his eyes never wavered from yours.

"i deserve this." you did as he commanded, with a much firmer tone, like you really mean it.

because you did. you fucking deserve this win. this team. this life. him.

"you did great today." lewis started fucking you again deeply, not hurried with his pace.

"i did great today." you gasped.

"that's my good girl."

you're his good girl.

he kissed you that night, for the first time ever, which surprised you when you thought about it again. the first time you two fucked, you never get to so much as a glance at his lips because of the position he got you in. second time, the thought did cross your mind, making you wonder how would his lips which was sucking on your clit at the time felt when they're pressed against yours instead. how he would devour you like you're all he needs to survive. how his tongue would taste in your mouth.

and it was sweet. long and passionate. better than your wildest dreams. it felt so natural, the way his lips moved against yours in a perfect synchronization. as if they were made to have this dance together.

you whimpered into his mouth when you came, and he drank it all up, swallowing your cry, big hands cupping your cheeks. it was heaven.

until you fell back to earth, to reality, when you realized that like every other thing in this world, what you have with lewis right now, whatever the hell he wants to call it, it will not last forever.

how long are you two going to keep this up? pretending like you hated each other's guts during the day, only to be tangled up under the covers at night? how long until everybody in the garage, fans on the internet notice your stolen glances? how you two always tries to stand a few feet apart, not because the mere sight of each other disgusted you both, but because you are afraid that you were not able to keep this facade up any longer. that you might say fuck it and jump to each other's arm to celebrate another podium. or rushing to ask your race engineer if the other was okay after a crash.

you remembered an interview lewis did. with which magazine, it doesn't matter but what he talked about was. that he wants to have a family, to have kids. it sticks in your mind, every word in the article you already have them memorized. only one question is left.

is that woman you, or is this just another fling to him?

you need to know, need to put an exact label to this thing you get going on with lewis right now or else it might drive you crazy. you cannot keep letting him in, cannot let him whisper another one of those promises in your ear, each time you let him have his way raw with you, if they all meant nothing to him. he might not seem like the type, but you cannot let yourself lost in the uncertainty. better to end this now before it's too late.

you glanced at his sleeping figure on your right on your hotel bed. another night spent together, without knowing where this stands for him. was it all just for fun, his way to release his frustration? it'd be fair, since you never exactly made it easy for him to have you as his teammate. or did it actually mean something to him, deep inside, only he is too afraid to say it?

you shift to your side, staring at his beautiful face. you snuggle up closer, tangling up your legs with his under the covers, needing to go feel his heat, as if this is the last time you will ever get to be this close to him.

it could be.

your hand goes to push his braids behind his ear, cupping his cheek before running your rhumb across his cheekbone and he stirs a bit, a sigh left his thick lips and you feel his hand on your hip tenses a little before he relaxes again. he's absolutely breathtaking, when the pressure of winning his eighth championship isn't occupying his mind. the way his long lashes flutter in his sleep. two piercings decorating his nose. giant lion tattoo on his chest exposed, besides the most obvious parts down there, all for you to see.

something inside you cannot help but wonder.... do other girls get to see him like this too? how many of them? do they get to touch him like this as well? does he enjoy it? does he whisper to their ears the same thing as he did to you?

your heart clenches but then you quickly tell yourself. of course he does. of course they do. it would be a fool of you to think otherwise. who do you think you are, besides a teammate who has been giving him a hard time ever since you two were paired together? a woman he's using to release all of his frustration on? you are nothing but those. do not think that the great formula 1 champion lewis hamilton would make an exception for you. do not pretend like this "relationship" would have a future.

but then, another part of your brain reminds you, trying to ease your nerves. he wouldn't stay every night, probably wouldn't even let you have your orgasms, wouldn't even think about getting on his knees for the woman he hates with every fiber of his being, if this was meaningless for him.

you wanted to move, when he suddenly stirs again. a groan left his lips.

"what time is it?" he asks in that deep, sleepy tone of his, eyes still shut. his accent is always more apparent in the morning.

"almost seven." you say flatly, removing your hand from his face, laying on your back again, your face turns away.

lewis senses the shift in your behavior somehow. his thick eyebrows meet in a knot, before his eyes open. he lays on his back as well, stretching his body a bit, feeling every single muscle in his body sore, before sitting on the bed. you take a peak at him, the way his muscular body bathe in the sunlight seeping through the room through the gaps between the curtains. he takes his hair tie from his wrist, gathering his braids before tying them back together again lowly. his tattooed back visible to you, with lightning-shaped patterns caused by your sharp nails from last night. you bite your lip at the sight, at your poor, desperate attempt to mark him as yours.

it's useless.

he will never be.

a deep exhale escapes from his lips before he glances at you momentarily, eyes raking over the visible outline of your naked figure under the white covers, taking in your sudden cold demeanor.

"did i hurt you?" lewis asks, voice laced with concern.

yes, in a way, you wanted to say. but instead you keep quiet. wouldn't it be nice if you could just freeze, trying not to move, and you'd shrink, disappear from here forever? not having to face him anymore, nor that one painful fact that you have tried to forget. if only life is easy that way.

he calls your name, gently, and it still feels foreign to you, the way your name leaves softly from his lips. you were used to him barking, hissing it. like your name is poisonous, disgusting to him in the garage. never would you have thought he would whispers it so calmly, moaning it even.

he calls again, and you cannot ignore him this time. you turn your head, meeting his eyes tiredly.

"i'm fine—"

"no, you're not." he cuts you off, and it almost angers you. how would he know how you really feel? he doesn't know anything about you besides how to make you come. he doesn't know your favorite food, your favorite colour. you want him to stop pretending like he's got you all figured out.

"i...." you sigh. "i don't wanna talk about this right now, please."

lewis raises an eyebrow. "you know that answer will only make me even more curious now, right? just tell me."

when you stay silent, still refusing to meet his eyes, lewis tries to guess himself.

"is it about last night? did i hurt you? please, tell me. i can't...." his sentence trails away when you shake your head slowly at his guess.

you bite your lip again, harder, before sitting up as well, pulling the white covers to conceal your bare chest. your eyes stare into a corner blankly, nails scratching the back of your neck as your mind tries to put together the words you have been dying to say to him ever since what happened in his driver's room.

"it's not just last night.... it's the previous nights. it's every other night we spent. together. i don't...." you gulp thickly, suddenly at loss for words. you have been thinking about this moment for so long, you hate yourself for not being able to be straight now.

"sweetie...."

"what are we, lewis?"

pause.

"what?" he asks back, his face all scrunched up, eyebrows tie up like he didn't even process your question.

you take a deep, shaky breath, before finally, finally looking at him in the eyes.

"i mean, what are we? what is this?"

"what is wha—" he chuckles with a nervous look on his face, probably wondering what the hell has gotten into you this early in the morning that made you asked these questions.

you try your best not to roll your eyes at his clueless face. you wish he could just skip these acts, pretending like he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about. you want to move to the part where he confirms what you have known all this time.

"please, just be honest with me. i don't want to waste my time anymore and i'm sure you—"

"no, hey— wait a second. what is this— what the hell are you—"

"i asked you first!" you say impatiently, raising your voice a little, which startles lewis but you wish you could say that you care. every second spent with him feels like you should have been using it to do something else, with somebody else and you might have a future with.

"what are we, lewis?" you repeat, firmly this time and louder so the question seeps through his mind.

pause.

"all these nights we've spent together.... did they mean anything to you? like at all? i need you to be honest with me because if this is all just for fun to you then you can find someone else—"

"i don't want someone else." he cuts you off. the suddenness of it combined with the firmness of his voice catches you off guard. but you are not about to let it distract you.

"well that's too damn bad because i'm not here to be one of your girls—"

"me neither." a beat. "i just want you to be the only girl."

pause.

"what the hell does that mean?"

"it means...." a sigh from him. "that i am a coward who should have told you how i really felt from the beginning."

his voice is getting shakier as he continues. "you drive me crazy since you first joined this team but then i realized that i love how it feels, as long as it was you who makes me feel this way."

you gulp at his smooth words, trying to keep yourself together. this is lewis hamilton, 7 times formula 1 world champion. his name itself is bigger than the sport. he knows how to make people fall to their knees in his presence. you do not want to be one of them, cannot allow yourself to be.

lewis takes a deep breath, and you find yourself holding yours.

"the only kind of girl i want you to be is mine."

pause.

"you...." you shudder. "you can't just say that. like it means nothing."

part of you are relieved somehow that he feels that way. that this was not meaningless to him. but you did not expect another type of feeling to enter the conversation. or maybe you did, only you refuse to think about it. because the mere thought of lewis falling in love with you as this goes on feels impossible to happen.

"i wouldn't if that's the case." he says, quick and confidently. "I'm in love with you, sweetie."

"i...." he stammers suddenly. "it's been a while since i was in love, i almost forgot how it feels. it was after our team's home race that i realized it. that night. it felt good to be like that with you. i remembered how i wanted to spend every night like that with you. not just the sex but the lengthy conversations we had after. and the way you felt in my arms when you fell asleep, i.... i just want to hold you like that every night. i can't get enough. you've made me a mad man, love."

oh, love.

you chew on your bottom lip, not knowing what to say, how to react. you didn't expect a confession, never would have dreamt of those four letter words to leave his lips while talking to you. mine. love.

or maybe you did. you think about moments that you two spent alone together, besides having him inside you that you shared and you find yourself loving every single second. sharing stories, your passions. you realized how much you enjoy hearing his rambles and wishing that you could hear more, that he would share more. something deeper, more personal.

"we can't." you say without thinking.

lewis clenches his jaw, huffing in frustration.

"why not? because you think the team wouldn't approve? or the fans?" he quickly guesses, like he already knew the excuses you'd give.

"i'd only accept rejection from you if you yourself do not want this. not because of the team or our publicists or— or the fans. because who cares what those people have to say? this is our lives, not theirs. do not let other people dictate how you feel." he says firmly.

"i'm not." you retort just as fast. "because i do feel the same."

you see how he releases a heavy breath after hearing your own confession, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulder. a relief.

"i just need to know if you are serious about going public. it's a big step. how long have we been rivals publicly? and then suddenly we're dating? how would that look?"

he smiles tinily.

"i'm sure it wouldn't be a surprise to them. maybe deep down they know you've always wanted me."

"oh, me?" you roll your eyes at him while pointing at yourself. "alright, sir lewis 'you've made me a mad man' hamilton. sure. i wanted you first. definitely not the other way around."

he chuckles this time, his white teeth on full display before he closes the distance between you two.

"keep talking and i'll show you how mad you truly have made me." he says in a low, sultry voice.

and you did. and he kept his promise. you two ignored the fact that you have a qualification today, or how purposely loud you are being. you know you'd be too embarrassed to actually face the other drivers who stay in this same hotel after today but when lewis was fucking you deep and slow but hard as a way to prove his devotion to you, you cannot exactly say that you care about anything else in that moment.

580 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 3 months ago

Note

Can I request a one shot with the one and only Elijah? He and reader know each other for years but since she is human he never made a move. She overhears Klaus nagging Elijah about being smitten with her and she confronts him and he is obviously in denial, reader tells him to man up for once and he shows her how much men he is? With Consent of course. Would love reading something like this, you are my go to fix for my Elijah obsession

Snow Day

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A rare snowstorm blankets New Orleans, and the Mikaelsons revel in the icy chaos. But as Klaus pushes Elijah to confront his feelings for you, the heat between you two threatens to outshine the storm.

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon!! This was partly inspired by Louisiana getting snow for the first time in over 20 years!!! (yikes the planet is on fire)~ ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smutttt, rough sex (He just scoops you up and has his way with you), oral sex (f!receiving), praise kink, shamelessly using this fic to explore Elijah talking you through it (hot), tiny bit of angst, child Hope being adorable, snowball fights, Klaus being Klaus, magical snow forts and a hint of hot chocolate...

The world outside was unrecognizable. Snow blanketed the streets of New Orleans in a thick, pristine layer, muffling the usual lively sounds of the city. It was almost surreal, like waking up in a dream.

You rubbed your hands together for warmth as you stood at the window of the Mikaelson compound, marveling at the sight. The night before, a snowstorm had hit with an intensity no one had expected. It hadn't snowed in Louisiana since 2004. Now, with nearly ten inches of snow on the ground, you were effectively snowed in.

Not that you minded. The compound was warm and cozy, a fire crackling in pretty much every single room. Still, being cooped up had a way of making you restless, your thoughts wandering far too easily to things you shouldn’t dwell on—like your relationship with Elijah.

You had been friends with him for years, but something about the way he carried himself, the quiet strength he exuded, had always drawn you in, leaving you wanting more.

Lately, though, there had been a shift. His gaze lingered a little longer, his touches felt a little more intentional. You weren’t blind to it, but Elijah was a master of control. Whatever feelings he might have, he kept them locked away, hidden beneath his stoic demeanor.

It made you sad, the way he denied himself any sort of affection. He always pushed away those he loved the most, it was a bad habit he had yet to break.

With a sigh, you turned from the window and made your way upstairs. You had barely reached the top of the stairs when the sound of raised voices reached your ears.

You headed to the balcony, looking down into the courtyard where Hayley and Rebekah were wrangling Hope into a snow suit. A task that the two immortal creatures seemed to be struggling with, much to the little girl’s amusement.

"Can we go now?" Hope demanded, wiggling out of Rebekah's hold. "I want to make a snowman!"

"Soon," Hayley promised, pulling a large warm hat over her daughter's ears. "We have to finish bundling you up first."

"Let me," Elijah said, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor, crouching down in front of Hope.

The little girl huffed, but she stilled as Elijah gently adjusted her coat and scarf. "You must not rush, little one. Proper preparation will ensure you can enjoy the snow without discomfort," he said, his hands moving with care as he buttoned her coat and smoothed the scarf into place.

"Uncle ‘lijah, I can do it!" Hope protested, though there was no real frustration in her tone.

"I have no doubt," Elijah replied with a small smile, "but would it not be faster if I helped? The snow is waiting, after all."

Hope considered his words for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Okay, but only because I want to go faster."

"Of course," Elijah said, his voice soft with amusement. He worked quickly but carefully, ensuring everything was just right. Finally, he held up her mittens. "Now for the finishing touch."

"My hands are going to sweat," Hope muttered, wrinkling her nose as she reluctantly let him slip the mittens over her small hands.

"They’ll thank you once you’re outside," Elijah said, rising to his full height and brushing a stray curl from her face. "There. You’re ready."

Hope beamed up at him. "Thank you, Uncle ‘lijah!" she said, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

"You're welcome, little one," Elijah replied, returning the embrace, the tenderness on his face making your heart ache.

Kol burst into the courtyard then, an excited grin on his face. He was wrapped up in a giant scarf, his coat buttoned all the way up, and his cheeks were rosy.

"Come on, Hope, hurry!" He urged. "I just finished building the best snow fort. It's big enough for the both of us. I know you like to hide in snow forts and scare people, right?"

Hope's eyes lit up, and she released Elijah, running toward Kol and latching onto his hand. "I love snow forts! Let's go, Uncle Kol!"

"That's my girl!" Kol said, leading her toward the doors. "We're going to have a ball, aren't we, Hope?"

"Yes!" Hope said, bouncing along beside him.

The rest of the family trailed behind, Hayley and Rebekah already discussing plans for getting some hot chocolate later.

"Well, look at you, being the best uncle," Klaus said, clapping Elijah on the back with a smile on his face. Although there was a tiny hint of jealousy in his tone.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics, heading down the stairs to join them.

"She makes it easy," Elijah said, a fond smile playing at his lips as he watched his family depart.

His gaze drifted to you, his smile growing a little as his eyes met yours. You felt your cheeks flush and averted your eyes, trying not to be so obvious.

"Are you joining us?" He asked, his voice smooth and rich like the expensive whiskey he often favored.

Klaus was pulling on his large coat and scarf, his expression smug as he watched the two of you. A familiar mischievous glint entered his eye, and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say.

Instead, he didn't say a word, his expression shifting to something close to a smirk as he looked at his older brother. His silence was worse, and the air felt thick with anticipation.

"I don't know, I'm not a big fan of the cold," you said, glancing toward the door where the others had left.

"Oh, c'mon, just for a little while," Klaus cajoled, wrapping a scarf around his neck. "Elijah will miss you if you aren't there."

The heat rose in your cheeks and you cleared your throat, unable to come up with a response.

Elijah shot him a look, grabbing his own outerwear, a long, black, impeccably tailored wool coat and matching scarf. He looked like he belonged on a fashion runway, not traipsing through the snow.

"If the lady does not wish to join, she doesn't have to," he said, his voice level.

"It would be a shame to miss this rare beauty, wouldn't it?" Klaus asked, gesturing to the world outside.

"It's a blizzard," you deadpanned.

"In Louisiana." Klaus grinned. "It's the sort of thing you'll look back on and remember for centuries. And, besides, Hope would love to see you. Don't you want to make a snow angel with her?"

"Fine. But if I get hypothermia, I'm coming for you." You glared at him.

Klaus grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and sauntered out the door.

You pulled on your jacket and scarf, not quite as fashionable as Elijah's, and popped a beanie over your hair. You glanced at him, taking in his refined, handsome appearance.

"Thanks for waiting for me," you said softly, slipping your feet into your boots and tugging on your gloves.

"I don't mind," Elijah said. He gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

You nodded and led the way out of the compound. As soon as the cold air hit you, you shivered, a gust of wind biting through your layers.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, his brows furrowing.

"I'm fine," you insisted, even as another shiver coursed through your body. "Let's just get this over with."

"As you wish." He smiled.

You walked beside him, following the path the others had taken. It was quiet, the world blanketed in white. Tiny snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, dancing lazily around you. The street was empty, the storm keeping most people indoors.

You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and joyful conversation, and the image of Hope's excited smile came to mind. She was a delight, a true ray of sunshine in an often bleak world.

You glanced up at Elijah, admiring his profile. There was a softness in his features that was so rare. He looked peaceful. Little snowflakes sticking to his eyelashes, his cheeks pink from the cold.

You turned your gaze forward, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. You had always found him attractive, but lately, it was becoming impossible to ignore.

Kol had indeed built an impressive fort, so impressive in fact, that there must have been a bit of magic involved. The snow sparkled unnaturally, as if dusted with tiny crystals, and the walls were impossibly smooth, their edges glowing faintly in the sunlight.

Hope was hiding inside, giggling madly as Rebekah crouched near the entrance, watching her with a wide smile on her face. Hayley and Klaus were sitting on the bench, chatting idly, while Kol was working on sculpting a large snowball.

Hope jumped out from behind the wall, throwing a snowball at Kol's back.

"Hope!" Kol cried, turning around as he grasped at his back dramatically.

The little girl laughed gleefully and disappeared behind the wall once again.

You smiled, watching the exchange. The sight was so normal, almost mundane. It was strange, seeing the Mikaelsons acting so human.

Hayley joined in on the snowball fight, scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at Kol. Her aim was true, and it hit him square in the chest.

"Oof," Kol groaned, clutching his chest. "I've been shot."

He toppled over into the snow, laying perfectly still.

Hope squealed, jumping up and running over to him. "Uncle Kol!"

Rebekah snorted, crossing her arms. "You've died. Again. Typical."

Kol cracked open one eye and smirked, grabbing Hope's legs and dragging her down with him.

"Nooo!" She shrieked, giggling wildly as she struggled to get away.

Elijah watched them, a fond smile playing at his lips. It was such a small thing, but it sent warmth rushing through you.

"It's good to see them having fun," he said, his voice quiet.

"Yeah," you agreed, your eyes still on him. "Are you having fun?"

He paused, considering the question. Then he knelt down, scooping up a handful of snow and shaping it. "I suppose so," he said, smiling up at you.

Your heart stuttered at the sight. His gaze was soft, affectionate, and you felt like you could get lost in those dark, soulful eyes.

Then he threw the snowball at you, the icy projectile hitting you square in the face.

The contact was so surprising, so unexpected, that it took a moment to process what had happened. When it finally sank in, you could only stare at him.

Elijah's eyes widened, his face the picture of innocence. "I'm sorry, did I hit you?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, Mikaelson," you warned, crouching down and gathering snow into your hands.

Elijah's smile grew wider, a playful challenge in his eyes. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear," he said, scooping up more snow.

You tossed your own snowball at him, aiming for his face.

He ducked, faster than humanly possible and the snowball sailed harmlessly past him.

"Hey! That's cheating!" You cried, gathering more snow.

"There are no rules in snowball fights, darling," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Klaus had joined the fray now, launching a barrage of snowballs at Elijah, while Hayley, Hope and Rebekah were targeting Kol.

You ducked and dodged, trying to avoid the flying snow, while attempting to take out Elijah.

His movements were quick, calculated, and it seemed like no matter how fast you moved, he was always one step ahead.

He was standing a few feet away, a playful grin on his face. It was the first time you'd ever seen him act so carefree, and it was infectious.

"C'mon, darling," he teased, "you'll have to do better than that."

You let out a huff, gathering more snow and shaping it into a tight ball. This time, you managed to hit him, the snow exploding against his shoulder.

"Impressive," he said, his tone light and teasing.

You couldn't stop the smile from forming on your lips, the thrill of the moment, the pure, unbridled joy in his eyes, filling you with an indescribable warmth.

Suddenly, a snowball hit you on the side of the head, sending ice crystals cascading down the front of your coat.

You yelped, swiping at the icy shards, and turned to see Kol grinning impishly. You grabbed a fistful of snow and hurled it at him, the missile landing with a satisfying thwack.

You joined in the fray, the sound of laughter and playful banter filling the air. You lost track of time, the snowy battle raging on.

Klaus wandered over to where Elijah was standing, a few feet from the others, watching the fight with a small smile on his face.

"This is nice," Klaus said, his eyes following Hope as she darted around.

"Yes, it is," Elijah agreed, his gaze fixed on you.

"She's quite a fighter, isn't she?" Klaus remarked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Indeed," Elijah murmured, his gaze never wavering.

Klaus watched him for a moment, then nudged him lightly. "I was talking about Hope. Who are you talking about?"

"Hm?" Elijah asked, finally tearing his gaze away.

Klaus smirked, leaning closer and dropping his voice to a low murmur. "Don't play coy with me, brother. We both know you're smitten."

Elijah's brow furrowed, his jaw clenching. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, please. The way you look at her, it's like she hung the stars," Klaus said, a teasing note in his voice.

"It's nothing," Elijah said, his expression closing off. "She's a friend. Nothing more."

"That's a lie and you know it," Klaus scoffed.

"Even if it were true," Elijah continued, his tone measured and controlled. "She deserves more than I can give her," he said, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice.

"Ohhh, so you are going with the martyr excuse this time? I should have guessed," Klaus said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Elijah looked like he wanted to say more, but you chose that moment to join them.

"Hey," you greeted, a flush on your cheeks. Your breath puffed out in little clouds, and a few strands of hair had escaped from your beanie, curling around your face. All Elijah wanted to do was brush them away, run his fingers along your jaw, feel the warmth of your skin.

Instead, he smiled politely, keeping his hands in his pockets. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah," you said, a little breathless. "This is so much fun. I can't remember the last time I played in the snow."

"Nor can I," Elijah admitted. He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "It is rather invigorating."

"It's freezing," you corrected, laughing softly.

"I'm sure Elijah will be more than happy to warm you up," Klaus teased, shooting his older brother a knowing look.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the suggestion, and you turned away, pretending to admire the scenery.

"Niklaus," Elijah hissed, glaring at him. "It's impolite to suggest such things."

Klaus shrugged, not the least bit apologetic. "But it's true right? Or have I read the situation incorrectly?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with a response. You were afraid of what Elijah might say, or worse, not say.

"We are just friends," Elijah said, his jaw set.

You tried not to let his words sting, but you couldn't help the pang of disappointment that twisted in your gut.

"Ah, yes, friends," Klaus drawled, rolling his eyes. "I think the rest of us are going to the cafe down the street to get some hot chocolate, are you two joining?"

"I'm going to head back to the compound," you said quickly, before Elijah could speak.

Klaus raised a brow, looking at Elijah with a smirk.

"I'll accompany you," Elijah said, his voice smooth.

"No," you insisted, a little too sharply. You winced and cleared your throat, forcing a smile. "I mean, no, that's okay. I don't want to keep you from having fun with the others. Besides, it's just a short walk. I'll be fine."

"Very well," Elijah conceded, his expression neutral.

Klaus shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

The silence that settled between you was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words.

You wanted to ask him what he meant, if there was a chance, or if he was just playing nice. But the fear of rejection kept the words trapped in your throat. You quickly turned away, afraid he would see the emotion written plainly on your face.

"I'm going to head out," you said, taking a step toward the street. "Have fun, okay?"

Elijah watched you leave, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He should have said something, should have explained. Instead, he had let you go, his silence a cowardly choice.

When you reached the compound, you shed your outer layers and flopped onto the sofa in front of the fireplace in the library. A wave of longing crashed over you, a deep ache that couldn't be filled. The feeling was transforming into frustration and anger, a familiar bitterness creeping in.

The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you sat up, seeing Elijah enter the room.

"I thought you were going to get hot chocolate," you said, forcing a small smile.

"I changed my mind," he replied, his voice soft.

You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. The silence was almost deafening, the tension palpable.

"So, uh, I was thinking about heading home soon," you said, needing to fill the void. "Once the snow lets up."

"Of course," Elijah agreed, though he sounded a bit hesitant.

You swallowed thickly, glancing at him. "Thanks for having me," you added, your voice a bit hoarse.

"Anytime," he said, and there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart flutter.

You gave him a small smile, the sadness creeping back in. This feeling of limbo was killing you, the not knowing.

"So, is there, uh, is there someone else?" You asked, unable to hold back any longer. Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to meet his eyes across the room. “Someone you're seeing?"

"No," Elijah replied, shaking his head.

"Oh, okay," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why do you ask?" He questioned, his tone carefully neutral.

You could have played it off, made a joke, deflected. But the weight of his gaze, the way he was looking at you, it was as if he could see into your very soul.

"You know why," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"Don't," you snapped, frustrated with his cryptic behavior. “Just be honest with me, stop with the bullshit.”

Elijah’s features shifted, his carefully composed mask slipping for just a moment. A shadow passed over his face as he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as though fighting an invisible force.

"It's not that simple," he said, his voice quiet as he approached you.

"Yes, it is," you countered.

"No," he said firmly. "You deserve someone who can give you what you want, someone who isn't... damaged. Someone who won't break your heart."

"I think that's for me to decide," you said, meeting his gaze.

"And what do you think I can give you?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not asking you for anything, this isn't a transaction," you said, the frustration creeping back in. "All I want is to know if you feel the same,"

His dark eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of hope. Then, the shutters fell, and his expression hardened.

"It doesn't matter," he said, turning away.

"No. Elijah. It does matter," you insisted, standing up and following him.

He didn't say a word, just kept walking towards the door.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, reaching out and touching his arm.

He flinched, but didn't pull away, and he slowly turned back to face you.

"Why are you trying to push me away?" You pressed, searching his face.

Elijah stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Anger, frustration, or perhaps longing. You couldn’t tell, but his inability to make a decision had your blood boiling.

"Just… stop," you said, letting go of his arm, the words sharper now as the emotions clawed their way up your throat.

"Stop what?" he asked, his voice clipped, as if daring you to elaborate.

"Stop being so self-sacrificing. Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Just... man up and take what you want," you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and desperation.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm about to break.

"You think this is easy for me?" he said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "You think I enjoy pretending I don’t feel something for you?"

"Then why do it?" you shot back, standing your ground.

"Because I have to!" he barked, his composure cracking as he raised his voice. The sudden intensity made you flinch, you had never heard him yell before, but you refused to back down.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice just as loud now. "Why are you so determined to ruin this before it even starts?"

"You don’t understand," he said, his tone quieter but no less fierce. He turned his back to you, his hands gripping the edge of the mantel above the fireplace. "You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can give you a family, children, a happy life. Someone who doesn’t bring danger and destruction to everything they touch."

"Stop deciding what I deserve!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the room.

He turned on you then, his dark eyes blazing with anger. "And what happens when you wake up one day and realize you’ve wasted your life on a monster? What happens when you resent me for stealing the life you could have had?"

You took a step closer, your own anger boiling over. "You don’t get to make that choice for me! I know what I want, Elijah, and it’s you. If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be standing here, begging you to let me in!"

Elijah’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked almost stunned. But then his expression hardened again, his frustration returning.

"I am trying to protect you!" he shouted back, his voice shaking the room.

"From what?" you screamed, stepping right into his space.

"From me," he hissed, his voice raw and broken.

The confession hung in the air, thick and heavy. For a moment, neither of you said anything, your breaths coming fast and shallow as you stared at each other.

"You’re such a coward," you said finally, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness.

His eyes narrowed, his anger sparking again. "You think I’m a coward? You think I don’t want you?" he growled, stepping so close his shadow seemed to swallow you.

You stared up at him, defiant, despite the fear and excitement rushing through you.

"Do you have any idea what it’s like to want something so badly and know you can never have it?" he asked, his voice strained, as though the words were torn from him against his will.

"Yes. I'm looking at him," you retorted, your heart pounding.

Whatever control he'd been clinging to shattered, his walls crumbling as he took hold of your arm, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped at the contact, feeling his body pressing into yours, the heat of his breath as it ghosted over your skin, the smell of leather and cologne mingled with something wild, primal.

Without saying a word he lifted you up, pinning you to the nearest wall, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss that stole your breath away.

You gripped the fabric of his suit, kissing him back just as fiercely, letting your hands explore along his chest, his shoulders. You were practically vibrating with want, your body humming with pent-up desire as you felt his arousal pressing against your thigh.

"You drive me insane," he murmured, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at the tender spot just below your ear, causing you to moan in anticipation.

You were like a moth to a flame, and he was the hottest fire you'd ever known, searing into your soul, consuming you from the inside out. And the way he touched you, it was as though he were afraid he'd never be able to hold you like this again.

He carried you upstairs to his bedroom in a blur of wind and sound, moving so fast you could barely comprehend it. In that moment, you were reminded that he was more than just a man. He was an ancient creature of immense power, and he was about to unleash every bit of that power on your body.

The moment your back hit the mattress he was on you, his hands tearing away your clothes and tossing them carelessly aside. You tugged at his clothes in return, desperate to feel his skin on yours, your breath hitching as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin.

It wasn't gentle or sweet, it was wild, passionate, full of all the words that went unspoken for far too long. You couldn't get enough, you wanted to lose yourself in this moment, in him. You didn't care about anything else.

The weight of him as he covered you with his body, the way his muscles rippled under your fingertips, the sounds he made when he lost control. You didn't expect this side of him, the almost feral desire he was unleashing.

His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them up until your knees were pressed against your chest, exposing you to him completely. His cock pressed against your slick entrance, teasing you, the sensation drawing out a breathy moan.

"Is this what you want?” he groaned, the head of his cock pressing just a fraction inside.

You groaned in frustration, writhing against him, trying to get him to sink deeper.

He chuckled darkly, holding your hips still. "You need to learn to be patient, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone dark and seductive.

You whined, but you knew better than to push him, and you could see the gleam in his eyes. You felt a sharp smack to your thigh, causing you to yelp in surprise, the stinging pain giving way to a dull warmth that only intensified your need.

"Now be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I've always wanted to," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

The way his accent wrapped around each syllable had a shudder rolling through your body. He gripped your thighs tighter, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you slowly. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you cried out as he sank to the hilt.

"So pretty when you sing for me," he teased, nipping at your throat.

You couldn't even form a response, your brain short-circuiting as he pulled almost all the way out, the thick head of his cock catching on your entrance. Then, in one swift stroke, he eased back inside you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy, desperate kiss as he began to move inside you, each thrust hitting you in all the right places. His strokes were firm and deep, sending waves of pleasure washing over you, each thrust making you gasp for air.

It was everything you had hoped for, everything you'd been craving, and so much more. Your nails dug into the firm muscles of his chest, leaving half-moon marks on his pale skin.

"Do you know all the things I want to do to you?" he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sent a rush of heat through your core. You whimpered in response, unable to form words.

He let out a soft laugh, his hips moving at a maddening pace, as he teased, "All the places I've thought about having you," he whispered.

You could feel your release coiling deep within you, but he wouldn't let you come, keeping you on the edge. Your mind was clouded with need, and his words only added fuel to the fire.

"Like right here in my bed," he continued, "Or taking you against the window for anyone who might be watching. Or bent over the balcony railing, with my fingers buried inside your wet little pussy while your scream fills the night sky."

The thought alone had you clenching around him, the fantasy sending your body into a spiral of need and pleasure.

"Would you like that? Being my plaything?" he purred.

You let out a needy whine, your nails clawing down his back, drawing blood. You needed him to make good on his promises.

"I think you would," he teased, nipping at your neck, drawing more moans from you.

You bucked your hips, your legs wrapped around him as you tried to take control.

"So eager," he groaned as he released his hold on your thighs, gripping the headboard for leverage, and the new position allowed him to hit even deeper, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"You want it?" He taunted, his voice ragged as his strokes became more forceful.

You moaned incoherently, feeling yourself start to lose control, and Elijah laughed, his voice deep and husky as he said, "Then take it," as if challenging you to finally fall off the edge.

Your breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping you as your release finally crested over, and you came harder than you'd ever imagined. Your mind went completely blank, your vision blurred as the wave of euphoria crashed over you.

You were only vaguely aware of the sensation of his cock pulsing inside you, your name falling from his lips as he reached his own peak, spilling himself deep within you.

Your breathing was labored and shallow, your body humming with aftershocks as he began to kiss his way along your neck and down your collarbone, the feel of his lips ghosting over your skin drawing out soft whimpers.

His kisses grew more tender, the touch almost reverent as he murmured against your skin, "So perfect for me," his voice barely above a whisper, the words almost lost to the room.

He kept moving down your body, his lips brushing over every inch of bare skin as if memorizing it. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands tangling in his hair as you allowed yourself to just enjoy the sensation of him exploring you, worshipping you, like you were his religion, his salvation.

"'lijah," you said breathlessly, feeling him spread your thighs.

He didn't say a word as he lowered his head, his tongue finding your clit and lapping at you, drawing a loud cry from you as he cleaned up the mess he had made. You didn't have it in you to beg him to stop, his ministrations driving you to near-insanity, his tongue dragging through your slit.

He hummed softly, enjoying the sounds you were making. The way you squirmed, softly protesting as you felt yourself falling deeper under his spell.

"More," you whined, tugging at his hair.

He let out a deep laugh, and the vibration had your back arching as your climax rolled through you again, and your release flooded his tongue.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Elijah shifted, and you cracked an eye open, your body feeling boneless as you tried to get your bearings.

"Holy fuck," you said, your voice barely audible.

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you sighed contentedly. The air was heavy with lingering tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Yet, as you lay tangled together, the heat of his body grounding you, the world outside seemed to melt away. For now, there was only this. The sense of finally being together.

"I didn't think you would be such a talker in bed," you said, breaking the silence.

You felt his body shake as he laughed again, a low, throaty sound that made you weak. You shifted, cuddling closer, your head on his chest as you traced circles on his bare skin.

"What?" You asked, playfully nipping at his collarbone. "You can't just say all that to me and expect me not to comment on it,"

"I was just stating facts, nothing more," he said, the smirk audible in his tone.

"Mhm," you teased. "Well, I hope you know I expect you to follow through,"

Elijah laughed softly, his arms tightening around you. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice deep and seductive. "In that case, you should get some rest. I have a very long list of things I want to do to you."

Your face flushed, and you laughed, trying to play it off. But deep down, you were hoping that list was never-ending.

"Don't think for a second I'll be satisfied with one round, I can keep you up for days if you let me," he teased, nipping your neck playfully.

The thought of him keeping you locked up in his bedroom for days, indulging your every fantasy and need, made you squirm in anticipation.

You sat up slightly, pushing on his chest so he was lying on his back, his arms still wrapped around you, pulling you along for the ride. You straddled him, kissing him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips on yours.

"We'll see who keeps who up," you teased, rolling your hips over his already growing cock.

He hummed in approval, his hands gripping your ass as you continued to move, slowly grinding against him. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you picked up the pace.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs pulled your attention away, and you heard the voices of the rest of the family downstairs.

You felt your cheeks heat up and Elijah smirked, gripping your thighs as he sat up, pulling you closer and wrapping your legs around him. He kissed along your neck, whispering softly.

"We should probably join them before they get suspicious," he murmured.

You hummed in agreement, not really wanting to move but knowing he was right. You let him lift you up and set you down on the edge of the bed.

"We have a lot to talk about," you said, grabbing your clothes from the floor and beginning to get dressed.

"We do," Elijah agreed, watching you. "I can't promise this will be easy," he warned, "but I want to try, if you're willing."

You turned to face him, taking a step closer and helping him button up his shirt. You leaned in, kissing him softly.

"I want that more than anything," you said, resting your forehead against his, feeling like you could finally breathe again.

He smiled, the look of pure happiness on his face warming your heart. He kissed you once more, slow and tender, and you knew in that moment that nothing would ever feel as good as being loved by him.

By the time you both made it downstairs, the rest of the family had settled in the parlor, hot chocolate in hand. Hope was curled up beside Klaus, who was dramatically recounting his snowball victory to an unimpressed Hayley. "I was vastly outnumbered, of course," Klaus was saying, his tone full of mock gravitas. "But my superior tactics won the day."

"You were hit in the face three times," Hayley retorted, rolling her eyes as she sipped her drink. "By a seven-year-old."

"Details," Klaus muttered, waving a hand as if dismissing the thought. Beside him, Hope giggled, her cheeks still rosy from the cold.

Kol leaned lazily against the doorframe, cradling his mug and watching the exchange with a smirk. "Don’t worry, Nik. We’ll still tell our enemies that you have never been defeated," he quipped, earning a laugh from Rebekah, who was perched elegantly on the couch.

As you and Elijah entered the room, Rebekah's gaze immediately shifted to the two of you, her brow arching with curiosity. "Well, look who decided to join us," she said, a knowing edge in her voice. "Took you long enough. Don’t worry, we saved you some hot chocolate."

Elijah’s hand rested lightly on your lower back as he guided you toward the table, a move that did not go unnoticed by his siblings, who were all eyeing you with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

You glanced at Elijah, feeling your cheeks heat up. "We got… sidetracked," he said simply, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile.

Klaus snorted, but a deadly look from Elijah silenced the impending snarky remark. You helped yourself to a cup of hot chocolate, which tasted sinfully good, the heat and sweetness seeping through you as you settled on the couch next to Rebekah. Elijah sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your knee.

You snuggled close to him and felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you in even closer as the family laughed and teased one another, enjoying this rare moment of peace and contentment. You smiled to yourself, letting yourself sink into the warmth and love of the moment, knowing that it wouldn't always be this easy but that you would fight for every minute of it.

513 notes · View notes

holyblonded · 22 days ago

Text

uncertified babysitter | stargirl

pairings: irene paredes x teen!reader, oc x reader

summary: you are irene’s last resort

notes: enjoy!

Irene sighed, rubbing her temples as yet another babysitter canceled at the last minute. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her frustration in check.

“No, no, I understand. Feel better. Bye.” She ended the call and groaned, tossing her

phone onto the bed.

Lucía stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying her hair. “Another one?”

“Yes,” Irene huffed, flopping onto the bed dramatically. “That’s the third one today. At this rate, we might as well—”

Lucía sat beside her, resting a hand on her knee. “Maybe we should cancel? We can always go another time…”

Irene immediately shot up, shaking her head. “No! Thursdays are date nights. We agreed. We haven’t had one in weeks, and I refuse to let the universe keep ruining them.” She chewed on her bottom lip, considering. “There is… one more person I could call.”

Lucía raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you’re about to summon a demon?”

Irene exhaled, ignoring the question as she grabbed her phone and scrolled to your contact. She hit call, pressing the phone to her ear. It rang twice before the line picked up, and immediately, chaos erupted in the background.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE MENACE!” your voice rang through the speaker, followed by a crash and a giggle that absolutely did not belong to you.

Irene pulled the phone away from her ear, blinking. “Oh, Dios mío… what are you even—”

“HEY, IRENE! YOU NEED ME TO WATCH MATEO? SAY LESS, I’M IN!”

Irene’s eyes widened. “Wait, no, actually—”

“TOO LATE! SEE YOU IN TEN!” you shouted, then the call cut off.

Irene slowly lowered the phone, looking at Lucía with the weariness of a woman who had just made a grave mistake.

Lucía bit back a smile. “You were saying?”

Fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Irene and Lucía’s apartment, practically bouncing with excitement. Mateo squealed when he saw you, barreling into your arms.

“‘Strella!” he cheered, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck.

“MY FAVORITE LITTLE GUY!” you declared, spinning him around.

Irene sighed, crossing her arms. “Where’s Soleil?”

“Right here,” Soleil answered, stepping into the doorway with a calm, warm smile.

Irene nearly collapsed in relief. “Thank God.”

Soleil chuckled, setting down a small bag. “I figured you’d need someone to balance this out.”

Irene nodded, looking between you and Mateo who were already conspiring about something, whispering dramatically. It sent a shiver down her spine. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

She cleared her throat, stepping forward with a very serious expression. “Alright, listen up. Mateo goes to bed by 8:30. No candy before bedtime. No staying up late watching cartoons. No building dangerous pillow forts. No—are you even listening to me?”

She glared at you, but you were too busy letting Mateo climb onto your back, pretending to be a superhero.

“Uh-huh, yeah, of course, totally,” you mumbled, grinning as Mateo clapped his hands and yelled, “TO THE SKY!”

Irene ran a hand down her face, looking one step away from losing it. “Soleil—”

“I got it,” Soleil reassured her smoothly, resting a gentle hand on Irene’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan.”

Irene exhaled, tension slipping from her shoulders. “I trust you.” She pointed at you. “Not so much you, but Sol, yes.”

Lucía grabbed her coat, nudging her wife toward the door. “Come on, before you change your mind.”

Irene took one last look at Mateo, who was now sitting on your shoulders like a king, giggling as you paraded him around the living room. Soleil, ever responsible, was already setting up some crafts at the table, gently calling for Mateo to come help.

Irene sighed. “Okay. We’ll be back by ten. Call if anything happens.”

“We won’t, we got it!” you said cheerfully.

Irene opened her mouth to protest but Lucía tugged her out the door before she could change her mind.

You and Mateo had been chasing each other around the living room for the past ten minutes, the game entirely unspoken yet perfectly understood, he was trying to steal the ball from you, and you were doing everything in your power to keep it away from him. Your movements were quick, darting around furniture with practiced ease, while Mateo’s were a little less coordinated, his tiny legs working double-time to keep up.

Soleil sat curled up on the couch, watching with mild amusement and growing concern as you barely dodged the coffee table for the third time.

“Estre, be careful,” she warned, shifting forward slightly, her voice carrying that soft but firm quality she used when she was worried about you. “Mateo—”

But before she could finish, Mateo lunged. His little feet slipped out from under him, and he tumbled forward, landing with a soft thud against the carpet. His head knocked lightly against the floor, not enough to truly hurt, but just enough to startle him. Soleil gasped, already moving to scoop him up, but you were faster.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” you soothed, kneeling beside him before he could even let out a cry, your hands gently cupping his face as you checked him over. “Tough guy, yeah? Barely a scratch.”

Mateo sniffled, big watery eyes looking up at you as he pouted. “It hurts.”

“I know, bud,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “But you’re super strong, right? Like, the strongest.”

Mateo nodded slowly, sniffling again but relaxing slightly as you rubbed his back in slow, comforting circles. Soleil, watching from above, felt something warm bloom in her chest. She loved seeing you like this—soft and patient, all that boundless energy you carried shifting into something careful and protective.

“I’ll get you an ice pack,” she said, brushing her fingers through Mateo’s curls before disappearing into the kitchen. You stayed where you were, still murmuring reassurances to him, still making sure he knew he was safe.

When Soleil returned, she crouched down and carefully placed the ice pack on Mateo’s head, guiding his small hands to hold it in place. “And a bandaid, just because I know you like them.”

Mateo’s face lit up immediately, his injury momentarily forgotten. “A cool one?”

Soleil smiled, already pulling out a brightly colored one from the little first-aid kit. “The coolest.”

She helped him press it onto his arm—nowhere near the actual bump, but it didn’t matter. Mateo studied it seriously, turning his arm this way and that before his eyes flicked up to you. He was already wearing that look, the one he used when he knew you were a soft touch.

“Estre,” he said, voice dripping with exaggerated sadness. “Can I have some candy? Since I’m hurt?”

You hesitated, squinting at him. On one hand, you knew he was milking this for all it was worth. On the other hand… he was really cute. Your resolve wavered. You opened your mouth, about to agree—

“No candy,” Soleil said gently but firmly, ruffling Mateo’s hair before he could argue. “But we can have a snack, something good for you.”

Mateo pouted for a second, looking between you and Soleil, clearly debating his odds of winning this battle. But Soleil was already distracting him, listing snack options, making it sound like the most exciting thing in the world, and just like that, the candy was forgotten.

You stared at her, half-impressed, half-betrayed. “You’re sneaky.”

Soleil just smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek before standing. “I know.”

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the park as you and Mateo kicked the ball back and forth on the small pitch downstairs. He was determined, dribbling with all the intensity his little legs could muster, but you were a wall, blocking every shot, reading his movements before he even made them, making him work for every touch… even if he was four.

Mateo groaned in frustration, stomping his foot dramatically. “¡No es justo!” he whined, his little face scrunching up like he was on the verge of an epic tantrum. Before you could even react, he turned on his heel and sprinted toward Soleil, who was sitting on a nearby bench, watching the game with a knowing smile. (It’s not fair!)

You grinned as he threw himself into her arms, immediately burying his face in her shoulder. Soleil let out a soft “oof” at the impact, but her hands automatically went to rub his back, bouncing him lightly as she whispered something soothing in his ear. Then, she lifted her head, locking eyes with you, her voice dripping with forced sweetness.

“Is your hermana Estrella not letting you get any goals?”

You bit back a laugh as she stared daggers at you while still gently rocking Mateo. He nodded dramatically, sniffling just for added effect, and you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Fine,” you muttered, knowing exactly where this was going.

Soleil kissed the top of Mateo’s head before giving him an exaggerated nod of encouragement, and with renewed determination, he trotted back onto the pitch, his tiny legs moving as fast as they could. You played along, letting him slip past you—just once. When the ball hit the back of the net, he gasped, eyes wide with disbelief before breaking into the biggest grin.

“¡GOOOOOL!” Mateo shrieked, running in circles before launching himself at you. You laughed, catching him easily and spinning him around before setting him back down, ruffling his curls.

“See? You got it, campeón.”

Just as you were catching your breath, Mateo turned to Soleil, tugging on her hand. “Soleil, you have to play with us!”

Soleil blinked, looking between you and Mateo like she wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting herself into. “I—”

“Pleaseeeeee,” Mateo dragged out, pouting up at her with those big, impossible-to-resist eyes.

You smirked. “Come on, Sol. Think you can take me?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t even play football.”

Mateo gasped as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard. “But Estrella can teach you! She’s one the bestest in the world.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “Yeah, Sol. I can teach you.”

Soleil exhaled in defeat, giving Mateo’s hand a little squeeze. “Fine, but if I fall on my face, we are never talking about it again.”

Mateo cheered like he had just won the World Cup himself, dragging her onto the grass. What followed was the most chaotic game of football imaginable. Soleil running around in absolute confusion, Mateo tackling both of you at every opportunity, and you trying (and failing) not to laugh at Soleil’s lack of coordination.

At one point, Mateo kicked the ball directly at her, and instead of stopping it, she shrieked and ducked, letting it roll past her into the net.

“I’m getting better,” Soleil deadpanned, hands on her hips. You and Mateo fell over laughing.

The game continued until the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Finally, exhausted and out of breath, the three of you collapsed onto a bench, Mateo sprawling across both of your laps, his tiny body warm and peaceful as his breathing evened out.

You watched him for a moment, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. His weight against you, the soft sound of his breaths, it was grounding. Soleil, beside you, absentmindedly traced patterns on his back, her fingers moving in slow, soothing strokes.

“This is nice,” she murmured, her voice quieter than before.

You nodded, resting your head against hers. “Yeah, it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. The streetlights flickered on in the distance, casting a warm glow over the park.

Then Soleil spoke again, almost hesitantly. “Do you ever think about the future?”

You turned your head slightly to look at her. “All the time.”

She smiled, still watching the sky. “What do you see?”

You thought for a moment, then looked down at Mateo, at the way his little fingers curled around the fabric of Soleil’s shirt in his sleep, at the peace in his tiny face. “Something like this,” you admitted softly. “Something warm. Something soft. You, me… maybe a little one running around, kicking a ball just like Mateo.”

Soleil’s breath hitched, and when you looked at her, her eyes were glistening. She smiled, biting her lip like she was trying to hold back all the emotions rushing through her.

“That sounds perfect,” she whispered.

You squeezed her hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your chest. The idea of forever with Soleil had never felt like a question—just a certainty, something inevitable, something that had been written long before either of you had even realized it.

As the stars started to peek out in the sky above, you closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling of Soleil next to you, of Mateo’s soft breaths against your arm, of the quiet promise that no matter what the future held, this love, this warmth, was something you’d always have.

#woso x platonic!reader #woso fic #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x teen!reader #woso #irene paredes x reader #irene paredes x teen!reader #barca femeni x teen!reader #barca femeni x reader #barca x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona x reader #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #⋆｡˚ stargirl #⋆｡˚ estrella & soleil

336 notes · View notes