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mywritersmind · 6 days ago

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HIDE YOUR NAME NOT YOUR TEAM - LN4

summary : In which a pretty red head catches Lando’s eye one night in mexico, a rude remark and laughable flirting stays on both of their minds. The last thing Lando expects is to see her again in the paddock, while he’s determined to figure her out, she’s determined to hide her name and why she constantly is spotted in orange.

listen up : panic attack, sexual comments, comedy!! lando norris x bosses!daughter.

word count : 5404

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t usually go to these things. But Alexandra convinced me when she said I could borrow her dyson.

“I take it back.” I say as I get my drink, we’re sat at the bar, Charles already gone to find some drivers, “Let’s go back to the hotel! Girls night!” I beg her but she just shakes her head.

“You look too hot for that.” I sigh, I do look hot tonight. I’m in a black mini dress, sheer tights, and knee high boots that are the same shade of burgundy red as my hair.

Just as she says that, Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, comes up to us, “Y/n! You never come out with us!” She hugs me and I smile. I never do but I do like hanging with my girls.

“I had to drag her here!” Alex sips her drink as Rebecca laughs. We’re in Mexico for the grand prix, something I also rarely find myself at.

“Don’t make that face! You deserve a day off.” I sigh, knowing they’re right.

“Alright.” I down the rest of my drink, coughing and turning to the bartender, “Three shots please! Surprise us!”

The girls squeal and as soon as I sit back down, I know it’s gonna be a good night.

I’m multiple drinks in, dancing with my friends, when Carlos and Charles sweep my friends away like it’s nothing.

I scoff, going to walk off the dance floor before a man stops me, “Wanna dance?” I almost laugh when I see who it is. I can tell he sees me thinking about it, “I promise I don’t bite.”

⋆༺

LANDO NORRIS

I noticed her when she was dancing with some guy who was out of his mind wasted. I saw her hair first, a dark cherry red with messy waves.

I don’t know if she’s here with friends but I do know that I want to know more.

She’s staring at me like i’ve just asked her to do a backflip, “Uh… no.” She shakes her head and walks straight past me.

What the fuck?

I haven’t had a girl reject me in a long time, but it’s not unheard of. Still, something about her is telling me to not give up.

“Wait! I’ll buy you a drink!” I hurry after her, she’s flipping her hair over her shoulder and eyeing me, “Please?”

“Please?” She laughs, “You can’t find any other girl besides me?” She hops up onto a bar stool and I lean against the counter, staying close.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m Lando.”

“Yeah, I know.” This surprises me.

“Oh! Well then you know I'm not a creep, so you’ll let me buy you a drink?” She crosses her arms, she seems to be assessing me.

“Fine.” I get her a dirty martini and water for myself. “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be down to buy a pretty girl a drink.” I smile as she sips her drink, “I never caught your name-”

“Mhm…” She looks around the club, obviously not interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, Red.” She doesn’t even flinch at the nickname, “Why are you in Mexico?”

She hums, “Family.” she lets out a long breath.

I frown at her lack of interest, “That’s fun. I’m racing here this weekend.” She doesn’t respond, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise I'm not like whatever shit magazine you read.”

She looks at me after that and I immediately know I fucked up. Except instead of throwing her drink on me, she just laughs, “God, you’re an asshole.” And with that, she walks away.

⋆༺

YOU

Lando Norris hitting on me was not something I expected from that night.

But it immediately became worse once I remembered why I was in Mexico.

“Sweetheart!” My dad hugs me tight. Zak Brown is a lot of things but a shit dad isn’t one of them. He’s in all orange, contrasting my white dress. I smile as he pulls back, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

I have gone to four grand prix’s in my life. It seems a bit odd for someone who’s father is there almost every weekend, but we had a deal. I was a sort of trouble child, more in my teens when I wanted more freedom. I took some years off of school but I realized what I was wasting and got right back into college.

My dad said I couldn’t come to a grand prix until I finished school. I was annoyed at first, who wouldn’t want to spend their weekends partying with rich people and flying on private jets? But I sort of fell in love with my studies in fashion and had no time anyway.

But I recently graduated and am back in my papaya fathers reach.

“How are you doing? Excited to be back?” I nod as I walk up the paddock with him.

“Very! I’ve missed everything, especially my friends.” He smiles and I’m happy I can make him do that in public.

“I’m so proud. Oh!” I see my nightmare in neon and freeze, “Come meet one of our drivers, he’s a bit like you, I think.” My dad looks back at my frozen position and frowns.

“I forgot I have to grab food with Lily! New friend duties, right! Remember how happy you are that i’m making friends!? Bye!” I turn around and run.

I end up meeting up with Lily because as soon as I heard myself say it, I suddenly really wanted to see her. Lily isn’t new to the paddock, but I’ve only met her a couple times. We follow each other on instagram and have DM’d multiple times.

After our taco and gossip session, practice started and I know I should be watching, but I want to explore more. So instead, I walk around the Paddock alone.

I seriously missed this environment. One of my favorite memories from when I was a kid was my dad walking me around the paddock. I love the hustle and bustle of the paparazzi, fans, and drivers.

I also love the quiet in the paddock while the cars are on track. I make it back inside, finally finding a bathroom and after fixing my hair and makeup, I wander more halls.

I don’t want to admit I'm lost, but I definitely am. I’m about to call Lily and Rebecca but realize I am a strong independent woman! That and I'm a tad embarrassed.

I turn yet another corner and see the worst person for this situation. I realize he hasn’t seen me yet but when I go to turn he eyes me, “Red?” He looks genuinely shocked and I'm even more shocked that he remembers me!

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’s in his race suit, sweaty, and way too good looking with it unzipped. He runs his hand through his curls, has he always been this attractive?

Sorry! Dickhead. I don’t like this man. He’s an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Is all he can say.

“Hey!” I smile, “Thanks for buying me that drink the other night…” When I left him at the bar, I did not think about the whole MY FATHER IS HIS BOSS thing.

“What are you doing here?” I hide my paddock pass behind my back, “Seriously. You’re not some stalker are you?”

I roll my eyes, “No but I am lost.” I can’t ask him to point me to the Mclaren garage because then he’ll ask why so I go for the next best thing, “I’m looking for the ferrari garage!” I need to text Alex right now.

“I’m still confused- you said you were in town for family.” Fuck my life.

“Yeah! Well… Alex is like family to me! And she invited me. Alex as in-“

“Charles’ girlfriend. Yeah I know.” He moves his water bottle from one hand to the other, stepping closer. “But, why would I help you if you think I'm an asshole?”

Okay. Good point.

“Because you think I'm pretty?” I smile and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “And because you were being pretty cocky!”

He nods, “Fair enough. Come with me.” I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Hey, why were you in here anyways?” He shrugs and keeps walking for a bit before answering.

“Needed a breather.”

I nod, walking with him in silence, he opens the door for me and the sun hits up straight on. “So… how's the whole driving thing going?”

He glances at me, “It's alright. Quali tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Although I kinda hope you don’t get first.” He raises a brow. “I’m a big Piastri fan.”

He looks genuinely hurt, “I didn’t even think you watched.”

I frown, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I'm here.”

“Yeah but you… nevermind.”

I stop, turning to him, “You have to tell me now!”

He grins, looking away and continuing to walk, “You just didn’t have a reaction when I hit on you.” I scoff, “I know, I know! Dickish.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Honestly… fair enough. If I looked like you with the whole famous rich thing. I’d be pulling left and right.”

He eyes me, “So you think i’m attractive.” My face drops and I look ahead, “Hey it’s okay we already know I think you’re hot!” God if my dad ever heard this…

“Just shut up.” He does.

Until he doesn’t, “You really a big Oscar fan?”

I’m happy that I got under his skin with that one, “What if I said I liked Verstappen more?”

“I’d leave your lost ass right here.” Lando says it so serious that all I can do is laugh. He looks proud after I look at him again. “Seriously though.”

“Ferrari girl through and through.” He rolls those gorgeous green eyes of his, “McLaren might be second best though. Plus that Colapinto kid…”

He rolls his eyes, “You can’t like Franco more than me.”

“What, you jealous?” He points to turn and when we do, I see the garages in view.

“Gonna give me your name yet? Or am I sticking to Red?”

I pull his same move and avoid the question, “Thanks for showing me back.”

“Is it bad I like it when you’re mean to me?” I groan and walk away, “Bye, Red!”

“Later, Norris.”

⋆༺

“He doesn’t know who you are!?” Lily and Alexandra scream at the same time, we’re sitting in my hotel room when I called an emergency girls meeting. Except Rebecca is with Carlos to celebrate a little after his pole.

I cover my face with my hands, “But why does it matter!?”

“He’s obviously is hot for you.” Alex shrugs as Lily laughs, rolling onto her back.

“Babe, No wonder he’s so interested in you! I mean- besides the fact that you’re hilarious and drop dead gorgeous- he definitely is intrigued.”

I shake my head, “More like plotting to get me back for calling him an asshole.”

“Wait! You called him an asshole!?” Lily laughs even harder, “I love you!”

“Genuine question though… why don’t you go for it?” I stare at Alex as if she has two heads.

“Go for it!? Lando Norris?” She nods, “No way! Besides the fact that my dad is his boss, he’s way too cocky, and he doesn’t even know my name, I still wouldn’t go for him.”

“That’s kinda part of the appeal.” Alex shrugs, “What!? He knows nothing about you but thinks your hot! Seems like enough to me.”

We end up crying laughing, the conversation straying from Lando and to all the on track drama.

⋆༺

I’ve been avoiding the McLaren garage like the plague. I was there this morning but stayed on Oscar’s side. After meeting him, falling in love with him (platonically of course), and seeing that Lando was completely locked into Qualifying, I took my first breath of calmness.

The boys went out and I popped over to talk to Pato. Quali was over way quicker than I expected, After Oscar’s P17 a weird energy was in the garage and as soon as I saw Lando’s car, I was out of there.

What game am I even playing? Maybe it’s a little hot that he doesn’t know who I am… I don’t know why. Plenty of people have bugged me because of who my dad is, but Lando doesn’t need extra grand prix tickets or me to spot him money.

I find myself in a large room, it’s filled with chairs and a couch facing them. I grin immediately, how the hell is this just open?

I obviously am going to take my chance and pretend to be a talented man! The couch is not as comfortable as I expected and I almost fucking jump off of it when someone walks in.

He's breathing heavily and I recognize something’s wrong immediately. He’s pulling off the velcro of his race suit, unzipping it and pacing. “Lando.”

His head shoots up immediately, just staring at me, “Fuck Red, why are you everywhere?” His breath is labored and shaky.

I stand slowly as he slides down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head back. I’m confused because he seemed fine twenty minutes ago. P3 was not bad especially for where they are right now.

I start to say something but he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” He points to his throat and I realize he can’t breathe.

“I like your hair.” I say quickly, he looks so shocked when he looks up at me, “You look really good with it.” He keeps breathing heavily.

“Huh?”

“Although, you should ditch that fuck ass hat.” He tries to laugh but he’s still struggling. I slowly sit in front of him, “Seriously, who told you to wear that?”

“I- I have to.”

I roll my eyes but my hands are shaking. I’m not a stranger to a panic attack and seeing it happen to someone in front of me is a little scary, “Free will? I mean we all know you have it with the amount of times you whip out your middle finger.”

He laughs again, breathy, but his breathing seems to be getting slower.

“You definitely have free will.” he chokes out, “Saw you- today. Flirting with Lewis.” He got me there.

“Okay! Have you seen him? Who wouldn’t!?”

He shakes his head, “He’s way older.”

“Some people might find that hot.” He side eyes me, “Don’t worry I'm still into guys my own age.”

He’s smiling, nodding. We stay silent for a moment, his head resting against his knees as he catches his breath. He finally slides his legs out in front of him and I scoot next to him.

I tap my neck to ask for permission and he understands immediately, nodding. My hand slips to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot last year.” I explain as I feel his heart underneath my touch. He doesn’t say anything, just looking into my eyes. I swallow, “Your heart is going crazy.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah I don’t think that’s because of the panic attack.”

I give him a look, “Seriously? Even in distress you’re a flirt.”

He licks his lips, “You’re good at calming people.”

“All I did was talk, not that hard.” My hand is still on his neck. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, looking away just as I drop my hand back to my side, “Mhm. Thank you.” His hand goes to mine as if it’s nothing. I’m shaking. He rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes, and squeezing my hand. “I think I owe you another drink, Red.”

⋆༺

It’s not until after more press and the conference is over, when Lando finds me again.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I raise a brow, “Come on, as a thank you.”

“You already said thank you.” I sip my water as he frowns. He’s out of his race suit and into jeans and a McLaren shirt.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and press the back of my hand to his forehead, “Oh no! Seems like you have a case of aiming high.” He mocks me as I cross my arms.

“Red, If you’re that high, I'll take my McLaren rocket ship and meet you.” I laugh at his words.

“A bit late on the whole rocket ship thing.” He sighs.

“We’ll have fun. Please. Why not?” He goes through five emotions in two seconds.

“You’re sinister, evil, and orange.” My eyes stray who who’s also orange and walking quickly up to us, “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud.

Lando turns around quickly, then back to me, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of Zak. I’ll introduce you-”

“No! I’m not! I gotta go!”

“Wha- Red!” I walk away so fast that I don’t see the man rounding the corner.

“Y/n?” Oscar looks at me confused, “Alright?”

“Hi!” I quickly move past him but he follows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is trying to introduce me to Zak Brown.” I say simply as we turn another corner and Oscar frowns.

“Zak Brown as in your dad Zak Brown?” I look at him, nodding. Then he laughs, “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope. Sort of a long story but I'm in too deep now.” I cross my arms and he starts laughing harder.

“I’m completely here for this- Just one question though… how the fuck does he not know who you are? You’ve been in the garage.”

“He’s blind and I'm a mastermind?” I shrug and of course, Lando finds us.

“Red! No!” He groans when he sees Oscar, “Osc, Don’t convert her into a you fan i’m trying so hard to get her to like me!” Oscar laughs harder, covering his mouth and looking at me.

“I don’t need to be converted! I’m already an Oscar fan!” Lando frowns as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry mate, everyone’s an Oscar fan.” He pats Lando on the shoulder before leaving. “See ya…” I can tell he’s about to say my name but he stops himself.

Lando narrows his eyes at me, “He knows your name?” I bite my lip and walk away. “Hey wait! Any thoughts about tonight?”

I glance back at him, “Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

He smirks, catching up to me, “Wanna know my pre race ritual?” I push him away from me, “I’ll give you a hint.” He winks and my stomach does a weird flip.

“You’re never gonna stop, are you?” I place my hands on my hips, looking up at the man.

“Tell me to, and I will.” I stay quiet, his eyes meeting mine and the corner of his lip quirking up. Someone calls his name but his eyes stay on me, smiling. He leans down and taps his knuckles against his hand, “Bye, Red.”

⋆༺

Although Lando has been running around my head, I still have other duties besides being flirted with. I’m at dinner with my dad, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. And I will say, I missed it.

He’s busy and obviously distracted but i’m grateful for any time I get with him. We’re in the Paddock but everybody is gone except for a few engineers and workers.

“Tell me about your weekend! I haven’t seen you much in the garage.” He takes a bite out of his salad, looking down at his texts.

“I’ve been around.” I shrug, drinking my lemonade, “It’s good to be back. But I have been sneaking off with my friends a bit…”

He smiles, “I’m glad. Even if you aren’t cheering us on.” I laugh, “You will be watching from the garage tomorrow, though.”

I nod, “Yes yes, I know.”

We get into a conversation about the issues with my apartment and how he thinks I should move back home. I get the feeling that he’s worried about tomorrow and suddenly wonder if he’s like this every weekend.

My dad gets a call which ends our dinner early, “I gotta grab my bag then I'll head to the hotel.” I kiss him on the cheek and make my way to the garage.

There’s a few people hanging back, some looking at screens and someone laying on the floor, looking at Lando’s back wing.

I grab my purse, rummaging around in it to make sure my phone is there. “You sure you’re not stalking me, Red?” That damn voice makes me jump.

He's sitting on the floor next to his own car, his arms and black shirt dirty. Was he… fixing his car?

I raise a brow, “What are you doing?” He takes the rag next to him and wipes off his hands, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

I cross my arms, “Stealing information for ferrari.” He smirks, shaking his head and walking past me to grab his water.

“Instead of having dinner with me? You need to sort your priorities out.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “Do you work on your own car often?”

“I can’t do much but I do like to see how it looks.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall and glancing at the people working, “You seriously not gonna tell me who you know at McLaren? You obviously have an in.”

He waves to the people who are packing up and walking out. We are now alone.

I hum, knowing there’s no chance I'm about to tell him who my ‘in’ is. He laughs a bit, “Alright, stay mysterious. Wanna sit in it?” I almost think I didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?” He nods, standing and walking over to his car, “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already driven one or something.”

I smile, shaking my head and walking towards him, “No. I used to kart but I’m actually shit at it.” He laughs, beckoning me closer. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me as I stand in front of him, “Okay put your foot here,” he points, “And hold onto this.” He points again and I do as I'm told.

I hate to admit it, but I am quite clumsy. When I slip a bit, his hands go to catch me instantly. Thank you driver reaction practice.

He lifts me down into the seat, his hands regretfully leaving me. I look up at him, “For once, you look tall.” His smile drops, leaning over me.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs and starts pointing at things. I try to listen but his hand is right in front of my face and I’m genuinely surprised how much I don’t know.

“You’re so far down.” I hum, holding my hands out as if I'm driving, “My back already hurts.” He smiles and kneels next to me.

“You look good in here. Seems like a complete hazard though, even if the car isn’t on.” I tilt my head up to look at him. A curl is falling perfectly in his face. “I didn’t wear the hat as much today, what’d you think?”

I smile at the fact that he listened to my bullshit, “How are you, by the way?”

He nods, avoiding my eyes and messing around with something on the car, “Fine.”

“So the whole panic attack thing was just for fun?” He eyes me, biting his lip.

“Thank you again, It was kinda embarrassing but you made me feel better.” I chew the inside of my cheek, smiling softly at his expression. He looks tired, but a big step up from earlier.

I’ve seen Lando a million times. He’s on posters, all over my feed, in my dads photo dumps, billboards, ads… But none of that can compare to the real thing.

He shoots up so fast that I’m about to laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he starts talking to someone. “Lando!” It’s my dad. Alarm bells ring in my ears as my hand goes over my mouth. Okay. He can’t see me, I know that at least. “I thought you’d already left!”

Lando laughs awkwardly, I think he’s standing in front of the car now. “Uh! Wanted to make sure everything’s good with the car. Guess I lost track of time.”

I hear my dad laugh, rummaging around, “Get some sleep, kid.” I think we’re in the clear until I hear sneakers squeaking, “You haven’t seen a girl come in here, have you?”

My heart rate skyrockets as Lando clears his throat, “Nope. But I've been pretty distracted with the car.”

“Alright well… I have someone to introduce you to tomorrow! Get some rest and drink water!” The door shuts and I hear Lando sigh heavily.

I stand up and messily get out of the car, “I thought for sure I was dead!” Lando says, running a hand through his hair and shivering, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries! I don’t want to get you in trouble though so I should go…” He nods, looking a bit disappointed.

“Want me to walk you out?” I can’t help but smile softly at the soft way he says it.

“I know my way, Thanks though.” I grab my bag, thanking god my dad didn’t see it before, “Rest up.” I mock my dad as Lando chuckles.

“With you on my mind, that’ll be difficult.” I pretend like my cheeks aren’t on fire and open the door.

“Dream about me, then.”

⋆༺

The party environment of the Mexican Grand Prix is all I needed today. I’m in a white dress with marigolds embroidered at the bottom, a flower in my hand from one of the people who are painted.

I laugh with Rebecca and Alex as we walk through the paddock, their boyfriends already getting ready for the drivers parade.

I haven’t told them about last night. I mean, what is there to tell? I swipe my lipgloss on, checking my makeup in the reflection of Rebecca’s glasses.

“Is Carlos nervous for today?” I ask her as she smiles at his name.

“I think so, but I’m really hopeful for a good result.” we continue walking, “Hopefully I don’t jinx it.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Alex nudges me, “Someone just arrived.” She winks as we all turn to look at the Paddock entrance behind us.

Lando Norris.

He’s wearing a Quadrant crewneck and a big smile. He signs something for a tiny fan and hurry’s past the photographers.

He almost walks past us, but he does a double take. He looks happy, I’m glad. “Rebecca, Alex.” He doesn’t stop walking as he politely greets them. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes, “Hey, Red.”

I smile softly before he turns and practically runs away, “Yup! He’s in love.”

I swat Rebecca’s arm as she laughs, “Goodbye!”

“No!” Alex laughs, “Come get coffee!”

I shake my head, “I told Pato I would grab breakfast with him, I’ll see you later!”

I smile at the two of them as they wave and we split up, me going to McLaren and them to Ferrari.

⋆༺

Breakfast is good, we watch the drivers go around and laugh at George who is shivering like a leaf. I say goodbye to him as soon as the drivers parade ends.

I need to see my dad before the craziness begins. “Dad!” I smile as he sits on the pit wall.

“Sweetie!” He smiles and waves me over, letting me sit with him.

“Ready for today?” I ask as he looks over data.

He nods, “Definitely!” He crosses his fingers and I smile, looking over the data with him. He knows I have no clue what we’re looking at so he explains it to me.

I lean in to look at the tiny words when my dad gets distracted, “Oh!” I hear him say but i’m trying to decipher this code still, “I have someone for you to meet!” I’ve met a million different people this week so I smile and stick out my hand like usual, “Lando! This is my daughter Y/n.”

I stare at him. His smile drops for a second, then a look of panic washes over him before he takes a breath and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I almost whisper it. He’s looking at me and I feel like I'm about to get swallowed whole.

His face contorts again, he looks like he’s finally cracked me, “Pleasure” My dad looks away and Lando takes that second to narrow his eyes, a smirk still on his face.

I drop his hand as my dad looks at us again, “I think Y/n has been avoiding the garage! I would have introduced you days ago!”

Lando’s jaw ticks, “Not a McLaren girl?”

I can’t help but smile, “Ferrari through and through.”

My dad shakes his head, “Don’t mind her odd preferences…” he’s about to say something else but gets pulled away by someone in orange.

Lando just looks at me, my cheeks hot as he examines me. I expect him to be mad, but he just smiles, “Y/n, huh?” I nod shyly, “It’s pretty. It fits you.”

“Okay! Lan you gotta go!” My dad claps a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away.

“Good luck!” I say quickly as he shoots me a devious look. I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and watch him leave.

⋆༺

The race has me on the edge of my seat for all 71 laps. I accidentally gasp way too loud at Lando being pushed off track and maybe start clapping when it’s announced that Max got two penalties.

The whole time I have a feeling that Lando will be on that podium, but definitely not in third.

My manifestation comes true when Charles goes off track and Lando zooms by.

Ten laps to go and I don’t think I've taken a deep breath in twenty. But the moment Lando passes the finish line, the garage claps and I sigh in relief.

I hug my dad but I watch the podium ceremony from the side, smiling as the boys get sprayed with champagne while laughing.

I see Rebecca with tears in her eyes and when I look back to the podium, I see Lando looking at me. He's grinning, holding his bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth before winking at me.

If he’s still acting like this after he found out my dad is his boss, then I am unexplainably screwed. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

After the podium, I walk back to the garage, but Lando catches me first, pulling me into a hidden area. He’s soaked in champagne and grinning like an idiot, “Have fun out there?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He nods, “Think i’m cool yet?”

“A bit… maybe when I watch you win.” His smile grows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Go out with me.” I laugh at his words, “For real this time! Y/n.” He says my name like a prayer and I never want it to stop.

“I guess I sort of owe you.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Y/n Brown. What a name… I knew you had an in!”

I shake my head, “I’m sorry. But it was fun messing with you.”

He sighs in defeat, “I feel much better that I know who you are. Although I almost passed out when the words ‘daughter’ left Zak’s mouth!” I laugh with him, champagne dripping down his curls still.

“You did really well today.”

He bites his lip, “Think of how much better I'll do knowing you’re screaming my name in the garage.” I swat his arm but he swerves and plants a kiss on my cheek.

My jaw drops as he pulls back, “I’ll pick you up tonight!” he starts walking away, backwards, “I’ll text you!”

“You don’t even have my number!” I yell after him but he just winks and blows me a kiss. Just as I turn back around and roll my eyes, I see my dad in front of me, arms crossed as my eyes go wide.

He sighs, looking like he already has a headache, “What the hell did I miss?”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff

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ddejavvu · 3 months ago

Note

for a Tyler request what about him and reader getting into a really bad argument and storming off and when he cools down he can’t find her and is panicking

Alive and Crazy - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Perhaps it was cruel of you to pick such a secluded hiding spot, but after all, isn't that what hiding's all about? Perhaps then the cruel part was hiding at all. But you can't shake Tyler's vicious words, "Y'know, if you don't stop trying to hold me back, maybe I should just cut myself loose."

All this over a tornado? His lifestyle is... intense. You are of the opinion that Tyler's hobby is ridiculously dangerous, and while you're slightly comforted by the safety precautions he takes (especially the drills that anchor his truck into the ground), you're less than impressed with the way he shows off and makes those precautions almost useless. Really, does he need to lean out of the window to see how long he can handle it? You'd only been trying to find some middle ground, but Tyler apparently seems to think you're trying to chain him up in the basement to prevent him from ever having any fun.

There's a secluded cabinet in the back of your laundry room that's perfect for hiding - just big enough to fit in and with an outlet for easy phone charging. You're just about to hit your two hour mark huddled in the cabinet when you hear thundering footsteps nearing your location.

"Baby? Hey, baby, y'gotta tell me where you are. Come on, baby, just wanna know you're safe. You in here?"

That's the last thing you hear before daylight spills into your dark cabinet, and your phone's screen becomes instantly duller in comparison. You glare up unimpressed at Tyler but his face crumples in relief so fast that you can barely hold the expression.

"Shit darlin'." He heaves a sigh, and any sympathy you'd felt for him instantly disappears when he has the gall to scold you next, "Do you know how damn long I've been looking for you?"

"Oh I'm sorry," You bite up at him, rage reigniting in your eyes, "Does my need for space inconvenience you?"

"No!" He nearly shrieks, but he reins himself in, "No, no, that's not- I shouldn't have said it like that. I was just worried."

"Well I'm not sure why," You turn back to your phone, but there's no concentration present as you mindlessly scroll, "I'd have expected you to be out enjoying your freedom seeing as you're cutting yourself loose."

"I'm not cutting myself loose." He vows, and it's soft instead of his typical drawl. He crouches, then makes the terrible, horrible decision to attempt to fit into the crawlspace with you.

"No- no, Tyler, you can't fit!" You squeal as he shoulders his way in, pressed flush to his body as he settles in a space half his size.

"It's fine." He grunts, but it's labored and very much not fine, "I just wanna be near you."

"I don't wanna be near you." You sneer, but you make no move to get up, "The whole reason I'm squeezed into this cabinet is because I was trying to hide from you."

"Did a damn good job, too." He admits, head slumped against the wall instead of your shoulder, "I was runnin' around for almost half an hour."

"Serves you right." You grumble, "Don't say mean shit if you want people to like you."

"I know." He reaches out and sets a hand on your knee, chaste and reassuring, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just- lost control, or something. I don't know. I've been doin' this my whole life, and when you try to tell me how to do it, it makes me feel like you don't think I can handle it myself."

"Tyler, no one can. Some of the things that you're doing-" You stop yourself short, "I'm not saying you can't have fun. I'm not saying you can't chase- er, wrangle tornadoes. I'm just saying you don't have to keep trying to outdo yourself. There has to be a limit, otherwise you'll get killed."

He's silent after your speech, perhaps mulling it over, perhaps drafting his counterargument. In the end, he tips his head from the wall to your shoulder, and murmurs close to your ear.

"Yeah. You're right. I think... I think I just don't know when to stop sometimes."

"I agree with that," You try to keep too much accusation from seeping into your tone, "But that's why I said something. I don't want you to stop, I just don't want it to stop you."

"Yeah. Alright. I understand." And he sounds like he does. He laces his fingers with yours like he does, and he cranes his neck to peck his lips against your cheek like he does.

"You're not holding me back," He promises, "What I said earlier... that was dumb. This is a partnership, not some sort of prison sentence. I love you, darlin'."

"I love you too," You sigh, leaning sideways into his embrace, "You promise no more hanging out of windows?"

"I promise I won't anymore. Can't promise nothin' for Boone."

"Boone's crazy," You laugh, "You're all crazy. I just want you alive and crazy."

"Deal." Tyler grins, holding out a pinky and letting you lock it with yours, "Alive and crazy, darlin'."

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens blurb #tyler owens drabble #glen powell x reader #twisters fanfiction

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wild-jackalope · 3 months ago

Text

summary :: Yuji decides to take his friends lack of sex life into his own hands (quite literally).

warning :: Normal AU, Yuji is extremely forward (highkey yandere), fingering, hand job, public sex, jealousy, also fighting.

note :: collage/univeristy AU. Reader and Yuji are in their second years of studying. This took way longer than what I thought it would.

“Who’re you texting?” Yuji asked.

“Nobody.” You giggled.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“This guy.” You grinned, tapping away at your phone. “He’s taking me out tonight.”

“Oh yeah, where’s he taking you?” Yuji asked, hands hidden deep in his pockets, peaking over your shoulder at the phone in your hands.

“Stop looking Yuji.” You twisted your body away from him, but he followed you.

“Come on, I should know where you’re going. What if this guy is a total jerk?”

“He won’t be,” You sigh, shaking your head. “He might even be the one.” You simply state. Though, ‘the one to take you to bed’ might’ve been a better description.

“You seriously think that?” Yuji’s tone goes limp, but his face still hangs a smile.

“You know that fancy place next to KFC? On the main road?” He nodded. “We’re going to be eating there.”

“That’s crazy, ‘cause I’m going to that KFC with Choso tonight.” He turned from your gaze. A telltale sign of fibbing that caused you to lift your brow.

“That so?” You asked, elbowing his side. He shrugged then nodded, his lips threatening to grin. “I can take care of myself, you know.” You added.

“You think so?” He jested, however the comment struck a heart string.

“Yes. Don’t you?” You carefully questioned.

He choked on your serious tone. “I, I guess. Well, maybe? You’re not super strong.”

“But I’m not a baby. I’m not helpless.”

He seemed to find that implication funny, because he laughed. “Is that why you call me when you’re scared to walk home in the dark?”

“Yuji that’s— that’s different. I’ve been talking to this guy, I know him.”

Seemingly confused by how this conversation lead to you being offended but not willing to back down he commented again. “Then why have I never heard about him?”

“You’ve never heard of him because I don’t like telling you about this stuff.” You added, softer, retracting your lips into a thin line when you saw how it made Yuji’s eyes narrow.

“Why not?” He asked, now taking offence himself.

“Because you mess things up for me.” You broke contact with his eyes, darting down to his shoes. “I don’t like being upset with you, Itadori, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He stated. You hiccuped at his harshness. "I just don't want you to waste your time on trash men."

Yuji had, without a doubt, been a stain on your dating life and by proxy, your sex life. Most commonly, he’d stall you to make you unfashionably late to a date. Other times he’d ask you to cancel them and spend time with him instead. Most recently he’d made the impression that you two were already a couple to a boy that pucked up the courage to tell you, you were cute.

It felt like you were being suffocated by his attention, and starved of other men’s.

“I need to leave soon, Yuji, let’s finish hanging out and not let this ruin our fun.”

Despite his unusual clinginess, you hated to fight with him.

“You know Itadori has the hots for you, right?” Nobara grimaced.

You laughed. “Don’t be stupid. He’s literally my bestie.”

“Just because you feel that way, doesn’t mean he does.” She warned. "Don't you see the way he clings to you? The way he hates when you hang around me or Megumi?"

"I guess. He's just like that though."

"He's like that for you, girl."

"But I feel that way about him, too. I don't love it when he spends all his time with his brother, or watching movies. I prefer when we hang out." Nobara stared at you with narrow eyes and an expression that could only be described as her trying to figure out if you were dumb, or just blissfully ignorant. Or both. "When you're super close with someone, that's just the way it is."

"Sure, girl. Sure."

To say Yuji was your friend would be an understatement. Best friend wasn’t quite right either. If there was another a higher title, it would belong to him. He was the first to call when you had some tea to spill, first to text when you didn’t know what to wear out, your go to man in an emergency.

To Yuji, the term best friend didn’t even come close to describing how he felt about you. You were his everything.

Later in the day, his phone pinged, you'd posted something. It was an image of you in a glimmering dress on your Instagram story. The hem ended just above your knees, and clung to your body like wet fabric.

The sight was utterly cloying, though his heart squeezed painfully to know you were dressed that way for a man he didn’t even know. He screenshotted the image, adding it to his photos.

What Yuji hadn't thought to consider, was the lace set hiding beneath the dress. You were hoping for the best. That was all.

Upon arriving to your date, you were greeted with an aloof ‘hello’, a small peak into how the rest of your date would continue.

Yuji hadn’t managed to convince his brother to join in stalking your date. Suggesting that he leave you to your date and that he shouldn’t get involved in your love life, citing that it’ll messy your friendship.

He promptly ignored Choso’s advice.

So, Yuji sat next door to your restaurant chewing on some hot chips with an unimpressed look on his face. He opened his photos, gazing at you in your dress. He swallowed thickly, forcing his phone down. He just wanted to be sure you were okay. That was it. He wouldn't get in the way. He'd rather see you with someone else, than be mad at him.

His churning gut seemed to disagree with that thought, though.

After being seated at a booth, you smiled kindly at your date. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” He answered curtly. You grimaced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to suggest a last minute date to a guy you’d only been texting for a day (yes, you'd lied to Yuji about know him). But God you just wanted to get laid.

“What did you get up to?”

“Nothing much.”

This was going nowhere.

It had taken an hour before you’d finally given up on making conversation. You ate, spent some minutes in the bathroom to kill time, paid and left. How embarrassing, you'd come all this way and put so much effort into how you looked only to be blown off. It made you wish you'd been kinder to Yuji.

You picked up your phone, and sent a text to him.

‘Hey, did you end up eating next door? I’m finished with my date.’

‘I did yeah. How’d it go?’ He responded.

‘Average.’

Yuji’s chest filled. He'd been blessed with a second chance and now was his moment to swoop in and cheer you up.

You sat outside, the night air whipping at your exposed skin. You hadn’t prepared for the cold. A cardigan would’ve ruined your look, after all. You assured yourself before leaving that you’d be in a warm restaurant for half the night, then be spending the rest in his or your bed. There was no need to layer up.

Yuji spotted you, calling your name before taking a seat on the bench you sat at. “Hey, how’d you go?” He beamed. His brightness felt like a layer of warmth around your skin.

“Hey Yuji.” You sighed, finding his smile contagiously reaching your lips.

“Where’s the guy? Didn’t he wait for you?” He looked over the streets, glazing over the lack of strangers around.

“Nope.”

“What an asshole.” He pat your knee, leaving his hand there as a supportive contact.

"You can say it now." You murmured into the palm of your hands.

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down. Yeah? His loss.”

“I know. I know.” You nodded, tiredly. “He’s not worth my time. I just- ugh.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly, not caring to maintain your eye makeup any longer.

“You’re really upset, aren’t you?” He asked, the hand resting on your knee clenched.

“Not for the reason you think, Yuji…” You shamefully murmured.

“So he wasn’t the one?”

“Of course not. I just… wanted to be with someone tonight.” You exhaled, letting the confession rise off your chest.

“You can be with me.” He added, a cheerful sombreness to his tone. “We’ll hang out.”

“Not like that, Yuji.” You cleared your throat. “I- uh. Never mind.”

“What?” He pressed, searching for the confession in your eyes. The hand cradling your knee edged inward to the softer side of your thigh, the movement went unnoticed by you.

“I’m- well.” You exhaled. The two of you were best friends, you could be honest with him. “I’m horny, Yuji. I haven't been able to get laid in forever because- well.” You reframed, now wasn’t the time to bring up an old argument. “I wanted to fool around with this guy.” You finished.

“We can do that too.” He cut, quickly. His hand fell further, you noticed only because it made you burn.

“What?” You shifted, but his hand still remained.

“That guy wouldn’t have gotten the job done. He was probably a loser.”

“Yuji- what did you just say?”

“If you just want to feel good, I can help.” Again his hand inched inward, now flirting with the hem of your dress. Your legs flinched open, the quick reflex tightened Yuji’s chest and his pants.

“Itadori…” You warned, though it passed your lips as a weak willed relent.

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He’d come so close now, breath patting your nape.

"We're in public." You huffed, eyeing his thick, tanned hand. His fingers cratered against your skin, kneading the flesh with a stunted hunger. He was attempting to be smooth, but he'd yearned for this too long.

"Nobody is around. Its dark. You said you're horny, didn't you? I can help. Let me help." He trailed further.

Yuji made contact to your clothed sex. His pinky finger pressed into you cautiously. You’d immediately lost all reserve. Your pussy grabbed at your brain, shoving away the regretful thoughts and forcing your legs to open wider.

With nothing but your body’s reaction to guide him, Yuji’s fingers began to rub up and down your cunt outline, focusing on the bump that was your clit.

“How does that feel?” He asked quietly.

“Weird.” You uttered, grasping at your own thighs, struggling to keep your legs open to him.

“Why?” He leaned closer.

“You’re my friend, Yuji.” You looked anywhere but at the boy.

“Why should that matter?”

You fumbled an answer. “Because friends don’t do this.”

“Some do.”

“But not us…” You drawled.

Yuji ignored you and nosed your cheek, closing in on your lips. By this point, he leaned so close that you had no room to back away.

His tongue licked your bottom lip and you grunted at the thought of it being further south. He swallowed the sound, having his free hand cradle your neck and pull you into him.

With a shameless passion, Yuji overran your mouth. His hand stunted at your pussy, his thoughts wrongly focused on your locked lips. You whined and he devoured that sound from you too.

“Yuji,” You pushed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He licked his lips, wiping away your shared saliva that lingered on the back of his sleeve. He gazed at the area covered by your dress. “Can I see?” He asked. Unsureness flashed in your gaze. "Please?"

You’d become completely obsequious to his advances. “Just for a second.” Anything to get him to start palming you again.

Yuji leaned, pulling up your dress and revealing the sight he’d only dreamed of. He moaned. You gaped, now keenly aware of your surroundings.

“Fuckin’ hot.” He murmured. The words made you gush.

Now his eyes couldn’t be ripped from your underwear, mentally taking screenshots to save for himself. He’d never need to watch porn again.

Another thought crossed his mind and his brow furrowed. He sat up, coming dangerously close to your face.

“You were going to let another guy see you like this?” His palm pressed hard against your clit. You twitched.

“You’re acting like I cheated on you, Yuji…” You wearily commented.

Shit, he’d almost ruined it.

He kissed your neck, running his tongue cross your pulse. It hadn’t completely distract you from his possessive question. “Maybe we should stop.” You whispered.

emphatically, his hand pushed past the fabric of your underwear. His index and middle finger parted around your clit, drawing this thick fingers down with your nerve bundle sandwiched between.

“Yuji!” You breathed, hands shooting to grasp his forearm.

“Shouldn’t say things if you don’t want them.” He murmured. His fingers dove to your entrance, pulling slick up and around your clit, rubbing the juices into your skin. “You want this, don’t you? Want me?”

You avoided the answer and his hand halted.

“Say you want me.” He uttered coolly.

Your hips stuttered, but Yuji didn’t budge. Holding you at orgasmic gunpoint, your lips parted. “I want you, Yuji.”

He continued with a new found passion, drawing his fingers up and down your clit with a kind pace, no longer tantalising you.

His lips pressed against your jaw and cheek until they found your mouth. He tongued you once more, loving the way you opened yourself to him and how he utterly devoured you. You couldn’t keep up with his passion.

Your legs clamped, but he pulled you open again with one hand, continuing to slide between your clit and eating the moans it ripped from you.

The orgasm hit you quickly, faltering fast through your legs and feet. You groaned into Yuji’s mouth, body going limp. His hand quickened, adding pressure to your suddenly raw clit. Your hips retracted.

“I came! I came.” You broke, tapping on his forearm. He halted, wide eyes gazing at your post-orgasm state. He wished he could’ve recorded every second of him making you cum.

You pushed against his forearm and, regretfully, he pulled his hand away from your sex. You watched with wide eyes as he brought his pruned fingers to his mouth and licked at the slick covering them.

You were too staggered to utter a word.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked.

“I, uhm, yeah.” You nodded, staring at the ground with glazed eyes. You'd just cum on the hand of your closest friend.

“Good.” He added.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension stabbed at the both of you. As if knowing your thoughts would start to circle around regret, Yuji continued to speak. “I’ll drive you back to my dorm, we can hang out now that you're done with your date.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” You spoke breathlessly.

The ride home was ear ringingly silent.

Yuji couldn't find an excuse to talk and you were too booked out with the thoughts racing your mind to respond with anything but a 'mhm.'

Nobara was right. Yuji wasn't the type to help a friend get off just because, right? He must've liked you or at the very least lusted after you. Were you okay with either of those options?

Inside his dorm room, you planted yourself on his floor, mind still wrecked. He eased next to you, finding the words to break the glass-like silence.

Worry creased his face. He came onto you too soon, too fast. "Do you want to pl-"

"So do you like me?" You asked, eyes wide with tension.

"Yeah." He grinned shyly. "Wasn't that obvious?"

Yes. It was. It fucking was. You were just as blind as a deaf bat with cataracts.

"Do you... like me too?"

"I, I don't know." You threw your head back and grunted. "Shit."

"Don't stress, it's fine."

"Not really." You couldn't stop thinking about the fact he made you cum less than an hour ago and you didn't know if you liked him? You loved him, sure, but did you love him? He was handsome, funny, good with hands apparently. "How long?" You asked.

"A while." He scratched the back of his neck. "A long while, actually."

You were surely going to hell. Here your friend was, spilling his heart out to you and all you could think about was having his hands touch more of you. You couldn't help but eye his crotch, was he still hard from before? You couldn't tell.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. Your eyes darted to his face.

"Well," You fiddled with your index finger. "You never got off, so I feel bad."

His cheeks flushed. "Me? No, that's fine. We should talk. Don't worry about that."

"Okay," Your hand slipped to his hip, resting on his side. "Keep talking, then." Hell for sure.

"Well I, uh, I always thought you were pretty," Your fingers skimmed over the elastic of his pants. "And hot." He added, eyes lidding.

"Does anyone else know?" You asked.

"Probably." He sucked in through his teeth as your hand began to retreat. "I mean, Fushiguro is pretty perceptive. I think Choso knows too."

You traced his v-line with your fingernail. He'd already gone hard.

"kugisaki, probably. Are you-?"

"Just keep talking. I'm listening."

"I… I realised maybe a year ago." You slipped a finger under his pants. "You started dating. I hated it. I thought I'd get over it but-" You raked through his pubes, inching closer to his shaft. He exhaled steadily. "I heard you started having sex. I tried to butt in whenever I could after that."

"Jealous." You stated, finally sliding over his dick.

"Big time." He attempted to steady himself again, hands clenching into white fists. "Was it good with them? The sex?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Yuji."

"Fuck. Sorry." He exhaled. "We got super close, I just, needed more of you."

You gripped him and he rutted into your hand.

"Love you a lot." He huffed. You gripped him harder. "F-Fuck."

He fucked your hand carefully. Scared that if he did it too fast or hard, you'd let go and leave him. You joined in the motion, spreading the pre from his head over his shaft and pumping him.

He'd gone wordless, mouth hanging open whilst uttering gasping grunts. His eyes rolled to you, deep brown's watching you.

"Stop staring..." You muffled, hand covering your face.

"You're so beautiful." He grunts. "Kiss me."

You do, and just like before he pashes you with greedy intent. You pull away before he can kiss you too deeply, he follows you, grunting against your parting lips.

"Feel good?" You ask.

"Feels amazing, baby. A little faster, please." He bucks his hips again until you comply, stroking him quicker. "Perfect, that's perfect." His grunts become breathy, turning into weak moans.

You've never seen Yuji like this before, the only comparison being him puffed after working out too hard. But this, you've never seen. You loved every twitch of his body and every noise spurting from his mouth.

You rubbed your index finger over his head and his hand grabbed at your thigh, squeezing you hard. "Fuck." He cursed.

Tortuously, you began to focus on rubbing up and down his tip. His breaths became rapid, chest rising and falling ridiculously fast.

"Fuck baby, don't stop."

You mewled at pain his tight grip caused you and his dick twitched. You leaned against his shoulder pressing your face to his neck. "Love you, Yuji."

Those words sent him over the edge. He cursed again, louder than before and you knew by the way he squeezed your thigh it would bruise tomorrow. You felt hot spurts of semen leak onto your fingers as you let him fuck your hand until his orgasm passed and his loud curses settled into fucked out whimpers. He'd gone limp now, panting.

You let go of him, causing Yuji to utter another weak groan. Pulling your hand out, you gazed at his cum coating your skin.

He watched you bring it up to your mouth and lick some with the end of your tongue. He was suddenly hard all over again. He grunted at the arousal.

Salty, you thought.

"Let's date." He stated, still breathy. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. "I don't have to be your boyfriend, not yet. We'll just go out. On dates."

"Yuji,"

"You could stay over more often, we could watch movies, cuddle." His eyes slipped over your cum covered hand. "We could do this more. You don't have to love me right away, but at least give us a shot. I-"

"Yuji, shush," You sighed, grinning. You laid against the floor, somewhat breathless yourself. "Let's date." You nodded.

He pumped a fist in the air, quietly uttering a victory. You laughed. "You're going to wish you fell for me sooner, I promise. You'll see what a good boyfriend I can be."

"So you are my boyfriend now?" You jested, raising a suspicious look at him.

"I will be." He stated. "You'll see."

#yuji itadori #Yuji x reader #itadori x reader #Yuji itadori x reader #Jjk #Jjk x reader #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #yuji x you #yuji x y/n #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen

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peachesofteal · 4 months ago

Text

Dead Disco - Epilogue

Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.

You’re having trouble breathing.

It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces.

It’s terrifying. You’re terrified.

“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.”

“Okay… why are we hiding?”

“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head.

“You have to. You’re the artist.”

“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.”

“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art.

“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically.

“You have to.”

It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps.

As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.

People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery.

At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years.

It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional.

It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull. Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes.

There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense.

“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?”

Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name.

Darling.

“It’s a love story.”

The bar stool is one of the spinning ones.

You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk.

“You’re literally no fun.”

“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?”

“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet.

“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?”

How do you feel.

“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.”

“You sold a lot of paintings.”

“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum.

A wild dream turned reality.

“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.”

“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool.

“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft.

“I know.”

“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been.

Like she was, so reverently, by them.

You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest. But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave.

She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them.

Usually.

“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders-

And a mohawk.

Your heart trips over itself.

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels.

You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears.

They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere.

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them.

Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him.

“Hi.” You breathe.

“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile.

Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.

“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod.

“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another.

“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first.

“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.”

“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even.

You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.

“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?”

“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there.

“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods.

“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“See ye soon, then.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

#dead disco #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 10 months ago

Text

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, sloppy oral, biting/marking, rough sex. bad german pickup lines)

continuing the part before: visiting his humble abode

Hanging off König’s shoulder.

There honestly isn’t a better place to be, except for maybe right under him. My fingers dig into his back, holding onto him, even though I am secure on his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs easily, I don’t even hear him panting a little harder. And the view on his ass is delicious. I want to pinch it. Or smack it.

My intrusive thoughts win, I stretch down and the palm of my hand collides with his behind, even making a little sound, while I giggle.

“Stop it.” Another spank onto my butt, his hand staying there this time. “It was my plan to show you the whole house first, and then take you to my bedroom…”, he grumbles, but amusement comes through in his voice. “But I should’ve known that you and your bratty ass are not gonna adhere to such an arrangement.” He squeezes my asscheek, his fingers lingering a bit longer, and even that sends a shiver down my spine.

“I just wanted to know if the king had a king-sized bed, I swear.”, I joke, stifling back a laugh.

“Aha.”, he drawls skeptically. “And that’s all?”

“Yep.”, I answer, knowing full well that I know and he knows, that that is in fact not all.

It’s just a few steps from the top of the stairs to the bedroom, when I hear the click of a door and then the light switch. He enters the room and I crane my neck, all nosily, trying to look around. The bedframe, sturdy dark wood, and some bedsheets is all I see before he lifts me from his shoulder again.

“Well, your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he says, the last word sounding a lot like ‘princess’. “I do indeed have a king-sized bed.”

He sets me down on the mattress, lying me down more carefully than I would have liked, to be honest. I look up – and I’m staring back at myself, strewn on the soft sheets. My mouth falls open.

“You have a mirror on your ceiling?”, I ask incredulously. It’s an unnecessary question because – well, I can see that he does have a fucking mirror on the ceiling.

“I do.” He smiles, looking up as well. “You can cover it up, if you don’t wanna watch yourself sleep, but I thought it would be fun for other horizontal activities that don’t involve any actual sleep.”

My breath halts in my throat as I think about his insinuation and unholy images flood my mind. Me riding him, only held up by his arms, while he makes me look up, his hand around my throat. His body strewn over mine, the long strands of his hair cascading down his tattooed back, his huge stature moving with his thrusts. Him sitting back on his knees, spreading my legs wide, so I can see how he’s pounding into me in the mirror above.

“What, nothing to say now, Kleine?” His deep soft voice pulls me out of my little daydream, smirking down at me. And I just shake my head. “Didn’t think I would ever see you speechless.”, he continues teasing me.

I sit back up, looking up at him, which has me craning my head back with the way he is towering over me. “I’m not, look, full sentences are coming out my mouth.”

He smirks at me. “I can see that.” He comes a bit closer still, his hand gripping my chin softly, his thumb strokes over my lower lip, pulling it down a little bit. “So, it’s not just good for mouthing off at me, huh?”

Instead of an answer, my tongue darts out, licking the pad of his thumb. My mouth closing around it, softly sucking once, releasing the digit with a pop. “No.” All the messages I sent him this morning about wanting to suck his dick flood the forefront of my mind.

His gaze darkens, while the smirk widens. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, then we move even faster. He pulls off his shirt and I do the same, also getting rid of my bra. He helps me with my pants, and when they’re finally on the floor, his hand moves to his belt, opening it, but I softly coax them away, taking over, while I scramble to sit on my legs until I am kneeling in front of him.

Opening the button, lowering the zipper. And instead of the boxershorts I expected, like the ones I saw on the photos he sent this morning – I’m greeted by his hard dick.

Damn. He isn’t wearing any underwear.

I look up at him, being met with a cocky grin.

“Allzeit bereit.”, he comments.

“What?” I can’t hide my confusion.

“’Be prepared’, the scout motto, you know.”, he explains, like that is some common knowledge.

“Uh-huh? So, you’re always prepared for a blowjob?”, I ask him, tauntingly, pulling up one eyebrow. My hands still rest at his zipper, my fingers twitching to finally touch him.

“Well, no, but after all the talking about how you would take me in your mouth this morning...”, he answers, the cockiness not faltering.

“Then why are we still talking about the scout motto, big guy?”, I ask him, a little challenge in my voice.

His reaction is a little sway forward, until the tip rests against my mouth. “Are we?”, he asks, the insinuation sending a shiver down my spine.

His piercing drags across my lower lip and my tongue darts out to lick it. The groan dropping from his throat, the low gravelly sound, makes me do it again. Teasing his tip, until his hips are rutting forward on their own and I drop my jaw, slowly trying to fit more of him into my mouth. I close my lips around his thickness, softly sucking on him.

Pulling back again. Gripping the base of his cock with my hand as I press kisses on it, softer than he probably would have liked. He’s squirming a little bit under my touches, his fingers coasting through my hair, moving it out of my face.

I look up at him meeting his eyes, continuing the teasing touches, until he pushes himself inside my hot wet mouth again.

“Look up.”, he says, pointing at the ceiling. And my eyes turn up further, my neck straining back.

The picture mirrored back to me is pornographic, to say the least.

We’re both looking up at the ceiling, my face turned up, my back and ass fully on display, my legs tucked under it, with the way I’m sitting in front of him. His hand at the back of my neck.

König’s broad chest is taking up so much space, even as he’s leaning back to get a good look at me. The happy trail leading down. My hand lying there, feeling the soft tufts of hair underneath my fingertips.

Our bodies connected with my mouth around his dick.

I suck on him, licking the underside of his shaft, while still looking up, and I can see how his eyes roll back, his pupils disappear, only the whites of his eyes shining.

I move my hand down to his base, cupping his balls, softly tugging. The choked moan from his lips only spurs me on. He grabs me by the back of my head, softly moving me to the rhythm of his hips.

“You teased me all day about using your mouth on me, so I’m really enjoying this right now.”, he whispers, pushing his dick deeper, and I drop my jaw and stick out my tongue to fit more of him.

He hits the back of my throat which has me gag around him while he’s still not nearly fitting into my mouth, not even close. The next push of his dick is even deeper, and my eyes turn up, and I feel like I’m going cross-eyed. I move up and down, as far as I can, blowing him like this. It gets sloppy, messy, spit dripping from my lips. Dropping down onto my tits and tummy.

Tears form in the corners of my eyes, a drop running over my cheek. His hand moves from the back of my head to my face, his thumb stroking over it. “So fucking pretty.”, he coos. He pulls back and I take a deep breath, the sound filling the room instead of my gagging.

But I don’t stop. I use my saliva that’s now coating part of his length to jerk him off, moving my hand down, while I let my tongue play with the piercing on his tip again. Tasting hints of salty precum, as I look up at him. Holding eyecontact while I drag my tongue over it, slowly.

“Oh fuck.”, he almost growls, and the sound sends a zap of pleasure right to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. I feel the urge to touch myself, my hand snaking down between my thighs.

He sees that and tuts, the clicks of his tongue filling the room. “So needy.”, he mutters softly, his hips rutting forward, pushing past my lips again. Fucking into my mouth, as my fingertips reach my clothed pussy, pressing onto my sensitive clit.

I moan around his dick, letting him take the lead, his fingers tangled in my hair, while I touch myself, my hips moving with my desperate strokes. Getting sloppier again.

All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me. “Fuck, not yet.”, he says, seeming a bit worked up. Crouching down and capturing my lips into a searing kiss, as he positions me against his sheets, continuing the kisses down my body.

I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, hard and heavy, glistening wet with my spit, before he kneels in front of me. His fingers hook under the fabric of my panties, pulling them off. They cling onto me, with how damp they are.

“So wet, hm? Did it turn you on to suck me off?”, he whispers, seeing the wetness glistening between my thighs, as he leans down, coasting with his lips over my pussy.

“Yes, fuck.”, I breathe, trying to squirm against his face, but he is just out of reach. He chuckles when I whine, desperate for him to finally put his mouth onto me. And he does, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin.

Close, so close, but not quite where I want him.

He sucks on the soft skin, leaving little red marks, his left hand toying with my pussy. My hips move of their own volition and I can’t believe how the almost-touches make me even more turned on. “Please, I need-“, I start.

I can’t finish the sentence because his teeth sink into my soft flesh, while his fingers slip into me, the sensations almost making me lose my mind. He pushes deeper inside me, and I feel his canines press into the sensitive skin. Fuck, this is driving me crazy.

I lift my head to look at what he’s doing, and our eyes meet. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to the spot he just bit into, licking over it. His fingers still fucking me softly.

“Don’t stop.”, I plead.

The corners of his mouth turn up into a knowing smirk while he places more kisses, slowly inching in on my pussy, leaving another little hickey on my inner thigh. He pulls the digits out and puts his mouth right over it.

The slow, deliberate touches are gone. In a frenzy, he’s losing himself in my pussy, licking, sucking, nudging his nose against my clit. I move with him, dragging myself over his lips, searching for more friction, and the sounds that drop from my mouth are almost obscene.

My head drops back and I have the whole scene mirrored back to me from above. The strands of his long dark hair cascading down. His back tattoo, the black ink on his taut muscles, moving with him, as he eats me out.

How he grips my thighs, his hands digging into the supple swells. Spreading me wide for him.

He looks up at me, seeing the awe on my face, hearing the sounds I’m making, which makes him hum against me. Diving in again. His tongue licks into me, fucking me, and my back arches off the sheets, my hands clutching them. Close, so close to-

Ding-dong!

We’re interrupted by the bell.

He lifts his head, seeming a little drunk on pussy, judging by the drowsy look on his face. “Fuck, that’s the delivery.”, he stammers and the back of his hand wipes over his mouth.

“What delivery?”, I ask, confused and hazy with pleasure, propping my head up from the sheets.

“Food.”, he explains, and like on cue, my stomach grumbles.

He pulls away from me, looking around, picking up random pieces of clothing. He scrambles to put a shirt and shorts on while I can’t help but laugh because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thats on you, Mädl, for messing with my meticulously planned evening, with your siren call.”, he grumbles, which only makes me laugh harder.

He fits his dick into his pants, the erection tenting up the front, and he grumpily pulls his shirt down further, even though that doesn’t really help either with hiding it. “Fuck it.”, he cusses and heads out the room, cursing some more in German.

I shake my head, grinning like a crazy person.

I also look for some clothes, but I’m not quite bold enough to reach for any of his shirts, putting on my own and then my panties, following him down the stairs.

“Ooh, you remembered my favourite spot!”, I say when I see the huge bag with the familiar logo on it in his hands.

He grins at me, and my god, a man has never looked that good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt and some old Adidas shorts that are almost too tight for his burly thighs. He pushes his hair to the side, pulling it out of the t-shirt, because some of it got caught in there when he hurriedly put it on. “Of course. Should I put it in the kitchen oooor…?”, he asks.

“Can we eat now? I’m actually a little hungry, I didn’t have a big lunch.”, I tell him hesitatingly. Swaying from one bare foot to the other, looking down at them. Unsure, because I mean, we were in the middle of-

But he pushes my doubts away in just a moment, putting his arm around me and pressing a tiny kiss onto the top of my head. “Sure, can’t have you go hungry, hm?” and the relief lets my shoulders drop down, even if my worries were a bit stupid to begin with.

“You want to eat at the bar?”, he suggests then, his eyebrows raised as he grins at me.

“Wha- You have a bar in this house?”, I clarify.

He nods. “Yeah, like a whole room with- Come on. I’ll just show you.” He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, as he pulls me with him, the bag full of take-away food in the other one. Way too much for two people.

When I follow him downstairs, it first dawns on me that we never really held hands before. It seems so simple, so normal – so natural, that I don’t even register it at first. I smile to myself, gripping his hand tighter, trying to keep up with his steps.

I have to say, the house is meticulously upkept, there’s yet a spot I have to see untidy or dusty. Which is… kind of amazing, especially considering that he only stays here on his leave. The same goes for his cellar that is more like another floor, where we halt in front of two doors. He gestures in the direction of the right one, while actually stepping towards the one on the left. “That’s my home gym and that’s the bar.”, he says.

“You… also… have a gym?”, I ask, a bit incredulous. Man, this house is bigger than I thought, when I first saw it from the outside.

“Yeah, I mean I train almost every day. Uh, holding up my shape doesn’t get easier with age.”, he explains, with a lopsided smile. Of course he works out. I’ve seen his body and my god. Sure, he has his little tummy – that I adore –, but his strength clearly comes from a lot of hard training. It makes sense that he also keeps this up when on leave.

“Can I take a look?”, I ask, being my nosy self.

He shrugs, but smiles. “Sure.”

For a moment, I regret asking that, because I have to let his hand go. I sigh and pop my head in the door. Nice standard equipment, not a lot of machines. A treadmill, and a lot of weights, barbells and dumbbells. It looks any other gym would, right down to the mirrors spanning the whole wall (he seems to like those); you would have never guessed it was a private one in a cellar.

The star of the show is definitely the little bar next door. I enter the room right after him, chuckling a bit to myself when I see him ducking his head to fit through doorframe – even in his own home.

A worn-out leather couch to the left. The dark grey painted wall behind it is littered with plaques like you would find in a pub.

A pool table at the right side of the room, and then the mahogany bar on the back wall right in the middle. Bottles of liquor in rows, glasses in all shapes and sizes. When he flicks the light switch behind the bar, all of it lights up, in a warm orange hue.

Another fridge, with a glass door, though it’s half empty.

Three bar stools lined up neatly in front of the bar and I take a seat on one of them, feeling the leather top against my bare ass and thighs, with how my t-shirt rides up.

He sets the take-away bag down on the counter, getting two plates from one of the lower cabinets and two forks. Then he starts unpacking, producing container after container until I think there might be more people joining us, with how much he ordered.

“Take whatever you want, I’ll eat the rest.”, he tells me, waiting for me to actually do that.

“Is uh-“, I start, but he interrupts me with a smile. “Everything’s vegetarian, Liebes.”, he nods. “I checked. Twice.”

My face lights up and I look at the containers, inspect the different dishes and put a little bit of everything on my plate. With a double portion of the little spring rolls I like so much. He waits until I’m done getting my plate together and then just dumps one of the meals onto his.

I watch him eat, as he’s leaning against the counter, shoveling huge amounts of food in his mouth, while being very meticulous and methodical about it. Eating efficiently. This man eats to sustain, not to enjoy. There are parts of him, that I think are shaped by his profession, and this seems to be one of them.

I hide the half-smile that stalks onto my face as I see him standing there behind the bar, casually wolfing down the first plate of food, then a second one. I rope him into a conversation of how he put the room together while we have dinner like this. My feet dangle above the ground as I eat spoonsful of delicious Asian take-away, very content with sitting here like this. With him.

He looks back at the wall behind him, like an idea just came to his mind, and then back at me. I pull up one of my eyebrows, still munching on a spring roll.

“You want a cocktail?”, he asks me, grinning.

“Uh, sure, you know how to make one?”, I return the question.

“Äh, ja-ah! If I wasn’t a soldier, I would’ve become a bartender, for sure.”, he jokingly states, winking at me, and I almost melt into the floor. “I can make a decent enough drink.”, he then clarifies, the spark in his eyes still a little mischievous. “So, what do you want then? A moscow mule? Or a dirty martini?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Or an orgasm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't help but laugh, even though I roll my eyes at him.

"Brute.”, I take a jab at him. “My favourite is actually a gin fizz.", I say, then.

"Really? I did not see that coming.", he comments.

"Why?"

"I don't know, maybe I expected something sweet tasting. Like you." His gaze darkens, while he is still grinning at me. A sudden hunger glints in his eyes while he looks at me, like he's thinking about it. How he ate me out when we got so rudely interrupted, by the delivery – even though it was delicious.

A tingle runs up my spine, just from the way he's looking at me. I suppress a shiver, because the feeling doesn't dissipate when his eyes drop away, looking around the bar.

"Hmm, I think I have a fresh lemon here somewhere.", he mutters to himself.

I prop my cheek on my arm, that’s leaning on the bar, and watch him fix me the drink.

He takes a crystal tumbler from the shelves and inspects some of the bottles, until he decides on one. I don't know the brand, but it certainly looks fancy. Ice cubes into the shaker, simple sirup and gin following shortly.

He’s almost dancing behind the bar counter, with the way he’s getting the ingredients, preparing this rather simple drink.

He cuts the lemon in half and just squeezes it, the juice dripping down into the shaker. Another person might have used a citrus-press. Not him though.

His hair whipping back and forth as he turns around, putting the top on the shaker and hitting the top once. A little spank that I feel…somewhere else… for reasons.

He starts to shake the cocktail, and it’s ridiculous how small the shaker is in his huge hands, he doesn’t even need both to hold it shut. Watching my reaction as he flips and spins it between his fingers, the ridiculous movements pulling laughs from me. Repeating the ones that do. The huge burly man, being the scary looking dude he is, while at the same time not being scary at all. At least not to me. When he’s here with me, like this.

He pours the drink over the ice cubes and fills the rest of the glass with soda, just like the recipe calls for. Taking the little zest of lemon he saved, squeezing it once and then putting it in.

König takes a sip, trying it. ‘Not bad’ is what the grimace on his face tells me before he hands me the tumbler and I take a drink. The bitter notes of gin and the sour sting of lemon juice hit my tongue.

“Nice drink, barkeep.”, I say, taking another sip and put the drink down in front of him. He drinks as well, downing at least half with one single gulp.

“Sind Sie eigentlich öfter hier?”, he asks me, with a sultry smile, not seeming serious at all.

“What does that mean? Funny man, I don’t speak your language.”, I tell him.

He laughs. “It’s flirtingly asking somebody if they come here often. It became a running gag in German as a bad pickup line.”

"Really? And that works?", I ask, skeptically pulling an eyebrow up.

He shrugs, leans forward, against the bar, coming closer and closer, until his face is just inches from mine. "No, it doesn't, but if I see a beautiful woman, I have to try it nonetheless.", he almost purrs. His fucking voice deeper than I ever heard it before. With the way he's looking at me, pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, he pulls me in.

His fingers softly stroke over the inside of my arm, until the thumb reaches my pulsepoint, the pad pressing into it lightly – just once – before he pulls it closer and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin. His eyes don’t break away from mine for even a moment.

My mouth falls open. My breath is getting caught in my throat and I can feel a pang of need between my thighs, the tingling feeling trickling up my spine.

He straightens back up again, just a little bit, beaming at me with a cocky grin. "See, and that works every time.", he taunts me.

"Well, I'll say.", I answer, still a little out of breath, which makes him laugh, but also come closer again.

"Yeah?", he asks softly. "You think, I can get a kiss from the beautiful woman at the bar like this?"

I nod, lifting myself off the barstool, to meet his lips in a kiss. “Maybe also a second kiss.”, I say, deepening it. My tongue strokes against his, teasing, and tasting the gin on his breath.

"Will the barkeeper also take the beautiful woman to his king size bed?", I ask him, which might be considered bold, if it was indeed a beautiful woman propositioning the barkeeper at the bar who had been flirting with her all evening. But it's just König and me, sitting here together in comfy clothes after we shared a meal. And I'm eager to finish what we started before.

"Hmmm, they are the only two left in the bar, so the barkeeper might just close it up to bend the beautiful woman over the bar and take her right here and now.", he spins my little story further.

"Well, that would be entirely possible, if they had some protection.", I retort, but the imagination alone is making me hot.

A little square foil packet suddenly appears in his hand, almost like out of thin air – more likely from his pocket. "Didn't tell you, I'm not only a barkeeper, but also a magician?", he says, a grin breaking through his expression, even if he tries to stay serious.

I have to laugh so hard I almost fall off the barstool, with the way my body is shaking from laughter ripping through me.

This man. It's quite unfair, to pair his dry wit with those good looks. I mean, it might not be to everybody's taste, but in my book tall, dark and brooding always works – though in his case, the notion of that much rather stems from the way he looks, not the way he is – and him being hilarious like this, especially when I don’t see it coming, definitely has me on my tiptoes.

“A man of many talents, I see.”, I tease him.

“Don’t you know it.”, he says, capturing my smile in a kiss again, barely breaking it to join me on my side of the bar.

I'm practically bent over the bar already, with the way my ass barely touches the seat and I was leaning over to kiss him, trying to get as close to him as possible. He just has to lift my hips a little bit, until I'm truly strewn over the smooth wooden surface.

He doesn't hesitate to pull my panties down, the wet fabric clinging onto me. It doesn’t take much, I’m so wound tight already, because we got interrupted. His fingers coast over the sensitive skin, and I squirm against his touch, holding onto the bar.

"Please, just- do me.", I beg, not minding how desperate that makes me sound.

"Your wish is my command.", he repeats his little quip from earlier this evening. He pulls the shorts down just low enough to take his dick out, the length resting against my ass, and I can't resist moving my hips a little bit, grinding back into him.

"Stop it.", he grumbles, spanking my buttcheek once, with the other hand. "Impatient brat.", he calls me which pulls a little chuckle from my lips.

The ripping of the foil, the snap of rubber, and then his dick nudges against me, dipping into me – just the tip. Fuck, I just want him inside me. He pulls back and repeats the motion a few times, until he finally sinks into me. Giving me a few moments to adjust myself to his length, his hands squeezing my tight ass, before he starts to pound into me.

Harder than last time he fucked me from behind because he isn’t limited by the tight space of his car’s backseat.

“Yes, yes, fuck.”, I whine, the little pleas intermingling with the resounding claps of skin against skin. The whole bar is shaking, the sturdy wood holding out against his hard thrusts.

His hands let go of my ass, his arms framing my body, holding onto the bartop. Using it as leverage to fuck me a tiny bit rougher. And I take everything he’s giving me, relishing the feeling of losing myself in the hard fucking.

Over 300 pounds pushing me up against the furniture, his dick pushing deep inside me. The tip slamming against my cervix, which is making me lose my mind fast.

Groans and mewls drop from my lips with every push into me, the sounds getting louder when he hits that sensitive spot inside me. I almost wanna bite my lip, but I know better than that by now. I know he wants to hear me.

Suddenly, he pulls himself out of me, and for a split second, I'm confused. But instead, his fingers slip into me, the sensations getting rid of my thoughts.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked.", he groans, his digits working in and out of me, the wet sounds almost obscene. The whines dropping from my lips as they stroke over the sensitive spot inside, the same one that his dick was flitting over just moments ago.

"Oh, fuck.", I moan, the intense stimulation making me shake, desperately holding onto the hard surface beneath me, as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out again, and I whimper because of the sudden loss of fullness. He bends forward, his hands spreading my cheeks, while he laps up the wetness. The hurried licks of his tongue against the sensitive skin prolonging my orgasm, making me shiver.

He straightens back up and lifts me from the bar and just flips me around, setting me down on the wood again, so that I face him. The expression on his face, the hooded lids, the drowsiness in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, his lips glistening of my juices, … Yeah, no man ever has looked this good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt.

My arms reach back, propping myself up on the bar, and my legs spread in an instant, inviting him in. His eyes drop down to my pussy, dripping and still needy. He positions himself, gripping his rubbered-up dick at the base, dragging it over my clit, teasing my entrance with his tip. Driving us both crazy, I can see it on his face.

"Fuck, please...", I whine, my hips bucking up against him.

With a chuckle, he's slipping into my wetness again, easily. Stretching me around his dick and I groan when he bottoms me out, being a little overstimulated already.

He's fucking me in this position, hard just like before, my hips almost at the perfect height, because a normal table would have never been tall enough. I scramble to even hold on, my hands gripping his shoulders now instead of the surface beneath me, trying to not get shaken off it, but he holds me firm in his grasp, holding me steadfast, so his hard fucking doesn’t push me off.

"I'm not gonna make it for much longer.", he grunts quietly, almost like an apology. “’m close, fuck. Gonna come." A deep breath shakes his chest.

My hand extends to cup his face, and even though he seems almost lost in his search for release, he nearly stills.

"Do it. Come for me.", I whisper, my lips coasting against his.

The sound that escapes his throat is a desperate one, and he pulls me tighter against him. One arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, the fingertips digging into the supple swell. My fingers stroke through his hair, the soft strands, and I press my lips to his.

And he kisses me with a frenzy, until I feel his spine stiffen up and a short deep moan against my lips.

He shudders, his whole body shaking, as he spills inside me, his hips still rutting forward, and for a moment I wish, the condom between us wasn't there. Some creampie for dessert.

"Fuck...", he breathes, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, his orgasm finally subsiding. “You okay?”

I nod, a faint ‘yes’ in my lips, and I slump against him, holding onto his waist, breathing heavily. Relishing the embrace, as he pulls me even closer with his strong arms. I breathe in his warm comforting scent, the fabric of the shirt rough against my cheek, as I nuzzle into him.

“I believe there is integral part of my home which you haven’t seen yet.”, he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of my face.

“Really?”, I ask, resting against his huge sweaty chest, my hands still tangled in his t-shirt.

Instead of answering, he lifts me off the surface, my legs closing around his waist. My panties are somewhere, but not covering my pussy that is sitting against his hips. But he doesn’t seem to care that I'm staining his shirt with my wetness. I mean, getting pussy juice on a Cannibal Corpse shirt has to be an achievement on its own, right? I giggle to myself, as he carries me up to his bathroom.

The shower indeed seems spacious enough for him to kneel down – contrary to the one in my apartment.

His hands lather up some soap and start to move over my body, the warmth of his fingers coasting over me. Softly cleaning me and washing away the suds. Refusing to let me do the same for him.

He gets down on his knees, lowering himself even further to the floor, to be right where he wants to be. At eye-level with my pussy. He lifts my left leg, placing it over his shoulder, and presses his face between my thighs. Licking and sucking eagerly.

The spray of water from above hits his hair as well, wetting and darkening the long strands, while my fingers tangle in them, my other hand looking for somewhere to hold onto. The cool tiles press into my back, while the water raining down on us and his huge warm body heat me up. My screams echo off the walls as he makes me come on his tongue, my legs almost giving out while his arms hold me up, not stopping until I’m spent.

We get out of the shower after having been in there for way too long, wasting water standing under the spray. He hands me a bathtowel and I wrap myself in it, just standing there. Watching him dry himself off. He’s quick and methodical about it, the soft fabric stroking over his wet skin, soaking up everything.

He hangs up his towel, and I try not to stare at his naked tattooed body. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before. Also, his dick has just been inside me, but I still can’t help it. I can’t tear my eyes off of him.

“What?”, he asks, as he sees me staring.

“Nothing, just looking at you.”, I say, pulling the towel tighter around me, cocooning myself up.

He comes closer. “Looking comfy.”, he comments, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“I am.”, I answer, and his arms close around me, pressing me against his broad naked chest.

“Stay the night?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Me all huddled up in the huge bathtowel can only nod and grin up at him.

next part: waking up in his bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: a special long chapter for the start of the weekend... i hope you guys had as much fun reading it, as i had writing it, gonna go take a cold shower now 🫠

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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dontopenfairies · 1 month ago

Text

“Wait a second,” she says, taking her hand off the car door handle. “I have to go pee.” She shifts in her seat, pulling her knees up so that her feet are resting at the edge of her seat and her skirt is slipping down her thighs.

“You aren’t going to…” he says. “Maira, I get that you like wearing them, but you don’t have to actually *use* them! It’s disgusting!”

“Uh-huh,” says Maira. She chews on one her fingers absentmindedly as her diaper swells. “Mmm,” she says. “Feels good.”

“It’s a good thing it’s dark outside and no one can see you in here! Well, I can, but not other people. People who’d make fun of me for hanging out with someone who wets *diapers*!”

“You’re so funny,” she says, putting her feet down on the floor and sitting back up, pulling her skirt down around her thighs. “Because you say that you think it’s gross, but I know it makes you hard.”

He grabs the hem of his sweater and yanks it down.

“Don’t try to hide it, I already saw your pants tenting up.” She crawls over the center console to him. “Let me see…” She gently pulls back the hem of his sweater. “Actually, let’s just take this off,” she says, pulling his sweater over his head. For a second his shirt comes with it, flashing his belly and the tops of his narrow hips before falling back down. “Ooh, I liked that,” she says, dropping his sweater at his feet.

“And I bet you’d like this,” she continues, crawling back over to her seat, where she kneels, pulling up her skirt to show him her diaper. He looks away. “I still think I have a little pee left in me,” she says loudly. “Ohh…I’m really close to going pee again. Ohh, I’m trying to hold it but it really hurts…ouch! Oh no, it’s coming out! Oh no!!” Her voice goes quiet, and he can hear the loud hiss of pee hitting the sagging diaper.

“Aww, you’re even harder now, aren’t you? Is it throbbing? Does it hurt? Aw, I can see it twitching. Is this what turns you on?”

He keeps looking out the window, even though he can’t see anything in the dark.

“I asked you a question. Is this what turns you on? Is watching girls piss in diapers what turns you on?”

He doesn’t answer, but he does turn his head slightly to glance at her. Of course his eyes go immediately to the diaper, now yellow and swollen.

“I saw you looking. You little pervert. Hey, look at me.” She reaches out and pulls his chin around. She leans down to kiss him on the mouth. “See, you called me disgusting but I felt how eager you are in that kiss. You little slut.” She hisses the last word, eyes narrowing.

He wants to say something, to argue with her, but his brain and his mouth have stopped communicating. Her hair is falling on his shoulders. Her soft hair is falling on his shoulders. All he can see is her face.

“I bet you’re jealous, that’s what it is, isn’t it? I bet you wish you had a diaper, too,” she hiss-whispers.

He shakes his head.

“I bet you’d make a good little diaper *slut*. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To get a soft, secure diaper around your hips?”

He doesn’t move.

“You can argue with me, honey, but you’ve been humping my hand for the past minute. You’re sooo cute like this.” She leans down and kisses him again, and he grabs the back of her shirt, trying to pull her in closer, panting as she pulls away.

“You’re so eager,” she laughs. “Do you want to see my boobs?” She reaches up and pulls off her shirt, and then unclasps her bra. She leans back over him, hands on either side of him on the seat, and he gasps, feeling something wet and warm in his pants. “Ohh, baby, you didn’t just finish, did you?”

She goes back to her side and picks her shirt up off the ground, pulling it on over her head. “Have you never seen a girl’s chest before? You couldn’t handle even that?”

Then she leans over and whispers in his ear. “Or did watching me piss myself really just turn you on *that* much? How about me teasing you for being a little diaper slut? I know you want them, and I know you want to see me in them. Maybe if you eat me out real good, I’ll let you come over to my house and you can try one. Does that sound good, baby? Huh?”

#omutsu #oc #prejac #omutsu oc #diapered girlfriend story

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tulip-room · 3 months ago

Text

: ̗̀➛Is That All?☄. *. ⋆

"If you're going to pull it, at least do it right."

words. 1.8k of pure filth

warnings. fem reader, love and pretty girl as pet names, p in v, probably too much foreplay, uprotected (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, edging, a hint of dacryphilia, HAIR PULLING, maybe more- this is pure filth.

minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni. You are being warned right now that this is not for you. Do not interact. I will block you. Do NOT proceed. smut under the cut.

Geto was always quick to get what he wanted. I mean it was so easy, you hardly put up a fight. Why would you? That’s how you get into situations like these.

The girls were over at a friend’s house for a sleepover, and you had been oh so sweet today. You with your little apron tied around your waist, you bending over the counter to wipe it off from a baking mishap earlier that day. That’s when he struck. He pressed his hips to your ass and grabbed hold of your waist. A small yelp leaves your lips. “Sugu- “you start but are quickly shushed.

“Be quiet, you just looked so divine today. Couldn’t help myself.” He leans over so his front is flush with your back, you can hear him growl the words into your ear. His hot breath and wandering hands filling you with urgency. He squeezed lightly at your hips and undid the sweet bow of your apron quickly.

You moan but bite your lip as you gently rut back onto him. He lets out a broken moan of his own and starts grinding against you. “Don’t get too many ideas, love.” The name is said teasingly, warning you not to press your luck too far. You whine and try to circle your hips. He bites his lip to keep a shaky breath hidden and wraps his arms entirely around your waist. He lifts you up from the counter and reaches a hand down. His hand pressing against the rough fabric of your jeans.

Your head tosses back onto his shoulder as he presses the seam of the pants right against your clit. He sees you biting your lips and tsks at you. “Love, none of that.” He stops and reaches up with the hand that was just touching you. His thumb plucks your lip from between your teeth and doesn’t move. “Hold back again and we won’t get to the fun part of the evening. And we would want that would we love?”

You shake your head, and he pats your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. His hand goes back down and while he rubs the rough seem of the jeans against you, he ruts against your ass. The movements only serving to nudge you rougher into his hand. “Sugu,” you say breathlessly, chest rising and falling quickly.

He chuckles and kisses your head. “Close.” And just like that he stops. You whine and thrash trying to chase after his hand as it leaves. “Why?”

“Can’t have the fun ending early, can we?” He sets you down on shaky legs and helps you fully out of your apron. You stumble a little as you walk to the bedroom, but his arm is there to keep you up. He is the perfect image of calm and collected while your eyes are glazed over, and you stumble around.

When you finally reach your room (when did that hallway get so long?) you lay down on the bed and with shaky breaths unbutton your jeans. “Not just yet.” He tuts at you and grabs hold of your hands. You whine and pout at him. “Soon.”

He crawls between your legs and cages you in with hand hands on either side of your head. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You gasp a little in surprise and his tongue finds its way past your lips. He hums as your tongues fight and when he pulls back there’s a shiny string of spit still connecting the two of you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and the string breaks.

“I forget how gorgeous you look like this. All desperate for me.” He leans his head down and makes a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.

“I guess,” you gasp as he sucks at the skin, teeth gently nipping. “I guess, you’ll have to be reminded more often.” You say between shaky breaths as he sucks dark marks into your skin. Your hands rest gently in his hair and a sick thought comes to your head.

You tangle your fingers deeper in his locks and give a gentle tug. He lifts his head up and smirks. “If you’re going to pull it, at least do it right.” He reaches his own hand in your hair and pulls roughly. A strangled moan leaving your mouth as he chuckles darkly. “See, do it properly or not at all.” Your breath hitches and you blink up at him dumbly. “Well?”

You swallow and lick your lips as his hand helps guide your own. To the nape of his neck where you grab a fistful of hair and tug, you watch with desire as his head flings back and a moan comes past his kiss bitten lips.

He lets your hands stay in his hair as he travels down to where your shirt has ridden up. He kisses the patch of skin free to him and admires how goosebumps form. How your body jumps and tries to chase his fleeting lips as they press gentle, feather kisses to your skin. You can feel the heat in your stomach grow as he nudges the shirt up, letting it pull above your chest.

He pulls your boob from your bra and attaches his mouth to the bud. His tongue circling it as it hardens in his mouth. You grip his hair tightly and roll your hips to try and get more stimulation. He presses a hand to your pelvis and pushes your hips back down onto the plush covers of the bed. “Sugu, please.” You beg and he must take pity on you as he removes his mouth from your boob and sits you up. He helps you remove your shirt and bra fully, kissing the skin in the wake of his touch.

He unzips your jeans and helps you shimmy them off of your legs. Left in your panties and he starts slipping off his robes. You watch with bated breath and dazed eyes as his body is exposed to you. No matter how many times you see it you will never not be in awe of your boyfriend.

He pulls your underwear to the side and grabs the lube from the drawer. He warms it up in his hand and spreads it across three of his fingers. He gently works one finger into your hole, and you tense up slightly. He bends down and kisses you. “Relax.” He whispers against your lips and after a few minutes of working the finger in and out gently pushes a second one in alongside it with practiced ease.

He pushes them as far as they can go and curls them up. Your legs shake and your hips jolt up as you moan with bated breath. He chuckles against you as he bites and kisses your lips. He rubs his fingers along your walls. In and out. In. And out.

The third finger goes in smoother than the others, but he shushes you gently all the same. “Close,” you warn, and you wish you hadn’t. He stops moving and presses on your pelvis when your hips start thrashing. “Sugu! No, please.” You beg pathetically as tears start welling in your eyes.

“Aww, it’s okay love.” He coos as his fingers sit still inside of you. They twitch gently and he feels you tighten around his hand. His tongue darts out and licks across his lips. “It’ll all be worth it.” You sniffle and he kisses away the tears that start to fall from your eyes.

Once you calm down and he feels you relax around his fingers he starts moving them again. He curls them every now and then which makes you moan deliciously. He stretches them apart and you lift your hips to try and get away from his fingers, but his hand just chases them. After what seems like a torturously long time of him slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you, he pulls them out completely. Your hole clenches around nothing and you whine at the loss.

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Now, now. Be patient love.” He rubs the head of his dick against your opening. A glob of precum now smearing against both of you and he moans at the feeling. Slowly he starts pushing into you. The head sliding in, and he groans as he rests his arms on either side of you. His hand reaching up and his sullied fingers resting against your lips. “Clean these for me.”

You open your mouth, and he wastes no time shoving his fingers in. You moan at the taste and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he continues to slowly push into you. He stops halfway and it makes you whine; you hadn’t even realized your eyes had fallen shut. “Doing so good love, only a little more.” You nod your head; you hadn’t even realized he had gotten so far. Mind too preoccupied with sucking his fingers.

Finally, his hips rest flush against your own and he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “Did so good love,” he whispers as his head rests in the crook of your neck. His lips making gentle kisses there. He stays still for a moment as he feels your walls tighten and relax around him. His dick twitching inside of you and making you moan. The tip sits right at the perfect spot.

Finally, he starts to pull out until only the head is left inside of you. He slams his hips back to yours and both of you moan at the action. “Sugu! Not gonna last long.” You whine and he nods his head against you.

“I know love. Just so pathetic.” He bites and sucks at your skin as he roughly slams into you. Sliding against your soft and plush walls. He feels you tighten around him again and his fingers pinch at your nipple. He tugs gently and your head lolls back. His other hand sliding between the two of your sweat slicked bodies to find your clit.

His thumb making rough circles to match his pace as your mouth drops open. “Such a whore. Mine though. Say it.”

“Yes,” you whisper out. Breathless and on the edge of falling over your climax.

“Yes, what?” He teases and kisses your temple.

“I’m your whore Suguru.” You moan and your hands find solace in his hair again as you grip at the locks.

“Let go for me love.” Your eyes flutter shut, and your legs shake as he feels you tighten around him. Your hands tug at his hair without meaning too and his head tilts back with a moan. His dick twitches and he cums inside of you. The two of you lay there breathless for a moment before he slowly pulls out. “I’ll be back, okay? Just a moment.” He leaves and comes back with a damp washcloth to wipe you off.

He kisses your skin softly as he wipes you down. “We’ll take a shower in a little bit.” You nod, eyes still closed and chest still heaving. He pulls you into his arms after throwing the cloth into the hamper and kisses your forehead. “Did so good my love.”

taglist. @hiraethwa

stay a while why don't you? check out my other stuff

#jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader

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mrsnegan · 8 months ago

Text

Get down tonight

Pairing: Negan x f!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You spot Negan and Joel watching you on the dancefloor and decide to have a little fun.

Warnings: smut, reader is a bit drunk but fully invested in this little banter, making out, praise kink, semi-public fingering, finger sucking, mentions of threesome (f/m/m)

Author's note: Well, I can't help myself with these two. Why do they make me feel so damn horny all the time? 😅 And those matching gifs on top of that. Enjoy reading. 😊

The bass travels through your body, electrifing every nerve ending, making you sway to the beat of the music. Drink in hand, you lose yourself, eyes closed, cheeks heated from the alcohol and atmosphere of the club.

When the song changes, you open your eyes again, instantly feeling the gaze of someone on you. Your eyes scan the people surrounding you, but only when you look farther towards one of the booths, you see him, or better, them. Handsome, older, both drinking you in from afar.

Heart fluttering wildly, you bite your lip, swaying your hips, raising your drink.

They briefly look at each other before raising their beers too, taking some gulps before their eyes are fixed on you again.

The buzz of the alcohol makes you bold, dancing a bit more suggestively, giving them a show, searching for their reactions from time to time. One of them smirks openly, pursing his lips in amusement, while the other drinks you in with a hardened gaze, hand twitching in his lap.

Arousel spreads through your body, the liquid heat between your legs definitely ruining your panties.

You've never done something like this before. Well yes, you've definitely flirted with men at bars or in clubs, danced with them, kissed one or two. Though this time, you risk it all, driven by liquid courage and all-consuming desire. With one last look into their eyes, you point your head into the direction of one of the dark corridors, wink at them and turn around.

As the music grows duller, your heartbeat picks up its pace, hands sweaty. You lean against the wall at the end of the corridor, a door to one of the staff rooms to your right. There is no one around but you, until you hear footsteps approaching you. This is stupid, you think for a second, definitely a way those horror movies start, but your mind feels blissfully light, your body electric.

Both men stop some feet away from you, giving you a chance to take them in from head to toe despite the your dimly lit surroundings. One of them, the one with the smirk still plastered over his face, wears a fitted white tshirt and blue jeans, accentuating his toned arms and long legs. His eyes sparkle with mischief and from this distance you can make out his gorgeous dimples peaking through his trimmed beard. The other, stern but handsome, wears a plaited shirt and some dark trousers, broad shoulders making you bite your lip. He drinks you in with brown eyes, his slightly curly hair framing his face nicely, also sporting a trimmed beard and moustache. Gulping nervously, you take another sip from your drink for some extra courage.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" the one with the dimples asks, voice smooth and deep, making your knees go weak.

You tell them your name, asking for theirs in return.

"I'm Negan, this is Joel," Negan explains, head pointed towards his buddy with the plaited shirt. "Must say, you definitely have some lady-sized balls on you to make us follow you here."

"Maybe," you answer, lips curled into a smile, eyes drifting to Joel, then back to Negan. "Want to come feel for yourself?"

Negan lets out a deep laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "That mouth on you."

He takes some calculated steps into your direction and you hold in your breath in anticipation.

Negan takes the drink from your hands, kneeling down to place it on the ground next to you. When he looks up at you, you bite your lower lip, pulse quickening with him being so close.

He grins up at you when is fingers carefully trace your naked calves, up, up, up until his hands disappear under the flowy material of your dress. He rises then, towering over you, hands still anchorend on your flesh, pulling your dress up on their way towards your ass.

"I fucking like what I feel so far," he teases. The heat radiating from him makes your head spin.

His lips ghost over your neck while his hands knead the flesh of your ass, one of them travelling to the front of your panties, gently cupping your clothed pussy.

You jump at his touch, heat rising up your body while arousel pools between your legs. Hands flying to his shoulders, you moan out loud when his fingers trace your lower lips through your panties, grinding your center into his hand while your eyes flutter shut.

"No balls, but a damn wet pussy, baby," Negan muses, rubbing over you with more pressure. "That all for us?"

Nodding, you moan again when Negan pulls your panties aside, his fingers gliding through your wet folds.

"Words, darlin'. Want to hear what you need." Your eyes fly open, meeting Joel's dark gaze over Negan's shoulder. He casually leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed in front of him.

"Need to come, please," you whimper.

"So polite, damn," Negan breaths against your ear. "Keep looking at him, eyes open."

Before you can answer, Negan sinks one thick finger into you just to withdraw it and circle your clit with the right amount of pressure to make your knees go weak. He finds a dizzying rhythm, coaxing little moans out of you.

All the while you try your best to keep your eyes open and locked with Joel's, being watched definitely makes your blood boil with pleasure. And not only that, it's the way he looks at you, those brown eyes and stoic face, as if he tries his best not to pounce at you and swallow you whole.

When Negan finally enters you with two of his digits and sets a faster pace, heel of his palm deliciously smacking up against your wet folds, you nearly scream.

"Shh, don't want anyone to see you like this, wouldn't you?" Negan whispers against your lips, kissing you passionately to shut you up.

When his lips leave yours, you look over his shoulder again, panting. "You just wanna watch, Joel?" you ask him while Negan fucks you with his fingers.

Joel doesn't answer right away. He pushes himself off the wall, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he closes the gap between you both and him.

"Sure don't", he says, voice rumbling in his chest.

Negan moves his body to make room for Joel without retreating his fingers or slowing his movements. It's as if they know this kind of depraved dance already. And hell, who are you to judge?

Your right hand leaves Negan's shoulder to find leverage on Joel, letting him comes face to face with you. His left hand tangles into your hair. The kiss that follows drives the air out of your lunges. His tongue coaxes your mouth open and while he moves his mouth against you, Negan whispers into your ear.

"Such a bad little girl, ain't you? So desperate to come that it doesn't matter who's giving it to you."

You gasp for air when Joel pulls away. Moan after moan spills from your lips, Negan's fingers fucking you so good you can't even form a coherent thought.

"I think you should shut her up, Negan", Joel says.

"Yeah, I definitely should." he grins down at you mischieviously. He retreats his fingers from your pussy, making you whimper in protest. You want to talk back, but Negan is faster.

"Open up", he adds and you obey. His fingers, coated in your juices, enter you mouth. The palm of his hand rests against your chin, taking full control of your mouth. You shouldn't like this, you really shouldn't but your pussy clenches around nothing, eyes rolling back.

"Fucking shit, will you look at that? She likes having her mouth stuffed," Negan comments lowly, moving his fingers experimentally.

Eyes travelling between Negan and Joel, you grind your hips forward, searching friction, anything really, to lessen the ache between your legs. You can feel your sticky wetness there, can smell yourself on Negan's fingers which are now fucking your mouth.

"Don't worry, darlin', I've got you", Joel mumbles. When his fingers, two at first, sink themselves into your waiting hole, you gasp and moan around Negan's fingers. They both fuck you mindless, wetness coating Joel's hand the harder he drives his digits into you. Adding a third finger, he curls them just right and you splutter around Negan's digits, the stretch nearly too much.

The club, the music from afar, other people who could potentially see you like this, it all doesn't matter, is nearly forgotten. Your legs begin to shake, the pleasure rising higher and higher, your fingers sinking into their arms, surely hard enough to bruise.

"Shit, you look so damn hot like this. Let it happen, sweet thing," Negan praises, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth. You gag around them but are distracted by Joel who presses his thumb onto your clit, rubbing in tight motions. Your eyes find his and you begin to tremble, your orgasm rushing through your body, leaving you shaking and moaning around Negan's fingers. Joel fucks you through it, spreading your wetness all over your thighs and his hand.

"That's it, good girl", Joel says, slowing his fingers.

"Hot damn, messy little thing." Negan grins at you proudly while retreating his fingers from your mouth. Salvia drips down your chin and his fingers and without another word, he licks his fingers clean.

Transfixed with the view, you jump a little when Joel's fingers also leave you. You watch him inspect his glistening hand, also licking your juices off his fingers, savouring your taste.

"Thank you", you whisper blissfully, still glued to the spot. "You wanna take this somewhere more private so I can return the favor?"

#negan #negan x reader #negan smut #negan x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #negan x reader x joel miller #jeffrey dean morgan #pedro pascal

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sentientgolfball · 2 months ago

Note

for the prompts, #16 with swissther please? & swiss is the one calling aeth a pup :]

I hope you all like Swiss and quintessence laced smoke as much as I do

“You want me to do this?”

“I can’t exactly quintosis myself.”

“Yeah but…me? Why not like Omega?”

“He’s taking care of the infirmary.”

Swiss blinks at Aether. It takes a lot to shake a ghoul like Swiss, but this is definitely something. Don’t get him wrong, he is more than willing to do this, but hearing the request spill from Aether’s lips is what has him dumbfounded. He never asks for this. He’s never even shown an interest in having it done to him before. Hell, the only people he’ll even sub for are Mountain and Cirrus. So why is he coming to Swiss now? In the middle of the night no less.

No, he knows why. He can see the dark circles under his eyes and how dim the stardust in his fur shimmers. He may put on a brave face, but the stress of having to stay behind is clearly getting to him. Swiss can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like knowing your replacement will be summoned in less than a week. He’s been so focused on making sure Dew doesn’t burn himself out that he didn’t even think to help Aether. Now that he’s on Swiss’ doorstep though, he can make up for it. He can give Aether what he needs.

“Go get settled on the bed pup.” Swiss runs a hand over Aether’s shoulders.

It’s subtle, but Swiss can see the way Aether’s ears twitch at the nickname. He tries to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up at this new piece of information. Oh is he going to have fun with this. He closes his door, flipping the lock before turning all his attention to him. He pauses when he turns around though. Aether is sitting on the edge of his bed. He’s already stripped down to nothing but his boxers.

Swiss smiles and approaches him, cupping his cheek when he’s close, “Oh you’re such a good little pup aren’t you? I didn’t even have to ask.”

Smoke curls out of the corners of his mouth as he talks. His normal black and white eyes are a simmering purple and maroon. Fire and quintessence. When Aether nods, Swiss closes the remaining distance, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s sweet all things considered, but that doesn’t last. Swiss licks across the seam of his mouth. The moment Aether opens for him he’s blowing that quint laced smoke straight into his mouth.

Aether cups the back of his head as he breathes it in, exhaling through his nose. Even though Swiss’ quint isn’t nearly as strong as full fledged quintessence ghoul’s, the effect is still immediate. He can feel Aether’s muscles relax where he’s squeezing his shoulder. He doesn’t kiss him back with nearly as much fervor. Slowly the hand on Swiss’ head goes lax until it drops off of him all together.

He pulls back to look at him and oh is it a gorgeous sight. He’s smiling up at Swiss with big, glassy eyes. He looks softer, not a crease or worry line in sight. He’s leaning into Swiss’ palm, nosing against his wrist.

“That feel good puppy?” Swiss runs a hand through his hair.

Aether chuffs, closing his eyes and nodding.

“Yeah? You want to feel even better?” He begins to trail his other hand down Aether’s body, teasing at the waistband of his boxers.

Swiss can barely hold himself back when Aether nods again.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fic #golfball writes #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether x swiss #swiss x aether #cw pet play

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mywritersmind · 1 month ago

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FOR THE PLOT - KA12

summary : A vacation, perfect timing, and their friends, bring Y/n and Kimi together on a tipsy adrenaline filled night.

listen up : KIMI ANTONELLI X READER! kissing and drinking! my first kimi fic which is super fun to write bc he’s the closest to my age. prob will make more parts!

word count : 1523

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Tan and in a mini dress is all I needed to feel myself again. When my friends said they were spontaneously going to the Maldives, I told them they were crazy and my parents would never go for it. Then they reminded me that I’m an adult and my parents had no choice but to say yes.

I sip on my pina colada, a hand in the air and dancing with my two best friends. Delilah giggles, her braided hair in two thick braids, she looks past me and giggles, “There’s a boy watching you!” A cool breeze blows past us, chilling my skin a bit under the humidity.

I laugh, “Couldn’t have made that less creepy?” Still, I turn around to see a boy indeed watching me. When my eyes meet his, he looks away, talking to his friend before glancing back and smiling softly.

He's cute and I’m surprised I haven’t seen him around the resort until now. He’s got a shorter brunette boy next to him, a tall dark haired boy, and a tall blonde boy dancing up to them with drinks.

I turn back to my friends and laugh, “Dibs on the blonde!” Cara says, pushing her light brown hair over her shoulder while checking the guy out as I laugh and frown down at my drink, empty.

I hop back over to the bar, seeing two of my guy friends, Micha and Jamie both flirting with much older guests. I give them a look to which they both smirk at before ordering another drink.

I hear laughter and what sounds like arguing, turning to see what is happening, I see the two boys pushing the cute curly haired one towards me.

He pushes against them, shaking his head. When he looks up at me and realizes I'm watching, his already burnt cheeks go pinker. “This is Kimi!” The blonde one says, slapping his friend on the shoulder before running off.

“I-” Kimi tugs on the collar of his dark blue button down, “Hi.”

I laugh, finding his awkwardness amusing, “Hi.”

“Sorry about my friends- they act like that a lot… more than you’d think.”

I raise a brow, “Pushing you to go talk to girls?”

He laughs, “Yeah. This is the first time I've actually wanted to, though.” I smile, the bartender handing me another pina colada.

I nod, watching the boy, “I’m Y/n.” He looks relieved when I talk, “I like your accent. Italian?”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/n. And thanks, I am italian!” He leans against the bar, messing up his order but laughing with the bartender. “How long are you here for?”

“Got in like two days ago… I’m here for another two weeks!” He seems to perk up at this.

“I got in today! I’m here for two weeks as well.” He takes his drink and the bartender shoos us away. As Kimi walks next to me, I realize that he’s a good bit taller than me.

As we walk away from the party, I see my friends meeting Kimis, they all see us but I can tell they’re pretending to not watch. I laugh a bit as we walk down the beach.

I find out Kimi is eighteen and I sigh in relief because so am I. “This is my first real trip without my family.” He laughs shyly, “So far it’s looking up.” He glances at me.

“I think this counts as mine too. I mean- I went to Monza for like two days while my friend went to a race but…” I notice him staring at me and stop talking. “You okay?”

“Monza as in the Italian grand prix?”

I nod, “Yeah! Were you there or something? I’m not really into F1 but my best friend is totally obsessed, she’s the brunette back there eyeing your blonde friend.”

He laughs out loud, shaking his head, “Paul? Yeah well I think she will love him when she finds out he’s an F2 driver.”

“No way!” I drink more, “Funny how things like that happen.”

He nods, running a hand through his curls as we step onto the trail of villas that are perched over the water. He invites me to his deck, I can tell that guys are staying here because there’s board shorts, sunscreen, and cups left.

We sit on the sunken couch, I put my legs under me and turn towards him, his arm around the back. “I really like your necklace.” His hand goes to the chain around my neck, a tiny shell and pearl in the middle.

I bite my lip at his closeness, his hand brushing my chest, “Thanks. I make them.” He looks up quickly as I say it.

“Really? That’s insane!” His hand drops and I smile, my cheeks heating and suddenly I'm very thankful for the lack of light.

“I made this one here actually! I do rings and bracelets as well!” I accidentally start rattling on about what I make and he just sits and listens like I've known him for years. I realize what I'm doing and stop suddenly, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for being passionate.” His eyes are beautiful and makes me think this is dangerous. Not being out here with a random guy, but already wanting to kiss him.

His head tilts against his arm, looking up at me with his brown eyes. I have a realization then. It's my last bit of summer, I'm eighteen, I'm alone with my friends, a cute boy is in my grasp.

We sit there for what feels like hours but I'm pretty sure there is only one. He’s so easy to talk to that I don’t know what time it is. I hear the footsteps of people going back to their rooms but after a while, everything is pretty quiet, except for the far away club music at the bar.

I sit up and grin, “Do you wanna go swimming?”

He raises a brow, “Now?”

I glance at the dark water that surrounds us, “Yes!”

That’s how I end up in the private pool that each villa has. It’s lit dimly from above and I'm even more grateful because I'm in my bra and underwear.

For the plot, I remind myself.

Kimi shirtless makes me doing things out of my comfort zone 100% worth it. He’s fucking ripped and I feel my face heating as I eye his abs and arms while he stands outside the water in just boxers. He didn’t change into swimming things because he didn’t want me to feel alone.

He turns around and does a backflip into the water, “Wow!” I laugh, feeling my drinks in me now, “Talented!”

“Ah, love, you have no clue!” He swims towards me, dunking his head and shaking his curls out like a dog. I ignore the nickname and laugh.

“Hey!” I yell, splashing him. He grins at me, his smile is ridiculously attractive.

“You’re cute.” He says quickly, swimming backwards. I laugh and watch him dive under the water.

I feel a hand grasp my ankle and suddenly I'm getting pulled under the water. I kick him and get back to air, laughing so hard that I start to cough.

“Shit are you-” I push him under the water, my hands on his head. We play around, he laughs and splashes me one last time as the back of my head hits the side of the pool.

He floats closer, his hand going to my face scares me at first, but then he softly rubs his thumbs under my eyes, wiping my clearly smudged mascara.

I smile, one hand still on my cheek and the other next to my head, holding himself up. Water is dripping from his curls onto his face but he only seems to notice me.

I bite my lip softly, his eyes going to them. When his eyes meet mine again he starts to speak, “Can I-” I know what he’s going to say.

I kiss him first, my hands on his neck as one of his goes to my waist, holding me up.

He kisses me back immediately, my head hitting the wood behind me and his hand tightening on my waist, slipping down a bit.

The creek of the floors makes us both look up to investigate, the tall brunette from before is like a deer in headlights, “Give a guy some warning!” He says in a British accent.

Kimi just drops his head to my shoulder, shaking it with his eyes squeezed shut, “Ollie!” At the yell, the boy hurries away and Kimi takes a second before looking up at me regretfully, “I’m so sorry.”

I laugh, “Honestly don’t worry.” I pull my hands away from him, “I should go though, need to find my friends.”

His eyes dim a bit but he nods and backs up, “Hey uh- think I can see you tomorrow?”

I step out of the water, stealing a towel and smiling wide with my back facing him. I breathe and turn back to him casually, “If you can find me.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f2 fanfic #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli fic

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bchan95 · 1 year ago

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Tension Pt. 1

I swirled my glass of wine, tongue fixated on the inside of my left cheek as I watched him lean over to her again and whisper something into her ear. That stupid dimple popping as he moves his hand to rest on her lower back.

Nothing about this should bother me. Nothing about the way his head tips back in laughter at her jokes should make me want to pour this glass of rose down the back of her silky silver dress. The only thing that could potentially stop their bodies from being fully intertwined like they had been all night.

I had no right to be angry at someone I didn’t know. A beautiful brunette with perfectly placed freckles with her hands on his chest. Face near his face. But here I am, two seconds away from breaking this glass against the brick wall I’m leaning against. I begged for any noise to drown out my thoughts of her face on his face, his neck, his body.

This rush of pulsating continuous thoughts was put to a pause by a hand on my shoulder. My eyes painstakingly left the bitter romance that I watched in front of me to meet bright blue curious eyes. I let my scowl fall as I read the concern immediately as pressure was added with a squeeze.

“Girl you cannot sit here and torture yourself all night,” Yuna looked at me wide-eyed as she grabbed the glass from my hand and took a sip before handing it back to me.

I knew she was right. I couldn’t just sit there and let my thoughts continue to dig their heels into the crevices of my thought process. But I couldn’t look away. I knew that the second my eyes left their intertwined arms, I would just continue to paint my own picture as I tried to keep up with the buzzing conversation at the table.

“I’m fine,” I say flatly. She ignores me. Interlacing our hands, she guides me back to our shared table.

They all look at me with the same doe eyes. I hated how I immediately knew that they were pitying me. Something in those soft glances made me want to spill my guts. And there was only way I planned on throwing up emotion tonight.

“Guys… why are you looking at me like that?”

Felix shook his head at me, the little cross earring in his left lobe shaking as he sighed. He grabbed my hands from across the table and lovingly drew circles on the tops of my palms. He didn’t say anything else but I knew what it meant.

I let his hands rest there as I scoffed, forcing a smile across my lips as my left eye glanced in their direction once more. Enough to hold me over until they were all distracted again. They were dancing. Closely. That’s all I allowed myself to see.

I let go of one of Felix’s hands and downed the rest of my glass, squinting my eyes at the impact. I looked back up at the table and their eyes were still on me. I finally gave in and asked the question.

“What’s up with you all? So quiet?”

I laughed. No one else did. Finally, the quiet was cut by the waiter setting glasses on our table with a bright smile. He dropped a dark liquid in front of me. I scrunched my eyebrows, turning left to catch his attention.

“Oh I didn’t order-“

The waiter smiled back at me, a small diamond gracing his leftmost tooth as it widened. He shook his head before speaking.

“You didn’t… but he did.”

The man pointed to a section across the room from the table. MY eyes followed and finally landed on him. He grinned ear to ear as he held her waist close to his. He shot a wink and shook his phone. I quickly looked down at my own bright screen and saw it aglow with a message.

“You deserve to have fun, yeah? Happy birthday xx”

I sent a quick heart react to the message as a faint smile fell across your lips. I looked back up at him and raised the glass with a nod. I looked back over at the table to three disappointed halfhearted smiles across from you as you slowly savored the free cinnamon and brown sugar coating the glass.

Felix finally breaks the ice with an eye roll.

“I know Chan is your best friend and it’s complicated but… Y/N I just hate seeing you like this… and on your fucking birthday.”

My own laugh sends a sharp pain to my stomach, and I take another long sip. I knew he was right. I knew constantly watching Chan dance with other girls really hurt. I knew that although he was entirely unavailable, I found it hard to date anyone because of him. It was unhealthy. It made me nauseous. I didn’t want him to leave.

“Felix. I promise I’m okay. Chan is going to Chan. I shouldn’t just not invite my best friend to my birthday celebration because I’m incapable of moving on.”

The liquor burns this time as I force it down my throat, but I am persistent. I let the full glass melt away in my body before facing them again. I smirked, leaning my hand against my head, feeling the burning of my cheeks against the chill of my palm.

“I’ll be okay. I just hope he gets whatever he planned to get out of this night so I can just focus on something else.”

Lia chewed on her bottom lip “I just think he’s kind of disrespectful. Like… even as your friend he couldn’t stop playing the field to celebrate with you?”

I nod softly. She had a point here. I had made these plans weeks ago. I just wanted one day with my friends to let loose and forget everything. But it’s hard to do that when your best friend is a rockstar with enough ego to be supercharged for life.

It wasn’t his fault though. I told him to have fun… and he is having fun. I know he is. That girl is beautiful. The way her arms seem to fit so perfectly around his neck as he pulls her torso into his. The way she throws back her head with easy laughter at anything he says, catching the brightest smile she’s ever seen on his face.

I envy the ease that comes with the beauty of her caliber. Even if it’s just surface level. Because selfishly and desperately, I wished that I was pretty enough that he forgot about all of my quirks. That he saw me as only an object of desire for once. That I could capture all of his attention with one bat of my eyelashes.

But he had to know my Ben & Jerry's, sobbing in the shower, corner store red wine, five seconds from a meltdown personality.

I lift myself off my chair, a slight haze covering my pupils for a moment before they clear.

“I’m going to get another drink. Does anyone want anything?”

They all shake their heads and I shrug as I push through pulsating rhythms and bodies to get the bar. I, unfortunately, lay my hands down on the sticky wood and immediately picked them up with a scrunch of my nose. I hastily grab my hand sanitizer out of my purse and glaze my fingers in the putrid liquid before looking back up.

A dark-haired bartender with glasses smiled at me as he cleaned off the glass in his hand. My eyes glanced at the way his arm muscles followed the motion of his hands for a moment before looking back at him.

“Hi!” I scream against the deep base of the EDM track behind me. The bartender’s smile deepens.

“HI!” he mocked me, giggling a bit after he did.

I bite down a smirk on my lips before continuing “Can I get a vodka cranberry…”

“Changbin.” He said confidently, nodding at me as he took my credit card from my waiting hand.

“Thank you!!” I yelled again, letting myself lean on the counter once again.

My eyes zeroed in on their dancing. However, this time Chan’s eyes directly met mine. I forced a smile onto my lips, about to mouth some stupid quip to embarrass him when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around to meet those glistening dark eyes again.

“Here you go miss…”

I allowed myself to smile again “Y/N.”

He nodded, holding out a frosted glass and my card in my direction again. Our fingers grazed as I grabbed the items from him. “Man,” I thought to myself, “I really need to get laid. A Darcy-esque hand touch shouldn’t send shocks up and down my arm like this.” I giggle to myself and start to step away from the bar.

“Thank you, Changbin!” I yell at the same volume as I did my introduction.

He tapped his chest with his fist before screaming “You’re welcome, Y/N!!!”

I couldn’t fight back the giggles this time as I saw his obscene reaction. I let them fall one after the other as I kept eye contact with him. He breaks out into a bright smile before shooting a wink my way and turning back to the bar. I try to settle the reaction on my face as I turn around to move back over to the table. As I sit down, I already hear laughs around me.

“Oh he’s cute, Y/N…” Yuna starts. I lift my head to see her raising her eyebrows up and down in my direction. She points subtly behind me with a smirk. “And he’s still fixated on you even though he can only see your back right now.”

I slowly turn and meet Changbin’s eyes quickly before spinning back around. My cheeks were heating up as I tried to sip my glass casually and respond back to Yuna.

“He is kind of cute…”

I watched as Yuna scanned the room, her eyes meeting something before she almost doubled over in laughter. I feel my eyes widen in confusion as I watch her expression change. I am terrified to look around, not sure what my eyes will come in contact with. Luckily for me, Yuna paints the scene.

“Looks like your cute little interaction was noticed by someone else too…” She lifts her glass with a smirk

Now I was curious.

I turned around quickly, and I saw Chan leaning against the bar. Eyes blazed and glared right in my direction. The girl he was with dangling on his arm, trying to whisper in his ear but he continued to stare at me. I raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the table with a shrug.

“He’s being weird, but what’s new.”

The three people across from me exchange some wide-eyed glances before looking back at me. I want to say something, but my thought is quickly stopped by a warm hand on my exposed shoulder. I don’t move out of shock, waiting for any other movement from whoever stands behind me. I felt whisky-laced breath hit my nose as they leaned their face toward my ear.

“Who’s your bartender friend, Y/N?”

#bang chan x y/n #changbin x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader

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chaotic-orphan · 10 months ago

Text

INTOXICATING FEAR (IX)

Much Needed Alone Time

Read part one here

Continued from here

TW: overall content warning, very uncomfortable, forced self-harm, self-harm, mentions of self-harm, explicit self harm, gory self harm, blood, cuts, knives, cutting, explicit detail of blood/wounds, gross depictions of blood, torture, threats of violence, hopelessness, sadistic whumper

This one is even a bit squidgy for me at parts so take care of the warnings and of yourselves! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

“Wakey wakey, Kit,” Ambrose sang. That was his only warning before a slap echoed around the room and Kit’s eyes shot open in shock. Ambrose was crouching in front of Kit, pale red lips tilted up into a half smile as Kit jerked forward. He didn’t get very far though.

Kit’s arms were kept restrained awkwardly behind him, bound tightly wrist to wrist. Kit frowned at Ambrose in question.

“Where’s Superhero?” Kit asked, voice erring on cautious. If Ambrose had managed to subdue or God forbid kidnap Superhero… or use him as his own little puppet toy plaything, then there really was no hope for either of them.

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head about Superhero, Kit. He had to nip out on an errand which gives us some much-needed alone time,” Ambrose said, his voice too high and pleased with himself as he spoke, but his eyes… Kit swallowed the lump in his throat at the pain they promised. “Ah, there you are. There’s my scared, timid little Kit. You forgot yourself before, it’s okay. You can admit it, it’s only the two of us here after all.”

“I didn’t forget myself,” Kit snarled, bearing his teeth at Ambrose and jerking forward in the chair as far as he were able to. “I am done playing by the rules of your sick twisted games.”

Ambrose tilted his head to the side, dark eyes drinking in Kit’s threat. “Did seeing Superhero make you brave, Kit?”

“He’s going to see right through you,” Kit sneered, “and when he does, I’ll be there. Watching as he beats the—”

Ambrose jumped at Kit, one hand going to his throat while the other pressed a knife against Kit’s cheek. Ambrose wrenched Kit’s head up, so he was staring directly into Ambrose’s eyes with that cute little defiant look. Ambrose revelled at how still Kit went once Ambrose introduced the knife to his face.

“You won’t be able to watch if I pluck out those pretty little eyes, Kit, would you?” Ambrose mused. Kit shook his, trying to shake free Ambrose’s grip, but Ambrose tightened his hold and pressed the knife in deeper until Kit stopped moving. “Ah, ah, ah, Kit. Play nice or my hand might just slip.”

“Take my eyes!” Kit spat, his voice taking on a feral growl to it, as he struggled furiously in his restraints. “Take whatever the fuck you want because you will fuck up sooner or later and it’s only a matter of time until Superhero finds out who you really are! So go ahead!”

Kit craned his neck up further, pressing into the knife that Ambrose held. Daring him.

Bold.

Ambrose pulled away, dropping all contact from Kit. Kit let out a scoff as he dropped his head and rolled his shoulders.

“Yeah, thought so.”

“You know, Kit,” Ambrose said with a sigh, pressing the tip of the knife against his index finger and twirling it thoughtfully. He turned his back to Kit, walking towards the front door.

“You’re right. I didn’t really think the whole sickness thing through, if Superhero comes back and you’re still as feverish as you were, well,” Ambrose said inclining his head, with a wan smile: “he’d probably recommend a hospital or a healer… both of which I have no need of.”

Kit remained silent. He glared at Ambrose as he continued.

“So, while you were out of it, I was trying to think of a way to get Superhero off our backs and I had a little lightbulb moment, Kit,” Ambrose said, and looked over his shoulder at Kit with a grin, “you wanna know what it was?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”

“You’re so un-fun, but I will,” said Ambrose, turning to face Kit now. “Sometimes stress manifests itself as illness, Kit.”

“Well, I am sick of you, so that makes sense,” Kit grumbled. Ambrose laughed.

“And sometimes, it manifests as mental illness.” Kit’s brows furrowed in question. Ambrose smiled. “Don’t you want to have a guess at what I mean by that?”

“Not particularly.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Good. So, we can begin then.”

Kit tensed in the chair as Ambrose walked purposefully towards him, around the chair and out of sight. Kit turned his head, but Ambrose pushed it back, so Kit was forced to stare forward.

“Hey! Hey! What’re you—”

“Oh, not so brave now, are we?” Ambrose asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

When the cool metal pressed against Kit’s wrist he jerked forward, trying to get away but Ambrose said: “stay still,” and the sludge like command melted Kit’s brain until he was forced into immobile submission.

The metal pressed against Kit’s wrist again and to Kit’s surprise, Ambrose cut him free of the ropes or whatever was tying him to the chair. He still couldn’t move but for some reason being free didn’t exactly make Kit’s heart sing with joy. Something like dread settled at the bottom of his gut instead as Ambrose walked around the chair again.

“Now, Kit, illness… sickness, physical sickness can be treated by a healer or a doctor but mental illness? Especially from stress, perhaps… oh I don’t know, work related stress from being a hero, for example. That is treated by time away from the stressors.”

Ambrose paused to let his words properly sink into Kit’s brain. Ambrose didn’t speak again until Kit’s wide eyes met Ambrose’s with a panicked kind of hatred.

“No,” Kit said. “No! You can’t—”

“Oh, yes, Kit. Yes, I can.”

“Superhero would never… he wouldn’t—” Kit blubbered before furious eyes met Ambrose’s dark ones. “He would check on me every day—”

“Would he? A good soul like Superhero? Or would the guilt of having maybe pushed you too hard, or not having seen the signs earlier prevent him from coming regularly?”

“Wait, Ambrose. You can’t do this!”

“Oh, I can,” Ambrose chuckled.

Kit’s mouth screwed up desperately, his breathing coming out a bit faster than necessary. “But— but I won’t be as fun if you can’t fuck with me when I’m at the hero tower, and you won’t learn about anything or be able to take down the heroes from within, or— or—”

“Oh relax,” Ambrose said with a wave of his hand. “This isn’t going to be permanent, Kit. Just a long enough break away from the stressful environment of being a hero. Some good old-fashioned R&R with yours truly will set you right.”

Ambrose bit back a grin when he saw tears gather behind Kit’s eyes as he struggled to try and fight Ambrose’s compulsion.

“Please, Ambrose. Please! Anything but that, please. I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want. Please, I’ll stop fighting you. Please just don’t— don’t—” Kit cried, cutting himself off with a heartfelt sob, sniffing as the tears started falling down his cheeks.

Ambrose moved closer, cooing at Kit’s pathetic display of desperation. He pressed a cold hand against Kit’s cheek and brushed the tear streaks away with the coarse pad of his thumb. A sympathetic smile on his stupidly too-red lips.

“It’s okay, Kit. Everything will be fine. Come on, walk with me to the bathroom. The blood will be easier to clean off there.”

To Kit’s horror his body obeyed Ambrose’s command. Every neuron in Kit’s brain was firing at him to stop, to not go with Ambrose, to fight, to regain control over his own body – but it was all in vain.

Kit stood from the chair and followed Ambrose across his living room into his bathroom. Ambrose turned on the light, and turned to grin at Kit, holding out a hand.

“What?!” Kit barked, wiping the angry tears from his eyes.

“Well, you have two choices Kit, you either; step into the bath or hold your arms over it,” Ambrose said, leaning his lower back against the sink and crossing his long legs. “The choice is yours; it doesn’t really affect me.”

“Is it?” Kit asked, coming to stand in front of Ambrose, his heart thundering against his ears. If he could stall for time and wait for Superhero to come back, he could catch Ambrose in the act. He’d know that Kit was suffering at the hands of a fucking tyrant.

The corner of Ambrose’s lips quipped up. “Knock yourself out, Kit. Enjoy the freedom.”

“Except it’s not freedom cause either way you’re going to make me do one of them, aren’t you?”

“Well obviously,” he deadpanned. “But I can wait if you want. We can wait until your precious Superhero comes back and instead of hurting yourself you can hurt him too. Would you like that, Kit?”

“You said you wouldn’t read my mind anymore. Takes the fun out of it, have you changed your tune?”

Ambrose rolled his eyes and stood to his full height, stepping forward and knocking Kit back a step with his shoulder. Kit’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he stumbled back, forgetting that Ambrose was taller than him.

“Honestly Kit, I try,” Ambrose said with another step. Kit matched it with one backwards, still glaring up at him. “But sometimes it’s so rare that you think anything in that little noodle of yours, that the thoughts are too loud for me to ignore.”

Ambrose pressed a finger into Kit’s forehead and tipped him back another step before Kit batted his hand away.

“Real funny, Ambrose. Hah-hah!”

“I try,” Ambrose said, flashing a charming smile. “But you’re right. I have decided. In the bath is better than out.”

Without pausing Ambrose pressed his palm flat on Kit’s chest, fingers spread and shoved Kit backwards. Kit hadn’t realised how close he was to the bath, so it came as a surprise when his thigh hit the edge. He shot his hands out to steady himself too late, failing to grab hold of Ambrose and gravity had him in its claws. Ambrose getting further away as Kit fell, his head smacking off the tiles as he landed awkwardly in the tub.

“Motherfucker!” Kit cried, rubbing his head with a scowl as it pounded from the whack.

Ambrose shrugged leaning back against the sink again, arms folded across his chest. “I did give you the choice to get in the bath of your own accord. This one’s on you.”

“Maybe I want to lean over it,” Kit grumbled, fumbling to right himself. When he settled Kit glared up at Ambrose from the tub. “Well, we don’t have all day. Force me to do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore.”

“Kit,” Ambrose chided. “Don’t have that attitude, come on. Make it fun for me. Struggle a bit.”

“What’s the point? You’ll just use your powers on me and get what you want eventually. Let’s just cut through the bullshit.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Ambrose leaned off the sink and handed Kit the knife. “Kit, I want you to take the knife and roll up your sleeves and cut your wrists.”

Kit felt the blood drain from his face.

“What?” Kit whispered as his hand reached for the knife against his will. “Wait! Ambrose, you can’t want to kill me I thought—”

“Oh hush, Kit. Don’t be dramatic. Make the cuts horizontal. Not deep enough to bleed out, or need stitches, but enough to leave scars.”

Kit was rolling up his sleeves as Ambrose spoke. “Ambrose, wait please. Please! Wait! Stop! Why can’t you do this to me? You cut me! Make them believable? Please?! Ambrose please, I – I don’t want to do this.”

Ambrose crouched so he was eye level with Kit, looking into Kit’s too bright eyes that were already tearing up at the mere thought of Ambrose’s command.

“What makes you think I care about what you want, Kit?”

Kit let out a sharp hiss as the blade sliced through his skin. Kit didn’t look down. He didn’t want to see what his body was doing to itself. Instead, he stared at Ambrose as he cut and Ambrose stared at Kit, never dropping eye contact for a second. Black eyes drinking in every twinge of pain flashing across Kit’s face, savouring every morsel of emotion that bled through his features.

Kit was doing a good job of keeping his face impassive. Until the third cut. Kit sucked in a sharp breath as he banged his leg against the wall of the bath, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling and breathing slowly out through his mouth with a pained hum.

“Alright there, Kit?”

“Never bett— AGH! Fuck!”

This time Kit looked, and he wished he didn’t. Sticky blood surrounded his wrist, thick and dark and gloopy. Kit couldn’t even tell where the cuts were because the blood from the last cut had washed over them all, leaving streams of blood racing down Kit’s palm. Splashing down onto the snow-white acrylic bottom of the tub.

Kit was going to be sick, but there was no time as his arm mechanically moved back to slice again. Kit looked up pleadingly into Ambrose’s black eyes, looking for any sign of sympathy or empathy, finding nothing except his own pathetic reflection staring back at him. Kit bit his lip to stop crying out on the last cut before Ambrose moved.

“Okay, Kit. That arm has enough. Mo—”

“Wait,” Kit croaked, licking his lips. “Waitwaitwaitwait, wait…”

Ambrose paused, tilting his head, eyebrows arching at interruption. He didn’t punish Kit though or chastise him, so Kit took that as an opportunity to continue.

“The… the blood— my knife will slip. I need to—”

“Okay Kit,” Ambrose said softly. “We can wait while you fix yourself.”

“Thank you,” Kit breathed, dropping the knife onto the tub floor with a clatter. Kit’s hands were shaking violently as he wiped the blood on his tracksuit bottoms, biting his lip to quiet the pained whimpers.

Ambrose clicked his tongue and said, “Kit stop. You’ll ruin them. Use the water.”

Kit blinked up owlishly at Ambrose, eyes glazed over as if the thought of using the bath hadn’t occurred to him. Kit nodded dumbly and reached over to the end of the bath, turning on the cold tap. The water was freezing. Before Kit could talk himself out of it, he gritted his teeth and plunged his arm under the spray.

Kit let out a startled gasp of pain, making his other hand a fist and beating it off the side of the bath because the cuts stung under the icy water. Kit bit his lip and rubbed the sticky coagulated strings of blood from his arm and hand. He did his best to not watch them slither like snakes down the drain and instead focused on turning the tap off.

Kit looked down at his arm to see fresh bright red blood surface in his cuts. None of them too deep. Exactly what Ambrose wanted. Exactly what Ambrose commanded of him, and he obeyed like a good little puppet.

Kit pushed himself back to the middle of the bath trying to push that though from his mind. His damp tracksuit clinging awkwardly to some places as he scooted across. Kit found Ambrose’s eyes with his own as he wiped the fresh streams of blood on his tracksuit, half to dry his hands, half to fuck with Ambrose just because.

Kit grabbed the knife and got comfortable, balancing his knees against the inside of the bath, feet planted on the bottom of the tub. He cocked a brow at Ambrose, as if to say I’m waiting, and Ambrose had to laugh inwardly at the gall.

Ambrose’s lips quipped up at the simple defiance. “Okay, Kit. Now cut your other arm.”

Ambrose relished Kit’s shaking hand as he drew the knife over his skin. He wanted to record all of Kit’s micro reactions in his brain just so he can think back on this moment whenever he was feeling down. It was intoxicating.

To watch Kit’s hand tremor, his body fight against Ambrose’s power and not be able to do a single thing to stop him. He could feel Kit’s mental resistance trying to fight Ambrose’s compulsion off him as he made the second cut. Ambrose drank in his expressions, every muted wince that he tried so hard not to show Ambrose.

It was pure turmoil he put Kit in, and it was addicting. He could watch it all day, and never get bored but that was just with Kit. Most of his other victims had a weak constitution and gave in a few days into Ambrose’s mental assault, in hopes that Ambrose would get bored and let them go. Some of them stopped fighting him out of sheer weakness, but not Kit. Never Kit. How long had it been now? Weeks? Months? And Kit was still fighting him.

Even if it wasn’t fighting Ambrose’s powers mentally, it was his little looks of defiance, his unwillingness to concede even if it would make life easier on him. No… Kit was a fighter and Ambrose couldn’t get enough of it. Finally, someone to match him, to challenge him. To say no and make everything difficult just because. It was obviously an illusion, but to Kit it seemed to be some semblance of control that he could pretend to have.

His favourite part was coming up now… ah yes. After the third cut, Kit bit his lip to stop the sudden cry. A deeper cut. He brought his head up and stared Ambrose directly in the eyes, that defiance still evident through his pain filled, glassy eyes on the verge of tears. Even when he wanted Ambrose to show mercy, he refused to ask.

It felt like Christmas and Kit was a gift for Ambrose to toy with, to batter and break and fix and break again, but a toy doesn’t give you that same satisfaction. The euphoria of seeing Kit’s white knuckled grip tight around the handle of the knife as he sliced through his flesh against his will and tried to hide the pain in his expression. Or more aptly, trying and failing to hide it, made it all the sweeter.

Ambrose leaned forward. “Two more, Kit. One deep, one shallow.”

“Nn— no,” Kit whispered, his hand shaking harder now. “No…”

“Remember little Kit, what you are. You’re my little puppet. My plaything, you don’t get to say no to me. Now, deep enough to hurt but not deep enough for hospital.”

“Fuck you,” Kit whispered venomously as he sliced through his arm, deeper this time. Kit cried out loud this time, craning his neck back to glare at the ceiling and Ambrose leaned closer. Observing the strain in Kit’s neck, the veins popping out of his throat. His jaw that was clenched tight enough to grind his teeth. His voice that came out like a pathetic animal’s cry.

“FUCK! Ughh!” Kit groaned, stamping his foot against the wall of the bath again, trying to exert the pain in his arm and transfer it to the bath.

“Look at it, Kit,” Ambrose said, and Kit shook his head.

“Go fuck yourself, Ambrose.”

“Kit. I said, look at the mess you’ve made.”

Kit fought the command like he always did but eventually his head turned down against his will and his eyes fixed on the massacre of blood on his arm again. Ambrose watched as Kit visibly paled at the sight with a soft smile. Kit made another cut while he looked at his arm and then Ambrose plucked the knife from his hand. Kit glared up at him. Ambrose just grinned.

“Clean your arms with the water, then change out of those clothes and put them for the wash. I’ll get the blood out of them, Kit. Don’t worry.”

“You’re so gracious,” Kit spat. Ambrose looked over his shoulder at Kit.

“Kit, slap your cuts for me.”

Kit barely registered the command, but the sharp sting had him letting out a diminished howl through gritted teeth.

“You fucker!” Kit screamed after Ambrose, but Ambrose had already walked out of the bathroom laughing at the good of it. “I hate you!”

“I know, Kit.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom

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countrymusiclover · 7 months ago

Text

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen. So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second. Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father. Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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