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#HE FOUND THE WAY OUT... HE FOUND A WAY TO OVERCOME HIS INSECURITIES AND THE LIMITS THOSE INSECURITIES CONVINCED HIM HE HAD
mymarifae · 1 year
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millies everywhere died
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
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MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
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Ghost
Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later 👀.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, he’s not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”
He’s very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.
He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”
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König
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.
It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
“Inch by bloody inch.”
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Valeria
You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
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Price
He’s so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.
When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”
“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.
“And all mine.”
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Horangi
You’re the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.
Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”
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Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”
Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
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Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it. 
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.
Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”
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Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.
E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”
He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.
“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost
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nikkisheep · 3 months
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Pretty Like That
Daryl Dixon x female!reader
Warnings: age gap (Daryl is in his 40s and reader is in her 20s), sexual tension, SMUT, oral (f), fingering, overstimulaton, thigh riding, unprotected sex, degradation (use of slut, whore), hair pulling, kissing, Daryl whimpers, insecure Daryl about his scars, slightly perv Daryl (he watches reader change)
Summary: After spending a supply run together, the sexual tension between you and a certain archer becomes almost too much and threatens to overcome the both of you.
Song Rec while reading:
wRoNg: ZAYN
Worship: Ari Abdul
Shameless: Camila Cabello
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Daryl Dixon was known to have a short temper, and an even shorter patience tolerance. When Michonne and Gabriel sent him on a supply run with none other than you, he knew that he would have to keep his cool or he will lose his mind and he can't risk that. He thought that if he just ignored the way his breath hitched in his throat when your breasts bounce in your black tank top with every step you take to his motorcycle.
"Hiya, Daryl!" You call as you sling your bow and arrow over your shoulder before making yourself comfortable on his bike.
He just grunts in return before kicking the kickstand up and taking off. Your hands wrap around his torso and he takes a deep breath as he reminds himself that he needs to breathe through his nose or he is gonna pass out.
---
You hummed to yourself as you walked through the store in a small run down town. It was a clothing store, or well was once before the world ended. Clothes were hanging on the racks and then you saw the underwear section. It was perfect. You needed new panties and you knew that some of the other ladies at Alexandria would enjoy new pairs. You went to the shelves and started packing as many as you could before turning to Daryl when you found some see through lace panties.
"Hey, Daryl?" You ask quietly.
"What? Ya good?" He asked, small panic rushing into his brain. Hopefully you didn't hurt yourself. He had only left you in that section of the store for maybe five minutes.
"Do you think these would make my butt look good?" You ask with a serious face while holding up the undergarments.
"For fuck's sake!" He groaned as he turns away. "Don't ask stupid shit like that." He takes a moment before turning back around and replied, "Yes they would make your butt look good."
You turned away from him with a smile. You grabbed a couple more like that pair in your size and threw them into your pack. After searching a couple more store, you and Daryl started back into the woods and went tracking for something to eat. Night fell upon the two of you before you knew it and you looked for a place to set up camp in a small house just a few miles from the town.
Checking to see if there were any walkers, you and Daryl made your way into the semi-decent house. It was no where near perfect but it would be good for the night before you leave for the next town in the morning.
Daryl came into the house with some firewood and threw it into the fireplace. You looked around the house for lanterns to have light and lit some matches inside of them. Once the house had some light, it dawned on you that it was just you and Daryl in this house. The fireplace sent a yellowish orange lighting onto Daryl and his blue eyes shone in contrast to the lighting. You stood at the stove and was heating up some beans and bread that you had found in a store. You smiled at idea of living with Daryl and cooking for him. You smiled at the idea of a possible normal life as normal as it could be in the end of the world.
Sitting down across from Daryl, the two of you ate your food. Daryl kept his eyes on his bowl and didn't look up at you until you cleared your throat.
"You don't like me, do you?"
Daryl put his spoon in his bowl, shoveling a bunch of the beans into his mouth before setting the bowl on the floor beside him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then he turned his head to look at you. He fought to keep his eyes connected to yours instead of looking at your rising and falling chest. God he felt like he was a creep, like he was a teenager again. It wasn't him trying to sexualize you, he really didn't mean to but when you were looking at him like that, breathing like that, he was really struggling to maintain eye contact.
"I don't hate ya," He says, his blue eyes darting in between yours and the wall behind you.
You shuffle closer to him before placing your hand on his chin, turning his face to you. His eyes stayed on your face, suddenly he was at a loss of words, not that he had many in the first place but still.
"If you didn't hate me, you would be able to look at me for more than two seconds before scoffing and turning away," You giggle with a smile and then move closer. "What is it about me that you don't like looking at?"
You had the biggest crush on Daryl Dixon and you barely tried to hide it from anyone but him. He was tall, strong, handsome, and very, very good at protecting people. He had a hard exterior, but he was really a big softy for the people he cared for. How could you not like him?
"There isn't anythin' 'hat I don't like lookin' at," He says, blush creeping up his face. "I jus' don't know why ya make me crazy."
"I make you go crazy, Daryl?" You ask. "You have no idea how crazy you make me."
Your faces creep closer, you were basically straddling the archer as you pressed yourself closer to his body, desperate for his warmth. Your eyes flicker to his lips quickly before snapping back to his cool eyes. You wondered what his lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like running over your body.
Daryl's hands came up to your face to move some hair out of your eyes and he cupped your jaw. He tilted his head up, barely, almost brushing your plump lips. Your lips part slightly, ready to grant Daryl's full permission to do whatever he wanted to do to yours. Just as the distance was about to close, your eyes closing, breathing heavily, a walker's growl could be heard from outside the window and Daryl all but throws you off him (not really much of a throw, just nudging you off him quickly), and he takes care of the walker. He stabs the monster in the head, blood splattering onto his face and clothes before he turns to you and then walks out of the house.
----
Making your way through the woods, Daryl refused to say anything to you. You had tried to make small talk but he ignored you. He kept walking as he scanned for prey, hopefully a deer or a pig. He didn't really care, as long as he had something to kill and take his mind off the way that you made him feel last night. You were so much younger than himself and he didn't want to seem like a creepy old man who would nut in his pants from just seeing your tits bounce a few times.
Daryl would have intense dreams where your tits were bouncing because you were bouncing on his dick and he was pulling your hair back so your neck was arched backwards and he would mark you up as his while you rode him.
He shook the thoughts from his mind as he remembers that you were right behind him. He turned to you to see you kneeling down by the ground, looking at tracks on the ground.
"What are ya lookin' at?" He asked, his voice startling you before you relaxed.
You looked up at him before pointing left.
"These are fresh tracks, looks like a deer."
"Good, let's go."
"I need to apologize about what happened last night," You said as you walked quietly.
"Shhh," He said.
"I really am sorry about that, Daryl, I don't know what overcame me."
"I said, shhh, girl."
Just as you crept down behind a fallen tree, the deer walked out from behind the tall grass and started to eat at the fallen nuts on the ground. As much as you were hoping to be able to pay attention, Daryl's scent filled your nose as you realized how close you were and you could feel your panties dampen at the sight in front of you. You looked at Daryl and saw his thick muscles of his arms flex as he lifted his crossbow and aimed at the deer. You watched as he licked his lips gently as he closed one of his eyes. You watched his chest move with his breathing. You noticed everything. You needed to get this deer and then get back home before you tried to fuck him right out in the open woods.
"Let's go home," you said as you loaded the deer onto his bike.
"We are supposed to hit another town just a few miles over," He said.
"Yes but we have a deer which will draw more walkers to us," You said. "Let's drop it off with our people and then come out again."
---
Daryl listened to you because he knew you would throw a fit and then he would want to fuck your attitude away. He didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to love you. He wanted to come home to you every night, fuck you to sleep, and then cuddle with you as he tells you about his day. Before you, he never thought that he would want the "normal" life like everyone else. He never had anyone to come home to and he had become used to it. Now he wanted to share a home with you. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted to protect you.
While the two of you were camping out in the woods, your shirt and pants had been torn after a run in with a herd of walkers. You told Daryl that you were going to change and then you went behind his poncho hanging up on a branch. You thought that you were covered completely, but the poncho had other plans as it had fallen from the branch while you were turned away. Your entire body was on display for Daryl as you bent over in just your black panties to pick up a shirt you had gotten from the run down shop the other day.
Daryl knew that he should have turned away, to respect you, but something in his sick, twisted mind, he kept looking. He saw your skin shine in the bright moon light. He saw every curve you have and he wanted nothing more than to just mark every inch of your skin as his. You were his, even if you didn't know yet. He eventually couldn't handle it anymore and moved to pick up the poncho. His footsteps made you turn away but he had already covered you with the poncho.
"It slipped from the branch and I didn't want ya to be uncomfortable," He said as he stepped closer to cover your body completely.
"Thank you," You smile as you tilt your head up to look at him in his eyes. His hands were on your hips as he wrapped you up. You bit your lip softly and his thumb came up to release your bottom lip from your teeth, slowly stroking over it with such care. His eyes watched for your reaction and you had none but heavy breathing. He licked his own lips quickly and leaned in slightly, still checking your eyes for any sign of you not wanting his actions, finding none. Just as his lips were brushing yours, a hiss came from the fire as it died out and the world went dark.
He quickly pulled away and turned away from you. He cleared his throat and then muttered a quick "sorry" and then went to rebuild the fire.
---
Arriving back at your house after a few days being gone, you took a shower as soon as you got home. You walked into your room in just a towel before pulling out clothing from your closet. The shirt you picked out was one of Daryl's button downs that you stole when you were staying in his house before moving into your own.
Daryl walked up to your room as he needed to talk to you about the other night. He didn't know what had came over him but he needed to clear it up with you. He knocked on your door, thinking of all the things he would say but as soon as the door opened and you revealed that you were in just a shirt and panties. Just not any shirt, his shirt. His shirt was on your body. Your naked body. He didn't know what made him grab your face and pull you into a searing kiss, but he pulled your body closer to his as he walked you backwards into the room.
He kicked the door closed and turned you against it. He started to leave kisses down from your lips to your neck. He sucked at your pulse point and then your hands pulled his face back up to yours. His lips enclosed yours as you messily made out against your door. His hand went to the back of your knee and wrapped it around his hip, opening you up to him as his clothed core ground into yours as your hand found his hair. He let out a groan as your fingers twisted into his long strands.
Daryl's mouth pressed against yours as he swallowed your every sound as you whimpered for more. Daryl's fingers slid down to your panties and teased your clit behind the fabric. His fingers glided against your clothed clit in tight circles as you moaned for him, begging him to fuck you. A smirk came over his face as your head lulled back, opening your neck to him. He started to suck on your sweet spot as his fingers slid your underwear to the side and sunk in to the knuckle.
"Fuuuuuck," You groan as Daryl's fingers started to pump in and out of your body. Daryl smiled at you as he slowly kissed lower and lower as he removed his hand from your panties to rip open his shirt. He kissed down your body, slowly sucking on your nipples and lulling his tongue over the nipple before biting it softly, causing you to gasp in slight pain.
"You like it when I touch ya like this?" He asks, running his middle finger up your slit before popping it into his mouth to suck the juices off of it. "Fuck, ya sweeter than I thought."
"Daryl," You moan as he slowly kisses your thighs, your back arching off the wall.
"Move to the bed and spread your legs for me like a good littl' slut," He demands. The derogatory name made you feel more slick drip from your pussy.
Daryl slowly pulled his shirt over his head, wincing as your eyes roam over his scars. He goes to put his shirt back on but you move to stop him.
"Don't hide from me," You say softly. "You're beautiful."
You move to the edge of the bed and press a kiss to the scar on his chest, then the one on his torso. You lick up the one on his collarbone. You turn him around and you kiss each one on his back. You trace them as if you were tracing roads on a map.
"You are so beautiful, Daryl," You whisper against his skin before turning him around to face you. "Every inch of you is beautiful, even the damaged parts."
Something snaps inside of him and he pushes you back gently and he crawls over you like a predator to his prey. He kissed your lips and then he started to kiss down your body, tracing every curve into his muscle memory. He wanted to savor this into his mind forever.
"Did I ever tell ya 'hat ya make me crazy?" He asks.
"Maybe once before," You giggle but it quickly turn into a moan when he licks up your pussy. You grip onto the sheets, holding you grounded to earth before you floated away. Daryl notices you holding onto the sheets and he grabs your hands, making you think that he just wanted to hold them but he then moves them to his hair. He nods at you and then curls his tongue inside you which makes you cry out and tug at his hair. He moans against you and slips a finger inside your weeping hole which he then pays more attention to your clit with his tongue.
"Cum for me," he moans against you. His eyes watch as the band inside your stomach snaps as he continues to add another finger and play with your cunt. Your hips start to wiggle away from him but he pulls your body flush against his face as there is no room for any air for him to possibly breathe. All he could breathe in was you. He could only see you, taste you, and breathe you. He was alive for you and this sole moment.
Eventually Daryl had pulled two more climaxes out of you and he then starts to kiss back up your twitching body. He rolls over and goes to cuddle you but you lay there confused.
"We are not done," You smile before climbing onto his thigh. Slotting your legs on each side, you slowly start to grind down onto him. He sits up and places his hands onto your hips, helping your movements.
"Fuck ya such as whore for me, ya gotta fuck my thigh?" He says with a smirk.
"Please," You moan out, head falling back.
Daryl pushes you off of him long enough to take his pants and underwear off and then he pats his lap, beckoning you to come closer. You move into his lap and he places your hands on his shoulders as he moves his cock to be lined up with your entrance.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks, making sure that you were one hundred percent certain that you wanted him to do this.
"Please, Daryl, just fuck me!" You groan out and then Daryl eases his tip into your weeping pussy.
"Fuck," You moan as you slowly stretch on his dick. "Please, just get inside me!"
Daryl looks at you for one second, taking in your face before cupping your cheek. He then snaps his hips forward and his entire dick goes inside you, kissing your cervix lightly. You scream at the intrusion and he gently soothes your hair as he speaks praise into your ear. He then pulls almost all the way out and then snaps back inside harshly. Your hands cling to his shoulders as one arm wraps around his neck and grip onto his shoulder. Daryl's arm wraps around your torso and the other hooks under your arm and his hand grips your shoulder, squeezing tightly as he pounds into your pussy with slow, harsh thrusts.
You head falls backward as Daryl's fingers wrap into your hair and pulls your face closer to his so he roughly kiss you. It was messy, all teeth and spit dripping everywhere. Your lips moved in fierce movements as they tried to keep up with each others. Your hips bounced against Daryl's as the two of you tried to get to the finish line. Daryl grips you tightly before using his body weight to flip the two of you over and he catches himself with one arm on the bed as your legs wrapped around his torso, your arms holding onto him for dear life as he fucked into you with punishing thrusts.
Daryl's dick moved inside of you in fast, rough movements, hitting your cervix at times but was always hitting your g-spot. Your head was thrown back as you cling to him and he moves one hand to the headboard as he stares down at you, your hair laying out around your head like a crown and he whimpered when your pussy clenched around his thick cock. He gently moved your legs down from his torso and spread you out further as he moved back onto his knees, leaning over through his arms to kiss your forehead before he reared his hips back, and snapped them forward, driving home in a hard thrust.
You scream in pleasure and borderline pain but it was so good. You dig your nails into Daryl's back as he drops his head into your neck as his hands are clinging to the headboard that was beating a possible hole into the wall as you plant one hand against the base of the headboard to keep your head from slamming into it. Your mouth is agape as Daryl nibbles on your collarbone as his hips slam into yours, surely leaving bruises that you will feel for days after this.
"Fuck ya look so pretty, looking at me like that," He moans as you throw your head back into the pillows, begging him for more, to make you come.
"You wanna cum?" He asks, one of his hands slipping from the headboard and coming down to rub fast circles on your clit, adding fuel to the fire that is boiling inside your core. Your body screamed for release.
"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He smirks. "Fuck ya feel so good, baby. This pussy was built for me. God, I don't 'ver wanna leave it. Jesus, look at that. Your pussy is just sucking me in, she don't want me to leave either."
You moan at his filthy words before begging him to let you cum. Your hands reach for his neck and pulls him down to kiss him. Just as his lips brush against yours, the band inside you snaps and you let out a muffled scream against his lips. He was close already before you came but after feeling you cum around his cock, he knew that it was just a matter of time before he cumming all over you.
"Daryl, cum inside me."
Those four words made his hips snap faster against yours and then you felt him still against you, then a warm liquid spilled inside you as Daryl's body shuddered above you. You heard him whimper and groan as more and more ropes of thick cum spilled from his dick. Your hands rub up and down his back as you kissed his collarbone.
Daryl rolled over and pulled you with him, lifting you off his softening dick and then covered you both with your blanket. He kissed your forehead and moved the few strands of hair from your face and then kissed your lips.
"Can I ask a question?" You ask as you draw circles on his chest.
Daryl just grunts in response.
"Do you still not like me?"
"I swear to God woman. You still think I don't like ya?"
"Well, I can't be too careful," You smile up at him. "So do you like me?"
He leaned his head down and kissed you on the lips, soft and slow, before fulling back.
"Does that answer your question?" He asks with a huff.
"I'm not fully convinced," You smile before climbing back on top of him and starts pressing kisses to his neck.
"Ya're gonna kill me, woman!" He groans with a smile before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a crushing kiss, rolling on top of you to further prove that he likes you.
Maybe he does like you. But who can really tell?
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 8 ] || [ Chapter 10 ]
Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i think Ghost always steals Soap's hygiene products bc he cannot be arsed to buy some for himself.
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Chapter 9: Drinks?
The moment the helo touched down, the soldiers descended, each of them parting ways as they went about their regular business, returning their gear to the armory, debriefing, showering, eating…
Almost a whole hour after their arrival, Simon threw himself down onto his bed, his skin dewy from the shower, his hair combed to the front and dripping over his face.
He popped open the top drawer of his nightstand and fished out his phone and charger. He set the charger up and turned on the phone as it charged up.
Simon didn’t often use his iPhone. Sometimes he forgot he even had it. The only times he did was to check Soap’s and Gaz’s insta/snap stories (because he liked being up to date on what they were doing) and when they were all on leave and had parted ways, so he could check the groupchat. 
Once the phone turned on, he immediately beelined for Tinder and opened the app. The app lagged a bit at first but, open loading up, he saw it.
99+ likes, 99+ messages.
The big majority of them were girls, too young for him, thirsting for him, even with his face being hidden. He always knew he could attract people, so it didn’t exactly surprise him.
Rolling his eyes, he flicked his finger over the screen until he found your chat and clicked on it.
Simon: I’m back and in one piece. Simon: I think you need to wish me luck more often.
He didn’t expect you to answer him immediately, even if it was only 6 P.M. on a Tuesday and you’d likely be at home and free, considering the job you listed on your profile.
However, the Read notification popped up under his text almost immediately and your dm came right after without the app even announcing you were typing.
you: omg i was literally JUST checking to see if you had said anything you: welcome back!
The text made a smirk take over his scarred lips before he bit the bottom one and typed out a reply.
Simon: Have you been waiting to hear from me for 3 weeks? you: noooo Simon: That’s frankly adorable. Simon: Didn’t think I’d have gotten in your head that strongly. you: oh piss off simon. you: ur not that great. Simon: You’re still texting me. you: sooo???? Simon: So, I can’t be that terrible. Simon: Got your attention, didn’t I? you: oh piss off you: ur so cocky and for what Simon: Not cocky. Just sure of myself. you: no Simon. No? you: no 😤 Simon: Okay then. Simon: Suddenly not sure of myself because you deemed it so. Simon: I’m very insecure now. Simon: Is that better? you: stop being such a bloody smartass 🙄🙄🙄 Simon: You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Simon: I can’t take this. Simon: Going to go hug my pillow and cry some more. you: oh no you: i’m making the giant cry? 😱 Simon: Is that a dig at my height? you: YES Simon: My God, I’m going to cry even more. Simon: I’m being bullied. you: good!!! 😤 Simon: I’m making you pay for my therapy. you: pay for it yourself!!!! 🙄 Simon: How about I pay for dinner for the two of us one of these days instead?
You didn’t answer immediately after that. You always did that whenever he flirted with you and spoke about taking you out.
Simon had a shit-eating grin on his face, imagining that you were all annoyed at him behind the screen. He was right in guessing you were shy about going out, he assumed.
you: no. you: but you can buy me a drink tonight.
His jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised just a bit.
Simon: It’s a Tuesday night, are you sure? Simon: You know going out for drinks on a Tuesday is usually a sign of alcoholism? you: ur backing out now? you: wheres all that bravado of yours? Simon: Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not backing out, I’m asking if you’re sure. you: if i wasnt i wouldnt have invited you. Simon: Fair enough. Simon: Where? you: the same pub i met up with john at maybe? Simon: Rog. Simon: 30 minutes. you: i need longer to get ready. Simon: That’s fine. I’ll still be there in 30. you: are you going to be wearing the mask? Simon: 🤷‍♂️ you: SIMON you: YOU CAN’T BE PULLING OUT THE EMOJIS LIKE THIS you: YOU STARTLE ME EVERY TIME. Simon: Good. Simon: See you soon.
Setting the phone down on the mattress, Simon got up from bed and took off his towel, tossing it over the back of his desk chair before opening the top drawer of his tall dresser, grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs and putting them on.
Then, he rummaged through the other drawers looking for his one ‘going out shirt’™️ (which was actually a black long-sleeve compression shirt) which he put on along with a pair of dark jeans. It was a simple outfit. 
Then he slipped on some black boots. He threw on a leather jacket over that and tucked a black neck gaiter into the neckline of the t-shirt, hiking it up to cover his mouth and nose.
Barely a minute later, he was making his way into Soap’s room and across the small space that separated him from the bathroom. 
“Going somewhere, L.T.?” Soap probed from his spot at his desk, eyebrows raised and his eyes locked on the older man’s with intrigue. He rarely saw Ghost in civvies and even more rarely did he see him without a hoodie.
Unlike Ghost, Soap had made his officer’s quarters into his own living space, having brought in a gaming computer and chair, a small beanbag, and had plenty of knick-knacks around.
“Going out.” Ghost said simply as he grabbed Soap’s hair gel and squirted a glob of it into his hand before lathering them and using them to run through his blond locks which were exposed without the hoodie or signature balaclava.
“Out? On a date?” Soap asked Ghost as he quickly jogged up to the bathroom door, watching as Ghost fiddled with his hair.
“No. Just drinks.” Ghost replied as he tugged a bit as his hair to make it stand up straight. 
“Is this someone you found on Tinder…?” Soap probed as he leaned his shoulder on the bathroom door, a boyish grin on his lips.
Ghost looked over at Soap out of the corner of his eye as he finished fiddling with his hair and rinsed his hands under ice cold water in the sink.
Soap took Ghost’s silence as an affirmative response. “Pro’lly a shag too, hm?” He joked, earning him another glance out of the corner of his eye. “Bloody hell, L.T. tell me all about it later, yea?” He laughed.
“Fuck no.” Ghost added as he grabbed one of Soap’s cologne bottles and raised it up for a sniff before scowling at the scent and setting it down again.
“Aw, c’mon L.T.!” He pleaded. 
“Get your own date, MacTavish.” Then, he just made his way right out the door, forcing Soap to move out of the way, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. 
“I’m not getting anything interesting on there!” Soap lamented with a sigh.
“No? Well, I’m sorry for you, then, Johnny.” Ghost quipped as he opened the door again and stepped out into the hall, leaving Soap behind.
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norrizzandpia · 1 year
Text
Used (LN4)
Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.
Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings
Note: im very sorry for this one
Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s
When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.
“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.
She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.
At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.
Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.
Her first friend in Formula One.
Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.
“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.
“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.
And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.
They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.
The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”
At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”
Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”
“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.
Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”
“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.
“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.
“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.
“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.
The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.
“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.
Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.
“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”
His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”
“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.
She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”
He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”
After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.
Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.
They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.
His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.
“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.
He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”
Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”
“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.
She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”
A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”
This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.
“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.
Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.
“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.
Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.
“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.
“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.
She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”
He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”
Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”
His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”
His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.
“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.
However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”
She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.
Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.
“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”
Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”
“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.
“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”
“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.
“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.
Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.
He had.
“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”
“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.
Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”
The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”
Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”
Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.
“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.
“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.
Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”
She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.
Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.
“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.
Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.
“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.
She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.
Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.
When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.
The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.
Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.
Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.
“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.
Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.
“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.
She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”
His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”
Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.
“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.
“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.
“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”
He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.
“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.
“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”
With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.
For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.
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buddierecs · 3 months
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slow burn buddie fics
all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
tell me about despair by: hattalove "the entity often affectionately referred to as the unrepression fic." word count: 148k important tags: ptsd, therapy, trauma, heavy angst, friends to lovers, pining, getting together ripples all the way down by: iriswests "christopher partakes in some parent trapping" word count: 57k important tags: mutual ping, parent trapping, jealous!buddie, miscommunication don't worry baby (everything will turn out alright) by: woodchoc_magnum "buck and eddie are falling in love, and it's obvious to everyone but them." word count: 63k important tags: friends to lovers, team as family, fluff, angst, mutual pining overcome by: orphan_account "set post season 5A, where buck is alone, and angry, and exhausted, but mostly terrified that everyone he loves is slowly slipping away from him." word count: 53k important tags: TW: past child abuse, alcoholism, past suicide attempt, insecure!evan buckley, hurt!evan buckley, panic attacks, mental breakdown, eventual happy ending, mutual pining, sharing a bed, eddie diaz takes care of evan buckley standing on the brink of emptiness by: woodchoc_magnum "in which eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with buck; and buck is dating taylor, taking care of eddie and christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything." word count: 70k important tags: ptsd, injury recovery, pining, pre-relationship, getting together, angst
'cause we belong together now by: smilingbuckley "on a call, buck and eddie meet an adorable little girl that they fall in love with and want to adopt. the only problem? they're not together romantically..." word count: 68k important tags: fake dating, marriage of convenience, adoption, pining, fluff, soft!buddie, friends to lovers for a holiday (and forevermore) by: wikiangela "eddie's sick of personal, intrusive questions about his love life whenever he visits his family, so he starts bringing buck for the holidays as his (fake) boyfriend. he only wants to shut them up, and doesn't expect that the small crush he has on his best friend could actually turn into something more.." word count: 94k important tags: fake dating, sharing a bed, pre-relationship, idiots to lovers, soft!buddie, oblivious, fluff, angst, eventual smut i've got your back by: sammyunhinged "a very slow burn fic chronicling the progress of buck and eddie's relationship, buck's parenting journey, and eddie learning to accept himself, in which buck gets injured in an accident and he moves in with Eddie and Christopher." word count: 109k important tags: idiots to lovers, falling in love, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, cuddling, getting together, eventual smut the pain will leave you once it's done teaching you by: fruitsdoesnotknow "when daniel buckley lives a little longer, evan Buckley dies a little more. and this is how eddie diaz saves him, a little later on." word count: 43k important tags: angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, mutual pining, found family, grief there's an ache in you (put there by the ache in me) by: goforeddie "the buddie couple therapy fic where, following the events of eddie getting shot, both him and buck are forced by the department to go through mandatory couple therapy." word count: 50k important tags: couples therapy, ptsd, post s4e14, pre-relationship, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, nightmares, fluff and angst, sharing a bed every single things to come (has turned into ashes) by: imdarlenescousin "eddie starts dating, makes some friends, makes some realizations, and makes a serious offer." word count: 66k important tags: friends to fiances, demisexual!eddie diaz, mental health issues, pining,
heart of flowers/heart of gold by elvensorceress "after nearly losing each other, buck and eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." word count: 144k important tags: season 4, friends to lovers, mutual pining, evan buckley takes care of eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz, gun shot wounds hold steady, hold steady by: thetalee "after eddie's bombshell announcement on christmas, buck runs away and finds himself back on his first day on the job. a time-travel fix-it fic of sorts, ft. a stranger that totally just wants to help, honest." word count: 172k important tags: time travel, time loops, supernatural elements au, shannon diaz lives, hurt!evan buckley, temporary character death
explicit slow burn buddie fics :)
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z00oo1 · 5 months
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Collin and Penelope Fics
We Can't Be Friends by LovelyMagnolia
Penelope and Colin are two people who have never quite managed to get their timing right, but maybe all they need is one night to fix that. Modern AU
Yellow Dress by CassandraGoth
She wants only to secure a marriage that will allow her the freedom she needs to escape from under her mother's thumb and continue writing. But the unexpected return of a traveling gentleman and a sizeable bounty placed by the Queen to unmask a troublesome author.
A Wallflower's Bloom by Enganda
"Are you mad? I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington." Brokenhearted from the words she heard from her childhood love, Penelope Featherington had decided to change her ways and prove herself worthy of being loved.
A Pound To A Penelope by FirstLadyJane
After having spent the off-season licking her wounds, Penelope comes back to Mayfair a pragmatic woman determined to take control of her fate. She's on a mission to cement her spinsterhood and accept a standing job offer in Ireland.
The Great Stage of Fools by lottielots11
Penelope is finally engaged to the man she has loved for most of her life, and she could not be happier if it wasn't for the secret which hangs over them. And with Colin's reluctance to even discuss Whistledown, how will they ever overcome their differences in order to marry?
Scattered Flowers by Cortlandia33
After her fallout with Eloise and hearing Colin's declaration to never marry her in front of the entire Ton, Penelope left high society and found a cottage in the country. Now, almost three years later, her choice comes back to haunt her when a certain someone begs for her forgiveness... and her heart.
the last one in your corner by my_middle_name_is_awkward
Penelope cannot agree to marry Colin because she knows Eloise will not approve
Kintsugi by Metamorphases
Watch as Colin Bridgerton goes to increasingly mad lengths to keep Penelope Featherington safe and sound (and away from other suitors).
Dark is the world's night without you my love by angellus08
Penelope meets someone from Colin's past and her old insecurities crop up.
Affection by lixabiz
Colin returns to London for the Season of 1815, hoping to reconnect with his friend Penelope - only to discover that everything has changed between them.
Attachment by lixabiz
(Set post S2. Some elements from the S3 synopsis, but not a prediction fic.)
Butterfly's Reverie by CassandraGoth
What might have changed had Penelope told Colin privately that her cousin Marina Thompson was with child? Not an easy scandal from which to untangle himself without the public protection of Lady Whistledown’s society papers.
Foolish One by LeighAnne_Balsdon
Colin announces his engagement to Marina and Penelope doesn't take it very well. She makes a hasty decision to run away from Mayfair, to save her broken heart. When Colin and Eloise find out that Penelope is missing they decide to look for her themselves. What they find, however, is something no one was expecting.
One of us has got to change by itsjustabee
Colin and Penelope accidentally wear matching outfits to the Bridgerton ball
My Give a Fucks are On Vacation by SuzyH_82
It’s just a pity that for the last three years, she’s also been Colin’s ‘friends with benefits’ friend. I mean, it’s not like Colin could ever want a relationship…technically he already has a very public girlfriend…his fellow presenter Marina, on his travel log TV show. However, after their latest hook-up, Penelope overhears Colin talking to the press and realizes Colin is never going to see her as anything more than a friend and she finally decides to move on with her life.
i chose this cyclone with you (my heart exploding) by Vryalys
Well perchance it is I who do not wish to marry you any longer,” she hissed furiously at him, her eyes prickling as she moved away from him to the farthest end of the coach bench. She pulled at his mother’s ring from her finger, where she was sure it no longer belonged. “I will not marry a man who loathes to even look at me.”
The Disappearance of Penelope Featherington by hippiechick7897
Penelope Featherington leaves the many scandals of her life behind to start anew while Colin desperately searches to find her and bring her back home. When they are reunited, Colin finds a threat he had not anticipated and wonders if he's too late to secure the affections of the woman he's just realized is his love.
Violet's Fifth Daughter by kermitthefrogstanaccount
Penelope faints at her and Colin’s engagement dinner and Violet gives a piece of her mind to Eloise about continuing to love Penelope after everything that’s happened.
Ruin by Sea_Dragonfly
Colin wouldn't remember the details of what his mother told him next. He would remember her hand warm on his knee, her eyes wide with concern, her voice gentle as velvet. All of it in stark contrast to the devastating news she shared. Penelope was ruined.
Dishonest Conquest by lilyeval
Colin is such a gracious helper, he ruins Penelope’s every opportunity with her suitors. So protective of her honor, he even lets himself into her very private bedroom.
Just Having Fun by Spartangal22
When Eloise arrives home from Scotland, the very first place she goes is to see her best friend and brother in their home. And since they’re family, the rules of social etiquette need hardly apply. Why should she bother knocking?
her mother's daughter by secretlydelighted
the story where Lord Debling's son is courting Agatha Bridgerton and Colin is not having it, because why is another vegetarian all up in his business?
Meet Me at Midnight by Sevens11073003
Or eight times Penelope runs into a Bridgerton on the way to Colin’s room + the one time she runs into Colin on the way to bed.
have my back, yeah, every day by my_middle_name_is_awkward
Colin had very little patience for Cressida Cowper before he and Penelope were engaged. Now, he must make it clear that he will not tolerate her comments about his soon-to-be wife.
Unreliable Narrator by WhiskeyTinCup
Eloise has a lifelong habit of overreacting to Penelope's love life and everyone knows it, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.
I Do Not Want To Stand By Your Side by magentaverse
She didn’t need a love declaration. She certainly didn’t need him to sign his life to her. She just needed his love. A few smiles and his willing ear. But Colin Bridgerton did what he did best—he changed the course of her life the moment he muttered, "I do not want to stand by your side, Penelope Featherington."
Best Laid Plans meet MissCarriage by sanoiro
Or The unconventional birthing place of - the fated to be Adventurous - Miss Agatha Bridgerton...
Why do fools fall in love by NomDeJeen
Now that they are married, Colin wants Penelope to *win* the heir race with her sisters.
Benedict offers some unexpected advice.
It goes about how you would expect.
of manmade tales & honest lies by cchampdelevande
just saw someone asking "what if penelope finds out she's pregnant right after the lady whistledown fight with colin" and i genuinely think shonda is not above torturing us like that
Newton vs The Bridgerton Men by Lovelymagnolia
In which, Newton figures out Penelope's pregnant before she does, Colin develops beef with a dog, and a longstanding battle between Newton and all the Bridgerton men is unearthed.
Cracks by Vellinae
It’s a winter of firsts for everyone. It’s Colin and Penelope’s first winter as a married couple. It’s Penelope’s first time putting on ice skates and venturing onto the frozen lake with the entire Bridgerton family. It’s Colin’s first time watching the ice crack, just barely out of reach, and seeing his wife disappear into the murky water below.
At Least It Wasn't A Duel by SugMak
When Penelope sends Colin out of the house so she can focus on his journals, he hears Fife and the Toxic Lord crew talking about Penelope's breasts. He doesn't take it well. He's not particularly looking forward to her finding out about it.
Tintiddle Talks by goddammitfandom
Anthony ruins a wonderful family picnic by bringing up Colin's past indiscretions. He gets answers that somehow make him even angrier.
Tried to Pick My Battles 'Til the Battle Picked Me by headphonesbaby
Colin always seems to find an issue with Pen's boyfriends
I Wish You Knew by threefundamentaltruths
 which Colin and Penelope ran away together to escape the queen's wrath.
Visiting A Farm by ancoraimparo_youknowwho
Eloise is back from Scotland and eager to meet Her bestie. But things start on a very wrong note because who the hell does THAT to their wife??!!! Right??
uh-oh i'm fallin' in love (oh no) by stolemystarl17
Colin didn't stop the proposal at the Queen's Ball, but he can stop the banns.
grieving for the living by itwasglorious
Penelope marries Lord Debling and Colin cannot watch. So Colin leaves and Penelope settles into married life. A year later he returns.
Stand By Me by Musicalmidget
Penelope has been keeping another secret from Colin but upon see his family together at Francesca's wedding, she decides it's time to tell him and her plan for Lady Whistledown. This is a continuation of the scene from the study and will continue until the epilogue.
An Honorary Bridgerton by My_middle_name_is_awkward
The Bridgertons have always loved Penelope Featherington as if she was one of them.
Of course, they are all ecstatic that Colin will be making her an official Bridgerton, instead of just one of honorary status.
Scraped up off the pavement by missparker
After Penelope falls out with Eloise over her popular gossip blog, all the Bridgertons cut contact with her. Penelope moves to Scotland and buys a book shop and gets on with her life.
That is, until she spots Colin Bridgerton at the coffee shop next door.
Catch & Release by TonyStarksAngstyHeart
Everyone develops a tiny crush on Penelope as they wait, betting of course, for Colin to pull his head out of his arse.
Spanning 1803-1821
P-E-To-The-T-T-Y by jerrymander
Colin may be coming to terms with Penelope’s family but that does not mean he has forgiven them for their slights against Penelope.
Plenitude by HaveredSolitude
Colin and Penelope are faced with difficult decisions when complications arise during the birth of their baby. With the help of their family, they navigate through memories and feelings, confronting adversity with the strength of their bond.
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nurse-floyd · 4 months
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Perfect The Way You Are
Carlos Sainz x reader
Anon request: Could you maybe write something for Carlos, where the reader is going through some insecurity issues (basically where she compares herself to the other wags or other women on instagram or other social media). And Carlos just comforts her and tries to help her through her insecurities. I’ve been having a hard time with that recently so I’d love to read this, thank you 🫶
Warnings: alludes to mentions of past ED struggles, body dysmorphia and low self-esteem/ self-confidence.
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You walked beside Carlos, your hand clasped in his as you made your way through the busy paddock. You loved Carlos and were immensely proud of him and were his biggest supporter when it came to racing. Being with him made you so happy, yet the constant comparison online to the other WAGs, by media and fans as well as by yourself, slowly chipped away at your confidence every time you made an appearance at a Grand Prix. The other WAGs were effortlessly stylish, slender, and beautiful; all qualities you told yourself and believed you lacked. 
Carlos squeezed your hand a little tighter, noticing you were in your head lost in thought. His grip helped to bring you back to the moment and grounded you. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern. 
“Fine, Carlos,” you forced a smile and nodded. 
He studied your face a little longer, knowing you too well to know you weren’t in fact fine, but he also knew better than to question it. You’d talk to him when you were ready. Carlos was soon whisked away for various media duties and last-minute preparations before free practice, which left you alone to your thoughts again. You sat in a quiet corner in the hospitality tent and watched the other WAGs in their designer outfits, their big beautiful smiles, and perfect hair as people asked for photos of them. The old familiar feeling of not ever being enough, of hating how you looked, crept in and gnawed at your self-esteem even more. All the thoughts you’d tried so hard to overcome so easily crept back in. 
You decided to head back to the hotel early, not wanting to stay around the paddock any longer. You messaged Carlos and told his team to let him know you weren’t feeling well and headed back. You followed the last free practice and qualifying on your laptop, glad to have watched how well Carlos had done. You tried to ignore the other news flashing up with shots of the other WAGs; your Instagram feed was also full. There were photos of you, and you saw all the fan comments, but the only ones that stood out to you were the comparisons, the hate comments, and it only intensified the thoughts you’d been having all day. That evening when Carlos got back, you were already asleep. He quietly closed your laptop, climbed into the bed beside you, and held you close. The next morning, when his alarm went off, you lied, telling him how you still didn’t feel well. 
“Okay, mi amor. Stay here and rest, okay? Make sure you eat something and drink lots today,” he placed a kiss on the side of your head before he got ready and left for the day. You logged onto your laptop just to watch the race but spent the rest of the day in bed sleeping. 
Carlos found you in the same place he’d left you that morning. He sat on the bed beside you as he ran his hand through your hair, “wake up, Mi vida,” he called softly. 
You grumbled awake but smiled at having him back by your side. You sat up and pulled him into a hug. Despite showering and changing before he came back to the hotel, you could still smell the faint scent of champagne in his hair. “Well done today, baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate.” 
He kissed the side of your head and held you a little tighter, “I missed you today. How’re you feeling? Have you eaten or drank anything today?” 
You knew there was no point lying to him, and you’d been caught out despite your promise earlier that morning. He ordered room service before climbing into the shower to rinse off the rest of the grime from the day. The thought of eating anything was terrifying in that moment, but you knew you weren’t going to get off that lightly. 
You were glad of the two-week break before the next race. The days following that weekend, the feelings only intensified. You hadn’t felt this bad about yourself in years, and you weren’t entirely sure what had triggered you so badly. The mirror became your worst enemy; the body dysmorphia only intensified your feelings and distorted your reflection into someone unrecognizable. Urges long past began to resurface as you slowly and so easily found yourself slipping back into old destructive habits. 
Your boyfriend noticed the changes. He saw how little interest you had in things you used to enjoy, how you pushed your food around your plate, and how you missed gatherings with the other drivers and WAGs during the break. Your once vibrant personality was dim, the smile not quite reaching your eyes. A few nights before the next race, after a day spent training and in media and promotion duties for Ferrari, Carlos found you on the balcony of your hotel alone, staring blankly out at the sparkling lights of the city as night drew in. 
He took the seat next to you and wrapped a protective arm around you. You leaned into his embrace and rested your head on his shoulder. 
“Hi,” he said softly. He chewed on his lip for a moment before he pushed, knowing he couldn’t take no for an answer anymore. He wanted to help and support you in whatever way you needed. “What’s going on, amor?” 
Tears threatened to spill as you finally felt the walls you’d built up around you come crumbling down. You wiped at your eyes with your sleeve as you prepared to spill everything. “I…I’m not good enough for you, Carlos. Compared to the other wives and girlfriends, I’m just so…plain. I’m not pretty enough, I’m not thin enough, or as fashionable.” 
Carlos’ heart broke as he saw you so sad, so broken. He pulled you in tighter to his side and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I want you to listen to me,” he said, his voice calm and steady, “you are and have always been enough. You are the most beautiful person in the world to me, inside and out.” 
You scoffed and shook your head in reply, no longer caring to wipe away the tears, “I see how they look. I see what the media and fans say and how they dress. I can’t compete.”
Carlos gently placed a hand on your cheek as he pulled your face to look at him, “you do not have to compete with anyone. I love you and only you. Your kindness, your compassion, and love. I love you for more than your looks, even though to me you are the most beautiful person in the world.” 
You let out a small laugh. Carlos’ words and the love and honesty you saw in his eyes helped to finally break through the self-doubt that had been plaguing your mind. “I can feel myself slipping, and I’ve fought so hard to overcome all of that. I thought I had overcome all of that.” 
“You’ve got through it once before, and we’ll get through it again,” he promised, “you’re not alone, y/n.” 
Carlos was your rock the next few days. He listened to you as you vented, encouraged you to talk to him when he saw your mind wandering, and showed you just how much he loved you and how much you meant to him in more ways than one. 
You weren’t fixed, far from it, but as the next race came along, you walked through the paddock with his arm around you with your head a little higher. With Carlos by your side, it didn’t matter if another WAG wore an outfit more stylish than yours or their hair was fixed more perfectly because you had him. Carlos’ love and support were all you needed in that moment and reminded you that you were more than enough exactly as you were. 
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Note
Hey! I love your stuff!! Could you maybe do fem reader being insecure about how they look and the 141+ König comforting them?? Im sorry that I’m not giving you a lot of stuff to work with. And if you have already done something like this or feel uncomfortable doing it I 100% understand! I LOVEEE YOUU!!!🩷🩷
141 + König Comforting Insecure Reader
Warnings: swearing, mentions of insecurities, crying, mentions of poor body image, mentions of bullying
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Simon Ghost Riley-
"Love, are you ready to go?" Simon's voice called from outside your door. "Reservations at five and it takes us about twenty minutes to get there."
"Yeah, I'm almost ready." You replied regarding yourself in the mirror. You felt the pit in your stomach grow as you turned to the side, inspecting the way your outfit made your stomach look.
You weren't always self-conscious, Simon always had a way of making you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet, but lately you'd noticed you'd been gaining some weight, and really felt like it was starting to show.
Unbeknownst to Simon, you'd been at the mirror for the better part of the afternoon, trying on outfit after outfit, trying to find something you felt good in.
"Love is everything-" He stopped short in the doorway when he heard your sniffles.
You turned to him with tears running down your cheeks, unable to hold them in any longer. "I hate my body, Simon."
Simon's heart slowly broke as he absorbed your words, his eyes softening as they landed on yours. "Y/N."
"No, it's true. I can't find any outfits that fit right. My stomach just feels like it's blown up ten sizes overnight, I just.. I hate the way my body looks." A soft sob escaped your lips as you spoke, causing Simon to walk up behind you, placing his arms around you.
"Enough of that. You are so, so incredibly beautiful inside and out, sweetheart." He spoke as he pulled you into his chest. "Please don't pick yourself apart like that. You're beautiful no matter what you've got on. I especially favor you without clothes, but that's just me."
You turned swiftly, playfully slapping at Simon's chest. "Si, I'm serious!"
"So am I, sweetheart." He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever and will ever lay my eyes on. Nothing will change that."
"You mean that?"
"More than you will ever know. I know it's not easy to believe me, I've had my fair share of self-confidence issues, but love, you have no reason to be self-conscious." He got down on his knees in front of you and started to place various kisses across the length of your body.
"You're beautiful here. And here. And here." He murmured in between kisses before landing one on your tummy. "And most especially here."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"Y/N? Babe, are you okay?" Johnny called out as he searched the house trying to find you. The two of you were watching a movie together, and you'd dissaperwd nearly twenty minutes ago, claiming you needed to use the bathroom.
He walked into the bathroom and found you picking at yourself in the mirror, with tears streaming down your face.
He stood at the doorway and watched you for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you pick at the skin of your face. He knew of your insecurities when it came to your skin, but he'd truly thought it was something you'd overcome.
"Babe, what are you doing?" He asked, approaching you from behind.
"I had a sore pimple, and I just came to put some cream on it..and I.. I didn't realize how bad it is." You sniffled softly, letting your hands fall to your sides in defeat.
"How bad what is?"
"My skin, it's just, I wish I had smooth skin like everyone else. I can't get rid of these scars no matter how much I try, and every time I wake up, there's a new pimple, and I... I feel so ugly."
"Now you listen to me." Johnny's voice was stern, causing you to look up at him through the mirror. "I don't know where this is coming from, or why you'd possibly feel this way, but you are so, so fucking beautiful, Y/N. So what if your skin isn't like everyone else's, it makes you YOU."
"But-"
"No buts. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has imperfections, and they are what make you human. I love everything about you, sweetheart, down to the last little scar you've got on your cheek. I love all of it."
You hiccuped a sob and turned to throw your arms around your boyfriend. "Thank you, Johnny."
"No, thank YOU for being you, love." He picked you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Now if you really want to thank me, you'll come watch this damn movie and let me cuddle your beautiful ass while we do."
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John Price-
"Hey, I'd check on Y/N. There were some of those newer recruits harassing them earlier today." Kyle said, popping his head into his captians office.
John stood immediately, grabbing his hat as he made his way to your room. Fortunately for him your door was unlocked as he barged inside, only to find you in tears on your bed.
"What did they say?" John's tone was cold, and you could tell he was seething.
"What do you mean?" You asked, fiercely wiping away at your tears. You knew John knew, but were to embarrassed to talk about it.
"Y/N, honey, please tell me." He pleaded, kneeling in front of you.
You stayed quiet, your thoughts running rampant in your brain before you spoke up. "They were saying they don't know how someone like you is with someone like me and that I dont deserve to be on the team or deserve you."
"Look at me." He grabbed your chin gently, directing your gaze to him. "Those twats are just jealous of you. They've wanted on 141 for a while, and they were pissed you got the spot. None, and I mean none, of what they are saying is true."
"I can't help but let it get to me, John. I haven't felt good about myself in a while, and hearing that didn't help." Your eyes flickered down to your hands in front of you, as you fiddled with then nervously.
"Why on earth have you not felt good about yourself, babe? You are so stunning it hurts."
"I've gained weight, John, even you can't deny that. I got on the scale last night, and nearly broke down. I've never been this heavy before."
"The numbers that look back at you on the scale are just that. They are just numbers. They don't define you, love. You are a wonderful person inside and out, and anyone who doesn't see that can fuck right the hell off." He spoke gently before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I love you more than you'll ever know. Nothing will change that, especially not some stupid numbers on a scale or some petty recruits."
You threw your arms around him and let him hold you for some time, before pulling away. "I love you John."
"I love you too, always."
~
Later that week, John was elated as he got permission to lead a group of the newer recruits in a training seminar. When he found out the recruits who'd harrased you were a part of the group? Let's just say he didn't pull any punches during the training.
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
"Babe, the boys will be here any minute. Are you able to come help me in the kitchen?" Kyle asked poking his head into your shared bathroom.
You placed the straightener you were holding down on the counter and turned to Kyle with a sad smile. "Yeah, be there in a minute."
"Hey now, I know that look, what's up, kid?" His brows furrowed in concern as he walked over to you.
"I want to look good for you and your friends." You said, picking up the hair brush on the counter. You turned back to the mirror and started brushing at your hair aggressively.
"Sweetheart, who says you don't? You look as stunning as you do every day."
"My hair it just, I can't style it like how I want, it's just always a mess no matter what I do." You threw the brush you were holding down in frustration. "I don't feel pretty because of it."
"Babe, I love your hair." Kyle spoke, grabbing the brush off the floor. He moved you so that you were standing in front of him and began to brush at the strands of your hair softly.
"You have to say that, because you're my boyfriend."
"No, I don't. You and I both know I'm an honest man. I think your hair is beautiful, no matter what you do with it. Hell, you could shave it, and I'd look at you no differently than I already do."
"You mean it?" You asked, blinking away the tears.
"Of course I do, love. You're too hard on yourself, I promise you, you are so beautiful. If you want, if you really want to try out new hairstyles, why don't we look at pinterest or something to see about different ways to do your hair? I can help."
"I love you so much, Kyle." You turned around to grab the brush from his hands before placing a kiss on his lips.
"I love you too." He said pulling back with a smile. "By the way, the boys are your friends too."
"What?"
"The boys, you called them my friends. They love you just as much as they do me, if not more. They are your friends as well."
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König-
König awoke to the sound of muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he turned over to find your sleeping form absent from the bed.
"Schatz, what's wrong?" He asked as he shuffled into your shared bathroom. What he found had his heart tearing bit by bit.
You stood in front of the mirror in nothing but your undergarments, tears streaming down your face as you closely inspected the scars and marks littering your body. "I'm ugly, Kö. These marks make me hideous."
"Maus." He moved to stand next to you regarding you thoughtfully in the mirror. "Your marks are what make you beautiful. Each scar, each mark, tells a story, and I love each and every one of them."
"You don't have to say that, Kö. I know my body isn't perfect." Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Tears continued to fall down your cheeks as you looked back at the scars lining your skin. "I'm not perfect."
"Nobody is perfect, Maus, and if anyone were to be, it'd be you. I wish you saw what I do. I'd kill to have you see yourself through my eyes." He shuffled slightly to stand behind you as he leaned his head on yours. "Just as you told me when I was self-conscious about mine, the scars make us human, make us wholesome. Nobody is without them."
You gave him a small smile as you shook yourself before turning to him. "Thank you, Kö."
"You never have to thank me, Maus. I'm only speaking the truth."
You wrapped your arms around his med section and squeezed tightly. "Take me to bed?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: thanks for reading
2K notes · View notes
pxob · 1 year
Text
blossoming love
Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem!Reader
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Word count: 2695
Category: Friends to lovers, fluff, angst and comfort.
Warnings: Anxious reader and anxious habits, self-doubt, mentions of drinking, swearing and slightly suggestive.
a/n: i needed some comfort and love for myself.
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The room brimmed with a lively atmosphere as all the Hashira, including yourself, gathered to celebrate Shinazugawa's birthday. Carefree and unrestrained, laughter and camaraderie filled the air as everyone indulged in the revelry.
The aggressive clink of two ceramic sake glasses resonated through the tatami room.
"Another!" Rengoku's boisterous voice erupted, capturing the attention of those around him.
"Another, for fuck's sake—" Shinazugawa hiccupped, "round," he stumbled along his speech.
Shinazugawa's flushed cheeks added a touch of warmth to his typically hostile countenance, illuminating his features with a radiant glow, allowing glimpses of his true self to shine through.
A melodious voice called out your name, gently pulling you back to reality. "You're staring too hard," Kanroji crooned.
Startled, you blinked and refocused your attention, meeting Kanroji's captivating gaze. A warm smile graced her lips, as if she had caught you in a moment of silent admiration.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips.
Kanroji tilted her head, her expression resembling that of an adorable puppy seeking understanding. "You should tell him," she suggested, a gentle encouragement.
"No," you quickly replied, gathering your thoughts. Your hands were shaky, and you felt fidgety, you continued, "No, I don't think he sees me in that way, Kanroji-san." The words stumbled out.
Her gaze settled upon Shinazugawa, you followed her line of sight, eyes fixed on him. A pang of bittersweet longing surged through your heart, causing your breath to catch in your throat. The sight of him, with his radiant smile stretching across his face, was simply breathtaking. His scars, rather than diminishing his appeal, added a layer of rugged beauty to his features.
In that moment, his arms draped over Rengoku and Uzui, he joined them in a drunken chorus, slurring out musical lyrics. The three of them, cheered each other on with unabashed enthusiasm. It was a scene of uninhibited joy, yet within the depths of your being, a mix of admiration, longing, and a touch of envy intertwined.
Questions echoed in your mind, taunting your innermost doubts. When would you find the courage? When would you gather enough strength? Each time you attempted to reach out to Shinazugawa, the outcome remained the same—silence. His gaze would turn vacant, as if yearning to escape the situation, leaving you feeling disheartened and unsure of how to bridge the widening chasm between you two.
He also possessed an uncanny perceptiveness that astounded you. Shinazugawa had an innate ability to notice even the most subtle cues—an involuntary shake of your hands, the instinctive act of hiding them behind your back, the nervous swallow before speaking to him, and even the times you absentmindedly picked at your skin when your hands found solace in your pockets. Every anxious detail seemed to lay bare before his discerning eyes.
The keenness of his observation left you feeling diminished, as if your insecurities were laid bare for him to see. You longed to shed the burden of anxiety, to rid yourself of the constant unease that plagued your interactions. It was an inner struggle, an insecurity you yearned to overcome.
And whenever he mustered a response, his words stumbled and faltered, as if caught in a perpetual battle within his mind. Each syllable seemed carefully weighed, as if he were constantly revaluating the potential impact of his words on you.
Shinazugawa now pulled Tomioka, drawing him onto his chest. His expression appeared vacant, only willing to endure Shinazugawa's performance for the sake of his special night.
"All right, Shinazugawa, how about we play a little game?" Uzui suggested, his voice laced with mischief. His eyes swept across the room, ensuring he had captured everyone's attention. A wide grin adorned his face.
"Go on, before you bore me," Shinazugawa retorted.
"You have two choices," Uzui declared. "Either you take five shots, or you answer my question." Uzui’s gaze then shifted directly to you, accompanied by a sly wink, leaving you momentarily taken aback.
Shinazugawa didn't miss Uzui’s flirtatious gesture, his sharp eyes catching every detail, "Ask the fucken’ question."
As soon as you were certain that the attention had shifted away from you, you addressed Kanroji. "Kanroji-san, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the toilet," you whispered politely.
With all discreetness, you slipped through the slightly ajar door, seeking a momentary respite. Unconsciously, you took a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding. As you stepped into the hallway, your attention was immediately caught by a fragment of Uzui’s question to Shinazugawa.
“Why do you not tell her how you feel?”
You choked; a glimmer of hope seeped through your body.
You shook your head, coming to realisation that it was best not to dwell on the possibilities any longer and protect yourself. With that in mind, you proceeded to walk away towards the gardens, where the night was at its peak.
As you tottered through the hallway, you could hear the gasps and muffled bewildered comments thrown at Shinazugawa's answer to Uzui’s question.
After a while, you arrived at the lush gardens. Despite the absence of sunlight, the vibrant colours of the flowers and foliage seemed to emanate a soft glow under the gentle moonlight. The tranquillity of the surroundings provided a stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere indoors.
A sense of calm enveloped you, gently washing away the unease that had once gripped your heart. Like the receding tides of the ocean, your worries dissipated, leaving behind a newfound serenity.
As you strolled beneath the stunning Sakura tree, its delicate blossoms in full bloom, you couldn't help but be captivated by the breathtaking sight. The vibrant pink petals adorned the branches, creating a scene of sheer beauty and peace.
You found a comfortable spot underneath the tree, settling into a seat amidst the scattered fallen petals. Gently, you picked up a few of the delicate blossoms, allowing their velvety touch to grace your fingertips. As you marvelled at their fragile beauty, a poignant realisation struck you—you, too, were like those petals, vulnerable and delicate in your own way.
Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you found yourself struggling to fully register your surroundings. However, the distinct sound of gravel crunching beneath footsteps snapped you back to attention. It reverberated through the air, deliberate and unapologetic, as if the person behind it wanted to make their presence known.
Alternatively, it was their drunken state causing them to carelessly tread upon the gravel without concern.
You turned your head, your heart racing as the crunch of gravel grew louder.
"Shinazugawa-san?" you said, bewildered.
He came to a halt right in front of you, and a mix of nervousness washed over you. Your gaze remained fixed downward, hesitant to meet his eyes. The fear of potential humiliation loomed, as you wondered if he would unleash his usual biting remarks and cruel words that he often directed towards others.
Surprisingly, he had never treated you in such a manner before, but you couldn't help but entertain the possibility that this time might be different.
"Thanks for bein' here today," his voice devoid of any slurring, indicating that he was surprisingly sober.
You mustered the courage to respond, "It's a privilege to be able to attend this gathering, Shinazugawa-san.”
He released a weary sigh and settled down beside you, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree. "Why are ya so formal?" he asked.
Feeling your hands tremble slightly, you instinctively clasped them together, hoping to conceal any visible signs of nervousness. Your gaze averted, you hoped that his perceptive eyes wouldn't catch the faint tremor.
"Sorry," you blurted out.
He shifted his face, turning it towards your line of sight, his eyes meeting yours. "Hey," he said, his voice surprisingly soft, “You don't needa' be sorry."
"How was your birthday, Shinazugawa-san?" you inquired, deliberately shifting the conversation away from the previous subject.
He paused for a moment, contemplating your question before responding. "It'll be better soon," he replied.
"Since you'll be rid of my company," you unintentionally blurted out, the words escaping your lips before you had a chance to filter them. You hastily clasped a hand over your mouth.
A silence seemed to settle over the entire garden, as if time itself had paused. Shinazugawa's gaze fixed upon you. Your hand remained pressed against your mouth, trembling.
In that stillness, he reached out with gentle care, taking hold of your wrist. With a tender touch, he guided your hand down, slowly lowering it from your mouth. It felt as delicate as the blossoms that perfectly surrounded the two of you.
"You didn't hear then?" he asked.
As his words registered in your mind, you quickly grasped that he was likely alluding to his answer to Uzui’s earlier question. Your head instinctively shook slightly.
"Well, would ya like to know?" he delicately offered.
You couldn't help but gaze at him, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a touch of hope. With a whisper that carried a gentle vulnerability, you responded, "Yes."
His eyes softened, a subtle transformation that sent a cascade of emotions through your being. Your heart skipped a beat, as if it had momentarily forgotten its steady rhythm. The sight before you was breathtaking — Shinazugawa, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, sat beneath the blooming sakura tree, a vision of captivating beauty.
"I told ‘em that she was too precious," his hand gently held onto your wrist, his fingers tracing the delicate contours, searching for the quick rhythmic dance of your pulse.
"That I can't bear the thought of taintin’ her being with my scarred body, mind, and soul." His voice quivered with a hint of self-doubt.
"She’s the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my entire life," he confessed. His fingers continued to trace your pulse, as if he sought solace in its booming beat.
"And so fucken’ delicate, kind, and caring," he murmured, his touch and words intertwining.
It felt like a dream, one of those elusive visions that often danced through your slumber, filling your heart with both hope and despair. In those dreams, you would immerse yourself in a world where such tender confessions and heartfelt connections existed, only to wake and face the crushing disappointment of their impossibility.
"And," he paused for a moment, his gaze tenderly fixed on your face, "ya have the cutest smile." His voice held a mixture of adoration, as if he was genuinely captivated by the mere thought of your smile.
Your eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. A hint of incredulity coloured your voice as you responded, "Shinazugawa-san, you’re drunk."
"No," he whispered, his voice filled with conviction, as he gently brought your wrist towards his lips. The soft touch of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine. With a tenderness that took your breath away, he pressed his lips against the spot where your pulse beat the strongest, leaving a lingering warmth in its wake.
"I'm in love," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tears welled up in your eyes, brimming with a mix of overwhelming emotions. A choked sob escaped from the depths of your soul, a raw and unfiltered release of the pent-up feelings that had been hidden for far too long. It was a moment of catharsis, a floodgate opening to allow the weight of your emotions to pour forth.
Your wrist was gently pulled towards him, causing your body to sway and find its place against his sturdy chest. The warmth emanating from his body enveloped you, offering a sense of comfort and security. In the hushed stillness of the moment, his voice carried a tender whisper, as if sharing a secret meant for your ears alone.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his words mingling with the soft breeze that rustled through the garden.
As his warm breath caressed your ear, a delicate shiver coursed through your entire being, a poignant reminder of the electrifying connection that bound your souls together. Surprisingly, amidst the intoxicating moment, the lingering scent of sake was clearly absent.
With a tenderness that belied his usual demeanour, he gently peeled your face away from his chest, his hands cupping each side of your face with a feather-light touch. The pads of his thumbs daintily brushed away the remnants of tears that stained your cheeks, erasing the evidence of your vulnerability.
“So fucken’ beautiful,” he praised. Each affectionate comment washed away the doubt that plagued your overwhelming mind.
He lowered his head with utmost gentleness, his lips barely grazing your forehead in a tender kiss. As he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, you felt a sense of belonging that resonated deep within your soul.
Nestled against his solid chest, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a rhythmic lullaby that whispered of love and devotion.
“I thought you hated me,” you quietly admitted.
"Never," he whispered, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace. "You," his voice softened, carrying a tenderness that melted your heart, "ya have a way of charmin’ me, makin’ me speechless."
A shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he admitted, "So cute that I find myself at a loss for words sometimes.” In that moment, you realised that his silence was not a reflection of indifference or apathy, but rather a testament to the profound impact you had on him.
His admission brought a blush to your cheeks, the realisation that your presence had the power to disarm even the most guarded parts of him.
A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you hastily pulled yourself away from his chest, creating a small gap between the two of you. Shinazugawa looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "What?" he asked, his voice filled with intrigue.
Your gaze flickered towards his lips, an undeniable longing pulsating within you. It was a desire you had kept hidden for far too long, yearning to feel the softness of his lips against every inch of your skin. With a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth, you raised a finger, gently tracing its tip along his plush, inviting lips.
A faint shiver ran down his spine as your touch grazed his skin, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes locked onto yours, the air around you seemed charged with an electric energy, a silent invitation hanging between you.
With a gentle yet undeniable pull, you closed the distance between you, your finger falling to your side. Your lips met his in a delicate and tender kiss, a collision of pent-up emotions and shared longing. Time seemed to stand still as the warmth of his lips pressed against yours, igniting a fire within your souls.
In that stolen moment of connection, you revelled in the softness of his kiss, the way his lips moulded perfectly against yours. It was a dance of vulnerability and desire, a silent proclamation of the love that had blossomed between you. Each brush of his lips against yours spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture.
As you finally pulled away, a soft smile played upon your lips, your eyes locked with his. The taste of his kiss still lingered upon your lips, intertwining with the warmth that filled your heart.
"Happy birthday, Sanemi," you whispered.
Sanemi's eyes softened, he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch filled with tenderness. "Thank you," he replied, his voice a gentle murmur. "You're the best gift I coulda’ received."
The garden around you, adorned with blossoming flowers, appeared even more vibrant and alive. The world seemed to celebrate your union, as if whispering its blessings upon the love that had taken root between you.
Hand in hand, you walked back towards the joyful gathering, the echoes of laughter and celebration growing louder with each step. As you returned to the festivities, your hearts entwined, you knew that this birthday would forever be etched in your memories as the start of a beautiful and transformative chapter in both your lives.
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1K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
Note
I have fallen deep down the mortal kombat rabbit hole and I have no intention of climbing out. Could you possibly write a smoke x reader where she can sense that Bi-Han will betray them before the mission the brothers go on and she and smoke get in a big fight about it. When they reunite she isn't even angry about the fight at seeing how heartbroken he is? Just lots of fluff at the end. You're amazing!
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Needless to say you never trust Bi-Han, you couldn’t explain why but you just couldn’t bring yourself to trust the guy. The ice cold man always looked as though he was on the verge of betraying his own kin if it meant ascending himself and the Lin Kuei to a higher position of power. Bi-Han was always a condescending fucker in your eyes, who took great pleasure in reminding Tomas that his blood wasn’t ever Lin Kuei on a consistent basis; A statement of which you found as stupid as it was harmful.
Ounce upon a time Tomas looked up to Bi-Han but upon realising that the cryomancer wanted nothing to do with him, never less ever return the gesture, Tomas would then look for what he wanted from Bi-Han in Kuai Liang instead. Now Kuai Liang on the other hand was nothing like his brother, he was warm in not only abilities but in personality also. The best way you could go about describing Kuai Liang was that he was akin to that of a cozy fireplace, one where you could comfortably cuddled up with a loved one when cold and in need of respite.
You were happy that Tomas had finally came to his senses and -in your opinion- began looking up to the better brother, seeing as how Kuai Liang didn’t hesitate in treating Tomas as though he was his own flesh and blood, even going so far as to openly remind him that despite not actually being blood related; he was still his brother through and through. You could easily tell that was what Tomas had always wanted to hear come from Bi-Han’s mouth just from the way his eyes glossed over, as though he were on the verge of crying and the way he tried to fight back a wide smile, for Kuai Liang had single-handedly put to rest every insecurity that had burdened him since being taken into the Lin Kuei.
And you couldn’t be happier for him and be eternally grateful for Kuai Liang for doing what Bi-Han actively chose not to out of pride and self righteousness.
So when Tomas had informed you that him and his brothers were setting off to stop Shang Tsung, you felt a sense of unease overcome you, an itch you couldn’t scratch. They may leave as brothers but you had a gut feeling that only two would come back, broken by inevitable betrayal. Naturally you wanted to warn both Tomas and Kuai Liang about your assumption without Bi-Han nearby to eavesdrop, firmly believing the cryomancer to have all the plausible motivators for deception; After all he thinks that the Lin Kuei has become a ghost of it’s former self, a subservient laughing stock and wanted nothing more then to restore it’s rightful purpose, even if that meant betraying all he had been raised to uphold.
Without sparing a single second, you rushed to Tomas as to warn him, only for him to believe that you were instead spreading lies.
‘You think Bi-Han is going to betray myself and Kuai Liang?!’ Tomas asked in disbelief. ‘I can’t exactly put me trust in your assumptions when he has never shown signs of ever betraying us, betraying tradition.’ Apparently Tomas’ loyalty to his brothers knew no bounds, even if one of them in particular had treated him like shit throughout his entire life. It truly baffled you as to why he bothered defending a man who’d feed him to the wolves at any given moment. ‘Then signs all point towards him throwing away the values, upon which the Lin Kuei were founded upon by your father.’ You deliberately pointed out to him.
‘So of course i would firmly put trust into my own assumptions because they’ve never once proven me wrong, Tomas. Bi-Han can and will betray you and Kuai Liang.’ You finished but upon seeing his unchanging stance, you knew that your rebuttal was getting nowhere through to Tomas. It hurt not having him believe you, not even a little bit, but you had to keep trying and make him see reason, so you continued. ‘Bi-Han is growing ambitious and is more than willing to forsake tradition for a shot at gaining power, just so that the Lin Kuei may never be under anyone’s foot ever again. Don’t you see Tomas?’ You stepped towards him, watching his every expression morph into one of anger, hurt and denial. He knew you were right but was just too scared to admit that such a thing could be possible.
‘Under Bi-Han’s rule the Lin Kuei will be seen as a threat. He’ll become a tyrant of his own making.’ You were just about to place your hands upon his arms when Tomas took a step back, retching himself from your grasp, causing the hurt to strike itself even further into your heart.
‘You know nothing about my brother.’ Tomas snapped, something he very rarely did. ‘So don’t go pretending that you know him better then I do, like you know his character and then go and boldly accuse him of high treason just because you had a hunch. I’d much rather prefer you admit that you disliked Bi-Han and left it at that.’ Tomas then looked at you with utter disgust before showing you his back. ‘But I guess that too much of a tall ask. I’m going on that mission, and when I get back I don’t want you waiting for me, I want you gone.’ He said before then making his exit out the room, leaving you no opportunity to speak as you then collapsed onto the floor, placing your hand where your heart lied within you; desperate to stop it from shattering as you silently wept.
‘I’m sorry Tomas but I am not leaving until til I know you’re okay.’ You whispered before leaving the room yourself and headed off to bed to sleep the away the disaster that had been today…
‘You we’re right. Bi-Han betrayed us. Kuai Liang confined in me that he even admitted to willingly letting our father die.’ Tomas was happy that you didn’t actually leave, he knew you wouldn’t but some part of him had thought that you would’ve tempted the idea, given how horrid he had treated you. He wouldn’t even blame you if he had came back to a cold and empty home, he truly didn’t deserve you, not even a little bit. If he could go back and smack some sense into himself and tell him to put more faith in you and your words he would, but he guessed that was the whole point to life. ‘I’m sorry.’ Tomas said as he looked towards you with his sad puppy eyes. ‘I should’ve listened to you but instead i dismissed you and said some things that you should never say to a loved one. There’s no excuse for how I acted but I can only hope that in due time you’ll come to forgive me.’
Whilst furious as you were that he didn’t listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to express your disappointment, you did not want to kick him when he’s already down. ‘It’s nice of you to acknowledge when you’re wrong, but i must admit that I too am sorry for the way I acted during our fight.’ Tomas furrowed his brows as he placed one of his hands onto yours, squeezing it. ‘What do you mean? Everything you’ve said about Bi-Han was proven true. He was an ambitious tyrant who was biding his time to show his true colours.’ He then sighed, bowing his head before muttering under his breath. ‘He even gave Kuai Liang a scar as a reminder of his deceit.’ The way the words left his mouth, so full of venom and unbridled anger was enough to tell you that Tomas felt partially responsible for Bi-Han’s betrayal.
Even though he wasn’t here to torment him, Bi-Han still found a way to get inside Tomas’ head and you fucking hated it. However you managed to kept yourself composed for this wasn’t about you, but instead about Tomas and comforting him. ‘You didn’t know any better and you were defending your brother like any good sibling should.’ You told him, grasping onto his hand tightly. ‘Admittedly I had crossed the line, forgetting how closely you held Kuai Liang and Bi-Han to your chest. They’re your family and I went ahead and insulted that, all because I had grown worried for you and Kuai Liang. So much so that I had forgotten that Bi-Han is your brother too.’
‘Was.’
You looked at Tomas, who was staring straight forwards now. ‘Bi-Han was my brother but not anymore.’
‘You don’t mean that Tomas.’ You uttered softly, reaching a free hand out to grasp the side of his face and gently guided his head so that he was looking at you. ‘I do’ he told you, tired eyes looking deep into your own. ‘For all I’m aware Bi-Han is dead to me. I don’t understand why he would do such a thing, why he would betray tradition, betray us, his own brothers!’ At this point Tomas had begun sobbing and without missing a beat, you held him tightly into your chest as his strong arms held you in place, holding on ever tighter despite your hushed whispers of never leaving him. You continued to stroke his hair as his voice- while muffled- kept saying things along the lines of, ‘Why?’ Or ‘Why did you do it Bi-Han?’ Yet the longer this continued for the more you heard things along the lines of, ‘Was it something I did?’ But the one that broke your heart the most was; ‘Was I not a good enough brother for you?’
You remained silent through it all, only wanting for Tomas to release everything that had had been wanting to say to Bi-Han for a very long time. You even pressed a couple of kisses to his hair as to remind him that you were with him no matter how rough the road ahead looked. You didn’t care whether you had fights in the future because that was a natural part of life, you’re not always going to get along or stay in the honeymoon period forever; you’re both humans who had flaws, how had tempers, who had moments of weakness and vulnerability but that’s the beauty of being human. You may wish to take away all of Tomas’ pain but you also come to realise that he must experience pain to overcome it.
Which he would, you thought to yourself as you continued to soothingly rub his broad back, kiss his face and head whilst whispering words of comfort into his ear as his arms continued to tighten their hold on your waist, afraid that you might disappear on him. ‘I’m not going anywhere Tomas, not now, not ever.’ You reminded him as he pulled his head away from your chest, red eyed and with tear streaked cheeks.
‘You mean that?’ He croaked, desperate to hear you say that you’ll never leave him, he needed you in his time of need, he quite literally needed you to properly function at this point.
‘Yes.’ You replied without an ounce of hesitation before pressing your head up against his, feeling his uneven breaths brush against your face. ‘You’re safe with me Tomas. I promise, we’ll get our revenge on Bi-Han for all that he has done to you and Kuai Liang, his deeds won’t go unpunished.’
‘I love you.’ Tomas said sweetly, making you smile for the first time that night.
‘I love you too Tomas.’ You replied in kind, watching as his face visibly relaxed from your words, his eyes fluttered shut as a small smile graced his lips. For a man who had been crying just moments earlier, he sure as hell looked ethereal in his brief happiness. Now if only you could make that happiness last for a lifetime.
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delirious-donna · 8 months
Text
A Spider's Web [Geto Suguru]
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an: an entire rework of a story written way back in '22. I've changed a few things and tightened it up a little more. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm into Suguru or not... he is very compelling.
pairing: Geto Suguru x female reader
warnings: dark content, kinda yandere Suguru, corruption, abuse of power, doctor/patient relationship, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, handjob, messy first blowjob, pussy fingering, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cumshot, cum eating
Masterlist
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Depraved, vile and manipulative–all accurate. Suguru should feel some semblance of shame, or at the very least guilt, but not even an ounce of it existed in the twisted labyrinth of his mind. 
He was well aware of the superiority complex that plagued him, which was why he had found himself in the medical field and was the reason his private practice was considered the top in his specialty. Geto Suguru was considered the best psychiatrist in the city, perhaps even one of the top in the country.
From his position of power, Dr Geto should be helping you overcome your issues in a healthy, sustainable manner as he did for his other clients, but instead, he was trying to use your insecurities to crawl inside your pants.
Depraved.
A thick finger dragged across the loose-leaf papers that made up your file, eyeing the snapshot of your shy face that was clipped to your introductory questionnaire. He smiled at how you made reluctant eye contact with the camera, a camera his secretary had held aloft in the sanctity of the waiting room whilst he watched from the doorway to his office.
You were the perfect embodiment of a people pleaser, a diagnosis he had made within the first two minutes of meeting you. A meek flower that would only open like an exquisite rare bloom under certain conditions and Suguru was more than a little obsessed.
It was child’s play to identify the toxic trait in himself, the dark urge within his psyche that drove him forward and overrode the sane part of his brain that warned him to stop. To stop before he took it too far, stop before he did something he might regret.
It was too late for that.
The second he had checked out your social media pages, he had edged his toe over the line of professional decency; after that, he had tumbled headfirst down the rabbit hole and there would be no saving him.
He knew all the people you called friends, and the family members that you worked so hard to keep in touch with despite how sick it made you feel when that enthusiasm wasn’t reciprocated. More so, he took note of the men who were desperately trying to pursue you even though your complete naivety towards them and their attempts kept them at bay. 
Of course, you spoke about many of them in your weekly sessions, but you didn’t know that he had clicked on every profile available to him. Admired the photos and saved his favourites on his personal computer. Dr Geto had an entire file on you that had nothing to do with your patient file…
Fisting his cock he pumped in steady but quick pulls, tugging himself closer to the brink of ecstasy whilst he imagined you kneeling beneath his desk. Batting those innocent doe eyes as if you didn’t know how fucking pretty you were. Wearing those perfectly decent, ‘I’m a good girl’ skirts and always ensuring you tucked the material tight against your thighs when you sat on his plush couch.
Would your skin burn with heat when your lips wrapped around his swollen tip? Would you grimace at the salty taste of his arousal on your tongue? 
Vile.
Suguru’s head rolled against the head support of his chair at the thought. The idea that he might convince you to relieve the sinful ache in his heavy balls was a heady one. The product of weeks of planting the seedling and watering it with more and more inappropriate chat and suggestions.
There were only minutes until your session was scheduled to begin, it was a race against the clock. A sprint finish to release the demons burning their hellfire in his soul and to ensure that he remained merciful for at least another week. 
It had become a game to him, this little charade of fucking into his fist mere minutes before you arrived to quell his desire to see you broken by his will. He could do it, it would be nothing to him and that was why he had to deter those whims. He pictured the filthy acts he would coerce you into doing with the faintest shift in his tone and that was enough–for now–it had to be enough.
Suguru rocked backwards, a slight squeak from his desk chair and his hips drove up to meet his hand. His palm twisted atop his weeping cockhead, and his sensitive skin twitched from the sensation. He was so close. He bit down on his lip until there was a tang of iron on his tongue, all whilst an image of your tear-filled eyes flitted across his mind's eye. 
The intercom on his desk blared to life and midnight eyes snapped open in an angry startle. The breathy voice of his sickly sweet and simpering receptionist announced your arrival and he cursed beneath his breath. Fuck!
Ire exploded through his body, filling him with potent venom as he tucked himself back into his pants and fixed himself to hide the painful erection. Growling the instruction to send you in, he cleaned his hands and threw the used tissue into the trash. He knew that events would not unfold well for you today, this extra session that you had implored him was absolutely necessary earlier in the week was about to turn into something altogether wicked and it was your fault…
Manipulative.
You couldn’t deny how a sense of calm descended upon you the very moment you stepped into the softly lit office. The smile of the receptionist was genuine, the abundance of plant life in the waiting area and the low melody of music settled your nerves just as you had hoped.
Dr Geto was a genius, a prophet, a God.
His every word, you hung upon with a fascination worthy of a disciple. You had a crush on your psychiatrist–no–that wasn’t right. This was no crush, it was a deep infatuation and there was no cure. The real problem was that you didn’t recognise that you were obsessed with the clever man and that made things all the more dangerous.
Sure, he was attractive.
A little older than you were but he maintained a youthful physique and there was not a single line or wrinkle on his sharp, angular face.
You had often wondered if his hair would feel as soft and silky as it looked, the vast length more often than not tucked up into a top knot and you itched to touch it one day–to run your fingers through it even.
Yet, what attracted you most was the brain behind the looks, the insights and the words of advice that always hit their mark. Dr Geto was a genius and you revered him as a God.
The problem was, that he knew it...
Why did you need this extra session? You stumbled to remember the hastily fumbled words from the telephone conversation earlier this week. Something about your manager, something clearly trivial if you had already forgotten but you were happy to see your handsome doctor so soon after your last visit.
There was a sense of something different in the air this dark stormy afternoon. Rain lashed the windows that lined his snug office, the vibrant orange leaves of fall dulled by a persistent gloom that fell over the skies like a heavy woollen blanket. Even the eyes that observed you when you entered his room seemed distant, unattached and cool.
It made you frown. Your lips tugged down in one fell swoop and a lead weight filled your stomach. You failed to notice that your frown had brought a hint of a smile to his lips, those sweeping lines curved into something sinister but you were too busy trying to figure out how to lift his mood to realise that you were already doing so.
The normal routine of your session began in earnest, recapping the last visit and going over the small tasks he had assigned as ‘homework’ along with the results and observations. 
Speaking to Dr Geto was always nerve-wracking, you worried you’d say something wrong, that he’d think you dumb or inept but you stumbled on because he wanted you to. Everything that you did, every word or confession you spilt and every action you took outside of his office was a direct response to his wishes. 
Sure, it was meant to be for your benefit but the euphoria that laced your blood when he offered a genuinely pleased smile was enough to make you feel drunk. The biggest rush of endorphins filled your head when you received that hit of pleasure from his happiness, but that was the problem. You should be finding pleasure in your happiness and not in others. Wasn’t that one of the reasons you had started therapy?
“Why are you here today?” He asked and the abruptness of the question knocked you sideways. Your fingers twisted into the pleats of your skirt, inadvertently raising the hem and gifting your dutiful doctor a rare glimpse of the tops of your thighs.
“I-I don’t really remember the reason, it seemed so crucial at the time but now that I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time, aren’t I?”
It was a statement you made with alarming regularity, never believing yourself to be worthy of someone’s time and attention even when you were paying for it. You expected the normal reassurance that he was here for you, that you were his patient and he was in no way imposed by your requirements, but it didn’t come.
“Yes, it seems that way.” His cheek rested against his fist, a mean smile dancing on his lips despite the air of stiff indifference surrounding him and it sent you reeling. 
Reeling to fix your mistake, to please him, to make it so that you weren’t wasting his time. Anxiety turned your blood icy, the slosh of it burning your veins and bringing tears to your eyes. This was your worst nightmare come true. You were a burden. A troublesome woman who couldn’t go two minutes without reassurance.
The wobble of your bottom lip and the way your fingers fidgeted quicker and quicker in your lap, it was enough to make him want to push you back against the sunshine-yellow couch you sat upon. To pull you down and straddle your chest just to watch your eyes turn wide when he pressed his aching cockhead against those plump, wobbly lips.
Schooling his features, Suguru sighed—deep and heavy—his eyes stared towards the ceiling whilst he did his best to ignore the pitiful display you were putting on. The wringing of your hands and your knees that bashed into one another as you squirmed like a worm caught on a hook. It was an apt metaphor, he certainly was baiting you, you simply didn’t know it.
“Funny isn’t it?”
“What is?” you squeaked in response, your voice high and needy.
A finger idly traced the open page of the notebook he always held on the arm of his chair. He waited until your gaze fell on his wandering digit. Snaring your attention with the slow methodical movement, as if he were tracing lines of text when in reality the page was naked.
“Hm… this persistent need to please others, the desire that you feel to ensure that everyone else is happy even at your own expense, and you don’t show me the same courtesy. Me your ever-dutiful doctor.”
“I-I don’t—” you managed to stammer, floundering in your thoughts. You silenced abruptly when the man you usually looked up to as a genius snapped his fingers.
“I am still talking and you are listening,” he stated coolly. 
He paused for a second, testing to make sure you understood. “Not only are you encroaching on an afternoon that I had planned to keep free, but you are also five minutes early and I didn’t get to finish.”
Every synapse in your brain fired at full tilt, scrambling for context clues as to what he possibly could mean by ‘didn’t get to finish’. What on earth could that possibly mean?
Your heart sank into your toes. Your eyes swivelled the width of his office but nothing seemed out of place. The space was uncluttered as usual, only then did you notice the open manila folder on his desk, a photo that appeared oddly familiar barely visible from this angle.
“It’s your file, I was perusing the contents before I was so rudely interrupted,” Dr Geto explained, noticing your squinting eyes and the crane of your neck towards his desk. Somehow the word ‘perusing’ did not sound as innocent as it should and you squirmed further in your seat.
“Should I go?” you asked timidly, yet every part of you screamed to stay. You would be miserable if you were to leave here with things unresolved, with someone unhappy with you–how unthinkable!
The good doctor smirked behind his hand, eyes remaining cool and unreadable as he fixed them on your agitated posture. If he asked you to kneel on the floor and then roll over like an obedient puppy, you would do it without question. It was a euphoric feeling, the power he wielded over you, and his tongue swiped a path across his lower lip in anticipation. The heaviness in his balls urged him onward, but this was not something to be rushed, he would savour corrupting you wholly.
Ignoring your pathetic question, he posed his own. “Tell me, have you ever orgasmed from sex? Did you stop seeing that man we discussed previously?”
You slouched on the couch, fingers still nervously fidgeting and your brow lowered whilst you attempted to keep up with this erratic session. It was like nothing you had ever experienced, but you couldn’t help but bask in the knowledge that he remembered discussing your ex, even though it was his job to do so.
“Uh, well… no. Never with someone, but I don’t know what that has—”
His teeth clicked in annoyance, a warning shot in your direction, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “I’ll be the one asking the questions, and I don’t believe you’ve answered one of them…”
“I'm not seeing him anymore,” you murmured into your chest.
That’s what he wanted to hear, the unfettered joy that burst in his chest at that knowledge only adds fuel to the fire raging in his mind. No one other than he should be allowed the divine right to your pleasure, that was his job and he wanted to praise you. To tell you what a good girl you were for listening to his advice. Advice that had been for your benefit, if you squinted, but was more a selfish desire of his own.
Suguru’s already straining cock thickened upon hearing the news, the expensive slacks digging against his sensitive shaft and he wanted badly to release some of his pent-up frustration and discomfort.
“Come here,” he demanded with the merest flick of his finger. His voice softened, a reward for your answers and for following his guidance. You were so very affected by speech and he adored that about you.
You were a foal walking for the very first time as you stood and took the three shaky steps it took to stand before his chair. Under the change in his tone, you bloomed, heat caressed your smooth skin and he let a low hum of appreciation puff through his lips.
Dressed in his usual black pants and black dress shirt, you tried not to admire his physique but it was an impossible feat. He was your psychiatrist, it was not okay to lust after a man who was a care provider as well as being likely a man with a loving partner at home–not that you had ever dared to ask. 
Shocked was a pale comparison to how you felt when the man shrouded in the shadow of your body, slid his hands to the belt around his waist. He unbuckled it with deft fingers which you watched in riveted fascination whilst your nerves ratcheted up to a new level of anxiety.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Showing you my cock, little one. I know you’ve seen one before. That you’ve felt one between your legs. You told me that man made you touch him, didn’t he?”
The words were said so matter of factly, as if this were some standard practice and for a brief moment you wondered if it was and that you were the one being weird for freaking out. How twisted around his pinky finger you were…
He sighed when the cool air kissed his weeping cockhead, the relief of freeing himself from the pressure of his clothes was intense and he gave one lazy pump of his length whilst he waited for your reaction.
Your eyes were as big and round as dinner plates, transfixed by his cock and that only stroked his ego further. The angry purple tip looked almost painful, veins thick and stark on his tawny skin and the weight of him pulled his dick down to smack against his thigh.
“Dr Geto…”
“Suguru. Right here and now, I’d like for you to call me Suguru. Do you understand?”
Blinking rapidly, your gaze rose from the sight of what could only be described as a fearsome-looking cock, and met eyes of potent liquorice. You tested the name in your head, Suguru, it sounded so fitting and at long last, you knew his given name and had been given–no–commanded to use it.
“Su-Suguru.” Despite the stammer, it sounded like perfection to his ear. He couldn’t wait to hear it from your sweet lips when he made you cry it out in ecstasy. He’d purr like a contented cat, and he would but later.
“Good girl,” he soothed. His free hand coiled around your wrist, tugging it away from the pleats of your skirt but his motions were gentle, testing.
“Did you fist his cock like this? Did you feel how hot and heavy the skin down here is? How the veins pulse as a man nears his peak?”
Your head shook, once then again.
In truth, you had been afraid that your then-boyfriend would be mad at you. Only giving the most cursory of touches to his far less impressive dick before he had taken over and you had simply watched. It had been fascinating at the time, and yet you hadn’t felt the inclination to join in. It was the same during intercourse, you were a participant but never felt actively there. There was no lack of consent to speak of, but a piece of you had remained locked behind an iron gate, unable to enjoy the act and only faking the noises you had heard from lacklustre porn.
Suguru pointed to the spot on the floor between his thighs, spreading himself wider in the chair and rolling his hips forward. You were kneeling before you even realised you were complying with the silent order, every inch of you shivered in anticipation of what he was going to do next.
Thick midnight hair fell most beautifully, the top knot pulled free and his hair draped over his shoulders. Transfixed by the lopsided grin and the calculating eyes that held you fast, you hadn’t noticed that he was wrapping your fingers around his erection.
Heat, heavy and decadent seared your palm. You gasped at how velvety soft his skin felt under your touch, how prominent the veins were against your fingertips and how he twitched when you tightened your grip almost involuntarily. 
Suguru fought against his desire to let his head drop back, for his neck to roll against the back of his chair at the simple act of you touching him like he had envisaged a million times prior. With his lower lip trapped by his teeth, he helped you find a slow rhythm. Giving you ample opportunity to explore him like he was some intriguing science experiment.
Dark laughter rumbled from his chest when you gasped at the sensation of the sticky silver strands that leaked from his slick-coated tip to your fingers. It was the first sign of you stopping, perhaps coming to your senses that this shouldn’t be happening and he couldn’t have that.
“You'll taste it, won't you?” he grunted with a pout on his lips, daring you to even consider disobeying his wish. He was a monster for acting like this, to make you think you were bad for not considering his happiness.
You did indeed grimace at the bitter taste, two fingers pressed down on your pretty pink tongue and sampled the arousal that continued to leak from him in pearled beads. 
The longer you savoured his unique flavour, the more you grew accustomed to it. Certainly, it wasn’t some delicious taste but saliva pooled in your mouth, ropes of it connected your lips and fingers until they broke apart like spider webs under too much tension.
“You’ve no idea how damn attractive you are. I can barely stop myself from forcing those pretty lips open with my cock, to fuck that cute mouth until you’re gagging on it.”
Big doe eyes were his reward, your entire posture straightened as if you were lit up from his words, lewd though they may be. His hand stroked at the back of your head, brain running a mile a minute as he changed tack and fixed you with another slight pout.
“You’ll take care of me, won’t you, little one? My good girl is always so willing to make me happy. That’s it, baby. Just… like… that. Fuck.”
He guided your head down as he spoke, bending you to his will with effortless ease. Your mouth parted much like he knew your thighs would do soon enough and he groaned in delight the very second his aching tip grazed against a tentative silken tongue. 
As much as he might want to see you ruined, mascara tracks down your cheeks mingled with fat tears, that would have to wait for another time. If he pushed too much you’d run and where would the fun be in that? He wished to corrupt you, sure, but he wasn’t prepared to downright force you if you were unwilling. 
It appeared that Dr Geto had some semblance of morals after all, twisted though they might be.
You’d seen this act performed in porn and knew the mechanics of how it worked but it was quite different participating. Mere minutes into your first-ever blowjob and your jaw ached. Saliva escaped the sides of your mouth, and loud slurping noises made your skin heat up as your watery eyes strayed up.
His gaze was hooded, lips parted with pants of air passing through them every few seconds. When he locked eyes with you, he licked those devilish lips with a feline smile offered along with a soft groan.
“Oh, my darling girl, you’re a natural. Don’t fight it, relax. Let me feel your throat.” The praise was hissed through clenched teeth.
You fought down the instinct to reject the intrusion as it neared your throat, the muscles worked furiously and caused you to gag around him.
Shifting on your knees in discomfort, you blinked, letting the tears fall from your eyes. You gripped the base of his cock, squeezing roughly and heard him curse under his breath from the pressure. The nails from your free hand found purchase in the expensive material covering his thigh and bunched it in your frantic grip.
“Fuck. Oh, sweet fucking Jesus. Sweetheart, stop. That is enough!”
Suguru was practically yelling as he ripped your mouth from his saliva-drenched cock, the wet disconnect of your concaved cheeks followed by your rasping breaths filled the silence that followed.
A mixture of your saliva and his precum dripped to his tightly drawn balls, a wet stain spreading on the chair beneath him and his cheeks flushed in reaction.
It took a moment to find composure. Idly he stroked your hair to ensure you knew he wasn’t mad or displeased by your efforts, far from it. His palm traced your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. Gentle and reassuring, as if he weren’t breaking every code of ethics going.
“I think this is the first session where I have said more than you, my dear. I’d like the chance to make you feel good, will you let me do that? It would make me so very happy...”
Subconsciously your face had come to rest against the side of his knee, enjoying the soft petting and whispered words of praise more than you thought you ever would. Your dark God wanted to make you feel good, who were you to deny him that want? You were his disciple after all.
“I don’t feel worthy…”
He snorted. “Nonsense. I’ve wanted to take you to hell before gifting you heaven since the very first moment you walked into my office.”
What an honour, to have been regarded so highly by the genius that was Dr Geto, it spoke to that part of your psyche that you were meant to be working on. It filled you with warmth, that deep-seated desire to feel wanted and needed. This was far from healthy, anyone would see that but you didn't have the luxury of that insight.
“I’d like that… Suguru.”
The smile he flashed at you was like staring at the devil himself. Shame, it was tinted by your reverence.
You could only watch as he slowly undressed, standing for a moment to step out of his pants and underwear before kneeling in front of you. His face was so close, reaching out for you and admiring your features with a reverential eye. His thumb stroked your jawline, ending with it dragging your lower lip down and you dared to nip at the rough textured pad.
Inching closer, warm breath that smelled faintly spicy and laced with traces of tobacco fanned your cheek and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. There was a tsk of admonishment followed by a gasp, your head tilted back with a sharp yank on your hair and you met the blazing stare of the man before you. Emotions were swirling in those polished obsidian irises that you couldn’t begin to fathom, the serpents of his wicked intent but to you, they were pretty star-filled skies.
His mouth hovered above yours, waiting, ever the patient man and giving you this one final chance to push away. To come to your fucking senses and run for the hills. You should. You really should get out before it was too late. There was time… if you kissed him now, it was game over. 
Yes, you held his cock in your fist and had taken him into your mouth but if you kissed him your fate would be sealed. Suguru conveyed this without saying a single word, he radiated his warning and demanded that you heed it.
You were the metaphorical shiny red apple, so perfect looking yet you were slowly rotting on the inside. The worm had found its way inside and was slowly eroding your purity, replacing it with sinful intentions and indecent thoughts. Who would have thought your handsome and prolific psychiatrist would be capable of such wickedness?
Time suspended when your lips met at long last, all soft touches at first, but quickly they turned heated and carnal. Suguru let you lead for a time, responding to the dance of your mouth but finally, he swept you into his arms on a whimpered sigh from your throat. 
His strong arms pulled you closer, palms flush against your back and you could feel his slicked-up cock press snugly against your stomach. You only parted long enough for him to help you remove the sweater that covered your pretty dress, the straps of which were shoved down your arms until you could feel the cold air on your skin.
Suguru chased the chill from your flesh, his touch ignited every part of you he touched and there was a deep part of you that longed to push your fingers into his hair. Never one to do something purely for selfish means, you were emboldened by the lust that washed through you, the knot of tension that tugged behind your navel and you dared to do it. Your fingers speared into the masses of his thick raven hair, nails scratching against his scalp and you were pushed to the floor as he groaned into your mouth from the unexpected sensation.
A palm spread your thighs apart and you squealed into his mouth at the first touch of his hand against your underwear. Your cotton panties were drenched and you were beyond mortified. His tongue flicked lazily against the front of your teeth before retreating.
“Is this all for me? I’m honoured.” Suguru traced the edge of your panties, hooking his thumbs behind the flimsy elastic band and tugging them down in swift movements. He knelt between your spread thighs and heat burst along your skin.
You covered your face with your palms, biting down on your fingers as the dark-haired male teased a sole finger along your slit. No one had touched you here like this other than yourself, you hadn’t allowed it. Plenty had wanted to, but something always held you back, it never felt right. This shouldn’t feel right, yet it did.
Strands of sticky arousal caked his finger in an instant, your hips rolled against the plush carpet and you watched through your fingers as he sucked that sticky finger entirely clean. It shouldn't make your insides squirm like a pit of writhing vipers, should it?
“Knew you’d taste sweeter than cream, you're gonna let me taste you properly, yeah?” he asked with a rasp, already lowering himself so his face peaked up from below the bunched skirt of your dress.
A quick nod and your back arched so high that you thought your spine might break clean in two. The fat stripe he licked along your folds curled your toes and your hands flew to his hair once more. Dark irises studied your expression, watched for every telltale sign of what you liked and stored it away for future use.
Your skin tasted more delicious than anything he had ever sampled, his nose nestled against the short curls at your mound and pressed against your bundle of nerves. He alternated between short sharp strokes of his tongue and long languid licks from below your clenching entrance right to your throbbing clit.
Suguru eased his fingers into your tight pussy, braced on one forearm that hooked around the outside of your hip. He held you down as best he could whilst you bucked and writhed as new sensations assaulted you from every direction.
You whined at the stretch from his digits but he refused to relent, knowing how much more the burn of his cock would feel without this much-needed prepping. How you managed to engage in sex without these pleasures was a mystery to him. No wonder you never enjoyed the experience.
He refused to acknowledge the warnings in the back of his mind, the way that he was becoming addicted to your scent and taste. He ignored how fucking amazing you made him feel every time you tugged on his hair or called his name out when you experienced something new. You were so responsive to his every touch, you were made for him and he would make you his before the day was out.
“Don’t hold back, darling, cum for me. You can do it, just let go.”
Suguru quickened the thrust of his fingers, curling them further to press down against the spot that was swelling from his expert attention. The very second his lips attached to your clit, you exploded like the most magnificent firework. 
Never had he heard such colourful language from you before, the cacophony of curses mingled with his name and the offerings to a God he did not believe in. His fingers were practically thrown from your pussy, the walls clenching down so tightly and the slippery release enough to make his eyes momentarily widen before he could compose himself. 
What a sight.
His innocent patient lying spread out on the floor of his office, hair fanning your head like an angel’s halo and your breasts close to spilling over the soft cups of your bra. Translucent arousal covered your thighs, the skin shiny and he had half a mind to simply lick you clean, but there were more pressing matters to attend to first.
It was evident you were still riding your orgasm, lip tightly tucked between your teeth and each gentle touch of his hands made you whimper and jerk. Suguru kissed a path up your torso, leaving sticky patches of your essence on your collarbone and neck as he lowered himself atop you.
His cock slid with ease along your messy folds, toying with you for only long enough to steal more kisses and interlock your fingers beside your head. This was the moment he had waited for, had hoped would come and after nearly a year, you were going to be his.
“Will you let me fuck your cute pussy, sweetheart?” he asked and almost immediately balked at himself. Why the fuck was he giving you an out, now? He should be splitting you open like he needed to, not asking for your fucking permission.
Suguru breathed a sigh of relief as you nodded shyly, gazing at him softly from below your lashes. You had just cum all over his face and fingers and yet you still looked like the most timid little flower—perfection.
Without a second's hesitation, he pressed forward, the pressure against his thick tip enough to make him grunt like an animal. He rocked himself back and forth, opening you further with each new thrust of his hips. You whimpered, whined and pressed your face into the crook of his neck with every stretch of your tight cunt.
How it burned, the sensation of being split apart was enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes and oh fuck, did you want to yell at him to stop. To stop moving, to pull out and let your thighs come together. The fear of his response stopped you, the familiar tingle of wanting to please filled your chest and your brain and all you could do was breathe through it.
It was different before. They were never as big or domineering as the cock currently carving you open. Suguru was moulding you to his length, demanding that you fit him like a silk glove.
You only half heard the whispered words of praise that he lavished upon you, every further inch that he bullied into your tight cunt resulted in more and more messy, open-mouthed kisses. You thought you might die or at least pass out. Stifling a sniffle, you tightened the fingers that laced with his own.
Suddenly, it stopped. 
The agonising pain of accepting Suguru into your body ceased, a warm feeling flooded your abdomen and you blinked up into a face twisted in pleasure.
“You’re so tight, I might not last…”
His voice was hoarse, strangled with the tendons on his neck on prominent display. Your hips pressed together, his cock so deep in your body that you were truly worried that he could rearrange your guts. When he pulled back, you moaned and it sounded like the most filthy noise you had ever made in your life.
Suguru gasped in reaction, obsidian eyes boring into your skull as his pace picked up. You could feel every part of him, your walls hugging and contoured to accommodate him to sheer perfection.
You were made to take this man, this darkly handsome man who manipulated you into this situation and used your weaknesses to his advantage. He was no God, he was the Devil and you had sold your soul to him. Signed your name in blood and there wasn’t a hint of regret in your mind.
The longer he stroked his cock into your pussy the bolder you became, you were the one to kiss him and suck on his swollen lips. Your tongue twisted around his and licked against his teeth. You arched your back, lifting your hips and shifting the angle of his cock to press just right on that special spot he had found earlier. You groaned in his ear and whispered for him to go faster, harder.
All he could do was everything that you asked of him. He had fallen hook, line and sinker for you. How things had twisted up in the jumble of lust.
For a second, Suguru frowned as a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Had you wanted this all along? Had you played him more than he had played you? It was gone in an instant as your head tipped back and you chanted his name in blind reverence.
“Suguru. Suguru! Oh fuck, Suguru!”
Once again, he felt your precipice and quickened to send you careening over the edge. Your thighs tightened around his lean hips, the pressure in his balls close to exploding when your walls milked him. 
You fell first, but you were bringing him with you this time. Clinging to him like he was the only anchor in a stormy sea, the knots within your stomach released all at once, and then you felt the white-hot heat of thick ropes of cum splashing against your thighs. When he had pulled out, you didn’t know. All you did know was that there was a faint tremor of disappointment that he had running through your mind.
For the longest time, you simply stared at one another, both coming down from your respective highs and not daring to look away.
The smile you gifted him was new. It made his head tilt whilst he observed you from above. After a long moment, he returned the smile and let his head sink against your heaving chest.
Who had corrupted who? Did it really matter when you both got exactly what you wanted?
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connabeth · 10 days
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rick really woke up and said "what if i give the people what they want for once" and gave us grumpy black cat introvert percy and sunshine golden retriever extrovert annabeth we never knew we needed
also no one's talking about how percy made friends with annabeth's college's security guard (Florence or smthn?) so he's the only one allowed to walk in her campus anytime?
also I found a typo in the third chapter where dave was accidentally called paul which I found really funny
1) i’m glad this series is doing justice to annabeth’s personality because she spent so much of pjo & hoo caught in an inner turmoil of hurt and uncertainty and self-loathing and insecurity and fear given the circumstances of luke’s betrayal and percy’s imminent death. in spite of it all, she was still a bastion of hope and light throughout those books, but she deserves to be silly and unburdened by the weight of the world now that she has percy back and there’s no big prophecy (unresolved trauma aside). i think, in her mind, even though new, crazy things keep being thrown at them and she most certainly deals with a latent fear of losing percy at any moment, she’s resolute and confident that they can overcome anything that gets in their way of their dream of going to college and finding peace together because she feels that invigorated and wants it that bad. even if greco-egyptian gods or a triple goddess or a mortal apollo pop up throughout their senior year. i feel like she’s giving herself the freedom to just let go, breathe, be sure everything will be okay in the end, and just be excited about things without drowning in worry for once, which i love. she deserves to feel that childlike enthusiasm she was deprived of for so long. her confidence that they’ll be okay extends to percy being able to complete all his classwork and applications, which in turn reinforces his determination.
2) as for percy, he’s definitely the more outwardly insecure out of the two, mainly because of how his academic prowess pales in comparison to hers and the fact that he feels he doesn’t deserve her and she’s way better than him. percy thinking her SODNYC friends perceive him in the same critical light obviously isn’t helping. it’s evident in the way he’s amazed when he looks at her, disbelieving for a second that she’s his girlfriend, and how he observes her interaction with others more similar to her, feeling like an outsider who can’t understand that part of her brain the way her friends can. it’s even more abundantly clear when he believes “She would always succeed whether I was around or not,” which in theory is a sweet sentiment to have about your very capable girlfriend, but academic and social success aside, she needs him as much as he needs her and she’d see no point in being in california without him. but his insecurities and easy jealousy prevent him from fully understanding this even if he innately knows it’s a universal truth that they’re meant to be together. however, all this being said, percy’s characterization in wottg so far is a little…weird. in order for you to literally pee your pants, something must scare you or catch you off guard really, really bad. so while it makes sense for him to fear a powerful goddess, wetting his boxers seems like an extreme reaction. i know rick was probably just trying to insert immature humor, but the implications are not what he was going for considering this is the boy who didn’t have that reaction staring down titans and giants and nyx and tartarus himself. so forgive me if i think it’s a little insane that percy having such a visceral reaction to a goddess 13 year old hazel fared well against is out of character, even after taking into consideration his fear of not receiving and completing the remaining quests on time. it makes sense for him to be nervous and on edge, given the quiet of the past month, but that amount of fear towards a deity who’s not the most scary thing he’s faced down is an interesting choice since rick isn’t known for realistic depictions of PTSD and that likely isn’t the intention here. it’s also curious how it’s implied even a goddess as primordial as aphrodite caves in to hecate…
3) florence is the goat and i love percy making random friends to help his cause. he doesn’t go out of his way to befriend others in the mortal world unless they approach him first or there’s an opportunity there. and the fact that annabeth can a casually ask her friend to cover for her being gone from her dorm for several days makes me think this is far from the first time she’s snuck out for prolonged periods of time👀
4) this is an INSANE typo to have in a book because clearly not a single person proofread it and it doesn’t surprise me that it got past rick, but becky and several rounds of editors and everyone else in his circle who’s read the book not picking up on it prior to publication is wild. rick is too eager to have his self-insert be everywhere and it shows💀
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star-girl-05 · 5 months
Text
Honeymoon
James Wilson x Reader
Prompt: What if like you're Wilson's 4th wife and like you just got married and maybe you're insecure because this is his FOURTH wedding night and honeymoon and you want to make it special and like stand out from his exes? If that makes sense? ~ from anon
~★~❤︎~✦~
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Before you even started dating Wilson you knew about his long list of exs. In the beginning you found it quite intimidating when you first started dating. Now it’s been over a year and you're married to your prince charming. The whole day was like a page out of a fairy tale. It was a world wind but now that the ceremony and reception are over you can feel your nerves building up. Feelings you had thought you had gotten over came bubbling back up. 
You're not Wilson's first wife, you're not even his second but fourth. He’s been married three times before, had three honeymoons before. He has all this experience while this is your first wedding, your first honeymoon. You're just so nervous that you won’t live up to his past exs. 
So nervous that you’ve been locked in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes. Your eyes are locked on your reflection, when you bought this negligee you thought it was beautiful. Now though you don’t think it's good enough. A knock on the door stops you from spirling more. 
“Are you okay in there, honey” your nerves pick up at his voice. How can you face him looking like this? You're positive you're going to disappoint him. You try to calm your breathing. 
You’ve been thinking about this night for weeks, you just need to calm down. In hopes of making this night special for Wilson you planned a little surprise for him. Now though you're second guessing yourself. 
Wilson knocks on the door once more , “Honey?” You look yourself in the mirror, locking eyes with your reflection. 
“You are not going to spend your honeymoon in the bathroom, you have a gorgeous man waiting for you so pull yourself together.” You shake yourself of your nerves opening the door before you can back out. As soon as you open the door Wilson gives you a lovesick smile. 
“You look stunning” he places a sweet kiss on your lips. You can already feel your nerves coming back as you look him over. He's taken off his tie and unbuttoned the first half of his shirt revealing his chest. “Are you okay baby you seem off?” 
“Yeah just nervous” you try to give him a reassuring smile but it doesn’t work. 
He pulls you closer “Don’t be I won’t do anything you're uncomfortable with,” You feel so stupid. It’s not like this is the first time the two of you spent the night together. It’s just the first time with you being Mrs. Wilson. 
“I know” you grab his hand, feeling yourself calm down at his touch. Time to give him your surprise. “I got you something for you or us to use tonight” his eyebrows furrowed. He watched you closely as you opened the mini fridge in the room pulling out a few things. A new found confidence overcomes you when you see the fascinated look on his face. “I hope you didn’t fill up” you say with strawberries in one hand and whip cream in the other. 
He trips a little making his way to you “I’m starving” you giggle at his eagerness. 
Safe to say you made your Honeymoon special even for the thrice divorced Wilson. 
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 9 months
Note
could you write one shot of the reader crying bc she’s insecure dating cill?:)
Nerves | young!Cillian x fem!Reader
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Summary: Its the night of the Drama Desk Award Show (2012) and the up and coming star Cillian Murphy has a new girlfriend. She loves him but she still struggles to overcome her insecurity when it comes to being with Cillian. Hours before the show, she finally confides in him and he does everything he can think of to make her feel better before the big night.
Warnings: Self-deprecation and insecurity, anxiety, crying, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), after-care. Heavily inspired by the Golden Globes show last night where Cillian had lipstick on his nose lol. This is a fictional story that does not reflect Cillian Murphy in reality- it is purely delusional lol. Cillian is not married in this- no hate towards Yvonne, please.
work count: 2815k
Warning sign- Coldplay 🎶
note: I hope I did your request justice :)
Minors do not interact. Not proof read- sorry folks!
She was going completely insane. There was no way in hell that Cillian Murphy actually loved her. He was the most attractive man she had ever met and the kind of guy who talked very little which meant that she talked more than she would have liked just to fill the silence when they first started dating. She beat herself up about it on a regular basis, mortified how she seemed to say the most ridiculous things to Cillian and watched as he chuckled politely. She tried to tell herself that she was beautiful, that other people found her beautiful, and that she was degrading herself for no reason. But that didn’t stop the constant weight of insecurity settling on her shoulders whenever she was with him. She felt unattractive, like the kind of girl that never got the guy, and it was affecting her mental health. 
She told herself over and over again as she got ready for the award show that Cillian had chosen her, that he wouldn’t be with her if he didn’t love her. Once she had prided herself on her confidence and even-tempered personality but she felt the exact opposite whenever she was alone with him. Being in public was a little easier, she could hide behind the absurdity of the paparazzi, she could take Cillian’s hand because he was leading her away, etc. But once they were alone, she felt insecure and a little delusional because none of it felt real… and maybe none of it was. Maybe this was all a fantasy but that couldn’t be because Cillian was real and the assistants swarming her with hair tools and makeup swatches were certainly real too. 
They had started officially dating a few months before, right after his play Misterman was officially done touring. They’d gone on a few dates here and there but everything suddenly got serious after closing night, she honestly couldn't even remember how it happened. Now, don’t get her wrong, he loved being with Cillian but like so many girls (and others), she struggled to feel adequate in her relationship with Cillian. He was such an amazing performer and just so downright beautiful that it intimidated her. She was working as an author and happened to go to a party that Cillian was also at in New York City. They were introduced and she was surprised how shy he was, even as an already famous actor. And though she talked incessantly because she was afraid of awkward silence, he’d still asked her out on a date. 
The rest had obviously led up to this moment in a small hotel room where they were both getting ready for The Drama Desk Award show in NYC. One of her assistants helped her choose a dress from a local upscale department store and they decided on a red velvet dress with a very simple silhouette. It was laced tightly around her waist and the hem ended mid-thigh. Cillian, ever the practically dressed man, wore a simple tux and styled his hair with a sticky product. Once they were dressed, their assistants left, telling them that a car would arrive to take them to the show. Cillian stepped out of the bathroom where he was checking his hair and snapped off the bright yellow light, his eyes fell on her.  
“Wow, look at you,” Cillian smiled as she turned around in the mirror, checking that the back looked ok. 
“Do you like it?” She laughed self-consciously and put her hands on her hips. 
“Mhm, it's beautiful.” He licked his lips and she blushed deeply, feeling the rush of blood through her body like a little girl with a crush. 
“Hey, hey, come here! You’re blushing,” Cillian caught her wrist and pulled her around to face him. She looked to the side, smiling. “That’s so cute.” 
“Stop it, Cill,” she swatted him away but he caught her waist between his palms and held her still, his piercing blue eyes holding her like a magnet. 
“What’s wrong?” His smile softened and he ran his thumbs across her velvet bodice. She took a deep breath and tried to smile normally. 
“I’m just nervous,” she shrugged. 
“About being in front of so many people?”
“No, not really. I don’t mind that so much.”
“Then why are you nervous?” He furrowed his brow and shifted his weight on his feet, stepping closer. 
“I’m,” she started but his closeness distracted her. He was so close that his breath dragged across her forehead and displaced some of her hair. They’d only had sex twice because it was still so early in their relationship. She had an apartment in New York but Cillian had gotten a room in a hotel nearby as well, not wanting to force himself into her private life. When he was doing Misterman he stayed with a friend and had visited her only a few times when their schedules aligned. In their absence from one another, a sense of sexual depravity heightened between them. Even just thinking about Cillian in bed with her made her catch her breath, nearly choking on her own oxygen. 
“I’m just,” she started again, her eyes caught on Cillian’s lips. Cillian’s eyes were on her’s and she shivered under his gaze. “I’m just nervous being around you.” She finished finally and looked up at him for his reaction. He snapped away from his trance and raised an eyebrow. 
“Why’s that?” 
She shook her head, not breaking eye contact. Her hands clasped around his forearms, his hands still tight around her waist. 
“It's just hard to be vulnerable, you know? It’s hard being with someone else when you’re more comfortable being by yourself. And… well, sometimes I don’t feel good enough to be with you.” She started to cry and wiped the tears quickly from her face, embarrassed. His concern changed to a wide smile. 
“Ah,” Cillian threw back his head and laughed lightly, his dark hair shifting from his forehead, “really? You don’t think you’re good enough to be with me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. You’re a best-selling author and smart as hell, I’m fucking intimidated by you.” He moved his hands to cup her face, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh on her cheeks. 
“But you’re Cillian Murphy.” She emphasized and moved her hands to his belt loops. 
“Then remember, sweetheart, that you’re Cillian Murphy’s girl.” She smiled, adding a self-deprecating emphasis on his own name. She blushed again and he laughed, “you’re blushing again!” 
“Jesus christ,” she hid her face in her hands and turned away. Cillian laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. When she pulled her hands away from her face, he wrapped his arms around her chest from behind. They stared at each other in the mirror. 
“I think you’re going to win, Cill.” She whispered with a closed smile. He scoffed jokingly. 
“I’m flattered but I really doubt it.” 
“I think you will.” She shrugged. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nodded and leaned back against him. He licked his lips and smiled slyly. 
“Well, then if I win, as you say I will, I want to spend the night with you.” 
“Oh? Is that the deal?” She laughed and resisted his strong hold around her, “what happens if you lose?” She frowned jokingly. 
“Hmm,” he thought, “maybe you’ll still fuck me because you feel so bad for me.” “Do you really want me, Cillian?” She asked seriously and he paused, watching her closely. 
“Do you not believe me?” He asked seriously back, his eyebrow raised. 
“No, not really,” she whispered and he looked at her sadly for a moment, trying to understand where this insecurity came from and what he could do to relieve its pressure on her psyche. He looked down at his watch and stepped away from her, leaving her in the center of the mirror’s reflection. 
“Take off your dress.” He whispered, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She shook her head.
“What?” 
“Take it off, darling.” 
She looked down at her dress and then back at him. He stood patiently behind her, waiting. 
“We have time so do as I ask, please.” He nodded to her dress, “take it all off.” 
She very slowly undid the ties at her back, loosening the dress around her waist. She kicked off her flats and took a deep breath before letting her dress slip from her chest down to the carpeted floor. She was left in her bra and underwear, both red to hide beneath the red dress. He sighed deeply, his pupils expanding childishly. He sat back on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his palm. 
“Go on.” He encouraged and she reached behind her back, undoing the bra and casting it to the side. Then she removed her underwear, standing completely nude in the mirror. Her heart pounded against her chest. 
“This, this is why I want you.” He nodded to her body. He stood and stopped behind her, his hand reaching around to her navel. “I’ve been thinking about you for so long, it was driving me crazy.” He whispered against her ear. His hand trailed up her stomach to her top rib and stayed there, not yet touching her breast. 
“Every part of you is perfect,” he continued, his hand sliding down to her thighs and then up to her breasts where he finally cupped them. Every ridge and roll of fat fell below his hand as he explored her body. She shuttered. 
She suddenly felt a small surge of confidence. “Do you masturbate about me?” 
He looked at her and smiled shyly, “yeah… yeah.” He shook his head, “like I’m a fucking teenage boy. I feel like I need you all the time.” He gasped quietly against her bare skin. 
She turned and pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him giddily and he smiled against her lips. His hand cupped her cunt as he kissed her back. She gasped at his touch and unbuttoned his pants. He kicked off his loafers and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he laid her down on the hotel’s bed. She could feel his erection against her cunt as she fell onto the soft mattress. She sat up and pushed his dress jacket from his shoulder and tossed it carefully to the side. He was still in his dress shirt and bowtie as he pulled his erection from his underwear. She pulled him down to her mouth and continued to kiss him as he rubbed her clit, warming her up. 
“Fuck, Cillian.” 
“Yeah?” He whispered against her lips. 
“God, I love you.” She gasped as he pushed his cock against her cunt and he smiled, his eyes closed. 
“I love you too.” He exhaled and pushed inside her with a gentle thrust. She whimpered from the sudden intrusion and he gasped. He held her hips and fucked her deeper, still going slow and allowing her body to get used to him. 
“This is so good, Jesus Christ. Are you ready?” He looked down at her and she nodded quickly. He licked his lips and started to fuck her faster, their bodies hitting eachother more aggressively as he sped up. She whimpered in pleasure and he exhaled in short bursts, already panting. He pulled out and crawled onto the bed below her. With one hand he pulled her farther up on the bed and the other he positioned her hips again. He thrusted inside again and grabbed the headboard, digging his fingers into the padded surface. 
“Shit, Cillian I’m going to cum!” She whimpered, her thighs flexed against his pale hips. He shuttered and looked down at her. 
“No, not yet. I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” He cooed and slowed down. He slipped his arms beneath her and laid his palms flat on the mattress. He held her hip up with one hand and moved in and out slowly, pushing as deep as she would allow him to go. 
“Fuck…” she gasped and dug her nails into his back helplessly. She felt a pleasurable shock shoot from between her legs and she covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans. 
“Oh you poor thing, you had to cum, didn’t you? You couldn't wait for me. So you’ll just have to cum twice, ok?” He panted and she nodded, tears filling her eyes and he snapped his hips back against her. He fucked her faster, panting from the pleasure. He grabbed the bottom of the headboard and pulled himself deeper inside her and she threw her head back in pleasure.
“Fucking hell, look at you,” He stroked her hair and continued fucking her fast, drawing out loud and pitiful moans from his throat. “You’re so good for me. God, I love you. You’re my girl.” He muttered deliriously, her walls closing around him and her thigh pulling him closer. The bed rocked beneath them. 
“Harder, Cillian. Please!” She begged, a small spot of drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. He smiled and went deeper, hitting the base of her uterus with fast and rough thrusts. He got sloppier and she gasped against her hand. He kissed her and when she opened her mouth in a moan, he sucked her tongue. She licked his upper lip when he threw his head back in pleasure. 
“I’m going to cum, fuck!” He panted and gave a final thrust into her. As he finished, she squirted and shuttered from the violent pleasure. He pulled out with a proud laugh and kissed her. He climbed off the bed and pulled her down to the edge of the bed by her ankle. 
“What are you doing now?” She giggled. 
“Cleaning up, darling.” He lowered himself to his knees and spread her legs with his sweaty palms. He looked at her for a second before licking her cunt, twirling his tongue against her clit. She was already so sensitive that she arched her back and bit down on her finger to stop herself from literally screaming. He used a flat tongue to clean the cum from her body and sucked softly on her clit. She tugged at his hair, gasping in exhausted pleasure. He held her hips in place as he dug her heels into the mattress, her feet flexed completely. He continued to lick when she orgasmed, cleaning her completely. Then with a proud smile, he put on his underwear and went to the bathroom. He came back with a damp washcloth and lifted one of her legs, wiping the soft inside of her thigh. He did the same to the other as she panted. She sat up and kissed him. 
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I love you.” He responded and kissed her on her forehead before handing her dress back to her. She quickly put her dress back on and fixed her makeup. She applied a red lip gloss and brushed her hair away from her face. Cillian put his pants and shoes back on before pulling on his jacket and straightening the front. A knock sounded at the door and Cillian nodded at her as if nothing had happened. 
“Ready?” 
“Yeah.” She smiled and grabbed her purse. He took her hand and they walked down to the parking lot where the car was waiting to take them to the award ceremony. His hand stayed in her’s, their fingers linked. She rested against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. The venue was lit up and crowded with paparazzi and cars. This was the first time that she would be seen with Cillian at any of his events. He helped her out of the car and put a protective hand behind her back, leading her through the crowd to the entrance. Once inside, they were shown to their table and she shifted her foot closer to his, wanting to be as close as possible. People snapped their picture and introduced themselves to her, Cillian introduced her as his girlfriend and she blushed each time, prompting a playful pinch from Cillian.
She squeezed his thigh when the nominees were announced for his category. 
“And the award for outstanding solo performance is…” The announcer looked down at the envelope and smiled at the audience, “Cillian Murphy, Misterman!” Everyone applauded and Cillian turned to her, kissing her in his moment of excitement and happiness. She kissed him back and laughed when he pulled away. Her lip gloss was smeared across his lips. 
“You have lip gloss on your face now!” She whispered as he stood. 
“Perfect.” He whispered in her ear and walked shyly to the stage, taking the award with shy nods, his eyes finding her’s in the audience, smudges of red across his mouth. She was his. 
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faerievampling · 7 months
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hey! i just found your blog and just read all your stuff,,,, i’m in LOVE. you’re such a good writer!!!
saw that your requests were open and please ignore if this doesn’t vibe with you, but could i please request astarion (ascended or otherwise it doesn’t matter to me) headcanons (or whatever format that’s easiest for you) with a F!reader whose really insecure about her looks and body and her sexual inexperience? like she puts on a really tough front for the world, but when it comes to physical touch and intimacy she’s really nervous.
i’m so sorry if this is way too specific or weird or whatever literally ignore this. thank you so much and i hope you have a wonderful week my love <3
Hi thank you so much. I love doing these and i love this idea and IVE GOT YOU. I hope you enjoy ❤️‍🔥 disclaimer this is kinda just my stream of consciousness and what happened happened lol
Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader
warning: 18+! Explicit.
When you first met Astarion, his devastating beauty and intense flirtations intimidated you.
He was so gorgeous, and you thought yourself incredibly average, certainly not good looking enough to reasonably catch the eye of someone as beautiful as Astarion.
Not to mention—Astarion was so experienced, and you were just the opposite. You had very few sexual experiences, maybe even none at all. It only added to your insecurities about your looks and body.
You hid these feelings well, so much so that Astarion seemed non-the-wiser. He thought maybe you were just cold to him; so he worked even harder to warm you up.
Earning your trust and thus your body became a goal of Astarion’s, and he lavished all his attentions on you.
It irritated you, only because you couldn’t tell if he was being genuine with you. It hurt to think that he was just playing with you.
When Astarion finally sleeps with you, it was something you had both been waiting on, both been yearning for. Because of your cool demeanor and general reserved disposition, it takes you a while to finally trust Astarion. Of course, you had desperately wanted him since you first met him, but you had self control.
Astarion is slow to explore your body, which only adds to your vulnerability. He focuses on your breasts, your hips, all the little erogenous zones you didn’t even realize you had: your ear, the crook of your neck, the back of your knees, the space just above your tail bone on your lower back, even your toes, which he would massage one by one, despite how much it tickled you.
He focuses on making you feel exceptionally good the first night you’re with him, almost like he has something to prove. He’s never had to work this hard to fuck someone before. Poor Astarion! Don’t worry, he will get you back by using your body to pleasure himself. After the first night, you’ll surely be his forever, anyways.
After he’s done exploring the outside of your body, he focuses inward, using his fingers and tongue to explore your entrances. Astarion wants to know all of you. He is definitely the type to want to use all of your available holes if you’re ready and willing lol.
He will want to know the parts of you that have been unexplored by other lovers. This may even be a big deal to him.
But you’re shy, and you try to close your knees, try to cover your breasts or your belly, hiding yourself from him. But Astarion is so genuine in his attraction to you, and his hard cock will speak for itself most of the time.
Whatever imperfection you may have, I imagine Astarion to worship it, and he might even help you learn to love this part of you.
If you’ve told him about your insecurity, he’s very careful to help you overcome it and feel adored.
If you keep your insecurity from him, which I would imagine an aloof and bull-headed Tav to do, he quickly finds out from your first time together. As soon as he pressed his lips to yours, he can sense your hesitation, your walls going up as his hands find your waist.
You quiver beneath him, maybe you even pull away; but Astarion only brings you closer, chiding you for shying away from him.
“You are so beautiful, love, why would you ever shy away from me?”
Whether your a virgin or simply inexperienced, Astarion is very careful with your body: he cares for you, he wants you, and he will use his experienced digits and tongue in you, likely making you come even quicker than he had intended.
He’s endeared by it, humored by it, not laughing at you, per se, but with you. Your innocence cute to him. It just made him want to ravish you further, to see how else your sensitive body responds to him.
I think all versions of Astarion would be into corrupting you and teaching you how to please him, and even yourself.
Since the two of you have come to know each other fully in both body and soul, Astarion would love teaching you how to make yourself feel good. I love the idea of Astarion teaching his darling in the ways of pleasure.
Imagine, years after being with Astarion, the two of you are so happy and known. You would have forgotten what you were so worried about in the first place, because your vampire reminds you just how beautiful and fair you are each and every day.
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