#I expect I’ll cry at some point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 9 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly. “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did. You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something. And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it. The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.

“Poor girl,” he breathed. “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course. He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle. “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be. And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that. “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was. You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should. “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say. He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it. You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you. Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted. His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s. You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then. It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way. Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type. But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder. You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly. “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that? It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good. Not enough. You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted. His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little. “I can,” he admitted. “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife. You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut. You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you. This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening. But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly. You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him. It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question. Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing. “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive. “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze. “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair. He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you. Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you. He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin. “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was. It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things. “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him. As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled. “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply. It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap. Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin. “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was. “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go. “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this. “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you? You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did. You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response. “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was. “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart? Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this. He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now. “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long. We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly. “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans. “Good fucking girl,” he snarled. “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster. “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck. “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart. Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you. It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl. “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop. You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you. With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself. “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #dilf!cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.

AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣

Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”

“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.

You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.

“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.

You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.

Ring ring ring

You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.

"Hello?"

"You little slut"

"Eddie?"

"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"

"I don't understand? What's wrong."

“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.

“Wha-“

“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.

He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”

“I don't understand?”

“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.

"Eddie-"

“So we are don-”

You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.

You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?

You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.

"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.

"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."

Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.

After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.

He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.

Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.

Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...

"Hello?"

"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"

"We are not speaking to you."

"We? Who's we?"

But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.

He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?

When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.

"Robin! Open the door, please."

The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.

"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."

"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.

"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"

"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."

"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.

"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."

Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

How could he be so stupid?

"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."

"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"

Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.

There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.

"You don't understand, Jason was-"

"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"

"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.

You and Eddie were officially done.

You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.

Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.

Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.

You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.

The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.

As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.

Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.

You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.

“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.

“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.

“Please! Wait!”

Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.

“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.

“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.

“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.

“Eddie, get up.”

“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t know Eddie…”

“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.

“Eddie…” you sigh.

“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”

“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.

“Please, can I at least just hold you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.

Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.

“I’m sorry”

“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

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navybrat817 · 5 months

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Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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viennakarma · 6 months

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Say something (I'm giving up on you)

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Your husband tells you the truth about Vegas, and it makes your perfect sandcastle crumble.

Word count: 6k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, mild somnophilia, mentions of pregnancy and children, very very angsty, no hea, not beta read

Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Notes: To be honest, this is very personal and something I needed to get off my chest before going back to my WIPs lol. Sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

As soon as you got out of the shower, a robe on your body and a towel around your head, you noticed how Lewis was sitting there, looking somewhat defeated.

“Hey, I know this season wasn’t what you expected but I’m sure it will get better,” you muttered, noticing how he was down, you stood between his legs, holding his head, pushing his braids away from his face, “I’m hoping you’ll have a great car next year. I’ll put the kettle on, so we can drink a little tea.”

He didn’t answer as you pecked his lips and went downstairs. You had just turned the kettle on when Lewis came down too, stopping in the middle of the kitchen.

“I need to tell you something,” he started and you paused, waiting, “something happened in Vegas.”

You felt your heart accelerate, you didn’t like that tone, so instead of asking more, you just waited, holding your breath.

“I cheated.”

It’s like you were punched in the gut, and you gasped for air. Your eyes immediately teared up, but you held in, waiting for his next words. You held yourself up with both hands on the kitchen island, because your legs felt like they might just give in. You stared at him, numb. Waiting for it to be some sick and unfunny joke, but the guilt in his eyes was so real.

“It happened in Vegas, and it didn’t mean anything at all, and I’m so so sorry, I know I should never have done it, and I regret it. I love you so much, I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me, I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, whatever you want just say th-”

At that point you stopped listening, looking down at your hand sprawled on the countertop, the wedding band and the engagement ring you wore on top of it felt like they were burning, like a curse just about to ruin your perfect life.

Like a beautiful sandcastle crumbling under a big wave, your perfect life came crashing down, with a couple of words and one single decision that never came from you. Your plans, your dreams, your future that always had Lewis beside you now were turning to dust. And it hurt like fucking hell, like you were under the wreckage, something heavy compressing your chest leaving you to die an agonizing death.

Lewis walked up to you, trying to take your hand but you moved out of his reach, taking a step back.

“Please, just say something. Anything. Please, love. Scream at me, hit me, key my car, anything. Please, say something,” He begged you, and all you could feel was pain, a knot in your stomach as you walked away, numbly going back to your room, locking the door behind you because you could hear him coming after you.

You held your head, this feeling of despair gnawing your insides, and you pulled the wedding band and engagement ring out, leaving it at the bedside table. Your tears came down and you looked at the bed were you had made love on the night before, were you had fucked his brains out just because you wanted him to feel better, after being upset with how the season ended. He hid this information for more than a week, because you had been in Abu Dhabi with him for moral support. Crying, you pull off the bed sheets, leaving them on the floor when the knot in your stomach makes you too nauseous. Running to the bathroom, you puke your disgust away, crying and dry heaving after there was nothing left in your stomach.

You were going to leave your job next year because you two were planning to try for kids. You were going to dedicate yourself to finally writing your book. You were going to join him the whole season, to never leave his side, to go wherever he went. You were going to buy a place in his hometown too, to be close to his family whenever you two had the time. You had planned to have a baby in England, because of Lewis.

How after five years together, after two years of marriage you had crafted your life around his. How you’d drop everything to make him happy, because his happiness made you happy. He knew cheating was your only and strongest dealbreaker, you had told him countless times during your relationship, you had reminded him before the wedding too, and he had said he would never be interested in anyone else.

You pulled a towel from under the sink and sobbed into it. You could still hear his voice outside, muffled by the door. Going back to bed, you put your wedding band back again, staring at it as a token of your happiest years.

You cried yourself to sleep.

The next morning you woke up and did your morning routine in pain. It was like you had to live feeling the pulsating pain of a broken bone. As you opened the door, Lewis was sleeping on the hallway floor by the door. Avoiding him, you went to the kitchen, but you didn’t have the energy to cook anything, so you grabbed the key of one of his cars and left for a coffee shop.

Everything felt like an out of body experience, like you were in automatic mode, going with the flow, buying a muffin and a tea because that’s what you did every time. Greeting the waitress with a small smile, like always. The only difference was going back to the car instead of eating inside the cafe, and eating there, pushing food inside so you could have some resemblance of normalcy. Your phone had been ringing for the past thirty minutes non stop, the ringtone you had put specifically for him, the song you had your first dance in your wedding. You think about that Lewis, that man who would never do anything that could hurt you. The one with dreams and promises, the man who would say he wanted kids with you, the one who always had a description of the kids you would have. She’ll have your eyes and my hair, he would say, daydreaming, hopefully she’ll have your beautiful smile, Lew, you would add.

Driving around for a while, your phone on Do not disturb, you watched the streets of Monaco, bustling with people, locals and tourists, walking around, going to boutiques and cafés, and you noticed how Monaco had never been your first choice to live in. You would rather a place a little bit colder, with lots of libraries and historical places, with mountains and lakes.

You went back home hours later, and as soon as you got inside, you were faced with Lewis, pale and visibly worried, phone in hand.

“Oh my god, I was so worried! I thought- I thought you had left me- Where were you?”

“Driving” you kicked your shoes and went to the kitchen to drink water. After downing two full glasses, you went outside, sitting by the view of the city.

You painfully loved him, the kind of love you once were happy to let yourself dive in, and now you were drowning.

“Please, can we talk about it?” He asked, by the balcony door as if he were afraid to scare you away like a skittish animal. You nodded, and he carefully sat on the chair beside you. “Can we work on it? Do you think you may have it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I don’t know, Lewis, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“We can do marriage counseling, we can do anything you want, we can- we can move, buy another place, we can adopt a kitten, like you’ve always wanted, or we can renew our vows, I can gi-give you a pass, so we’ll be even-”

“I honestly don’t know how to fix this, Lewis. I’m not sure it’s even fixable.”

You two stared into the horizon, lost in thoughts.

“Give me a chance, and I’ll fix it, love. I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”

“Tell me what happened,” you commanded, not looking at him.

“Love, please, don’t do this.”

“You want to fix this, right? Then start by telling me the whole truth.”

And he did. He told you who was, Kate-something, an influencer who had been a fling of his from the past, before you. They had met unexpectedly during the Vegas Grand Prix, she had been invited by some other team. He told you almost everything, leaving out details about the sex, but he told you everything else, and you listened, unmoved, only the tears falling down nonstop.

The next couple of days consisted of Lewis buying you things, food, jewelry, clothes and planning a trip for after the holidays. You slept in your room, and Lewis slept in the guest room, giving you space, to whenever you were comfortable to share a bed with him again. You had every meal together, sometimes he cooked, sometimes he had it delivered. You tried to engage in conversation, but in the end, Lewis was doing most of the talking. Chatting about news of his friends, about his team, about the plans for the trip.

As you sat in the office, you opened a drawer and picked up your resignation letter. You had left it written to hand it when you got back from the holidays. The letter was brief, thanking everyone for the opportunity to work at their company, thanking your boss for all the lessons and explaining you were leaving to become a homemaker. You scoffed at it now, ripping the letter in half and throwing it in the trash.

Maybe you needed to take a step back from everything. The plans and the dreams and the future. Maybe you just needed to give him a chance, you loved him so much, and this kind of love doesn’t go away with a snap of the fingers.

Maybe he was right and if you two started all over, maybe you could fix this.

“I know it might be too soon, but would you consider going on a date? Just like the old times,” he asked one morning a few days later, as you ate breakfast.

“Sure, Lewis.”

He nodded, and you knew he was feeling the way you didn’t call him love or honey anymore. He planned a date that same night. You dressed up to the nines, just to feel some normalcy, just to feel like yourself again. You had dressed in a black long sleeved dress, with some transparency in the sleeves, a black scarpin and you tied your hair in an elegant high ponytail and those bright red lipsticks Lewis liked.

He looked at you in wonder as you came down the stairs.

“You look stunning, my love.” He whispered, taking your hand and making you spin. You felt that spark in your stomach again, well, a little bit of that.

He took you to a two star restaurant, one you’d always go on date nights. He also drove you there in your favorite Mercedes. You decided to put in the effort, to make conversation, to engage with him the whole night. You ate, talked, laughed and drank a couple of wine glasses.

By the end of the night, you had felt a resemblance of normalcy again. When Lewis was picking the tab, you went to the toilet, and you saw a woman trying to change a baby’s diaper. She dropped the box of wet wipes, and you bent down to pick it.

“Thank you, lovely!” She said as you handed it back. You peeked at the baby, a little girl who couldn’t be older than a year.

“Hi there, princess!” You said with a baby voice.

“Can you keep an eye on her just as I pee quickly, I’m sorry to bother,” the mother asked.

“Don’t worry,” you said, carrying the baby she had just finished changing. As the woman entered the stall, you decided to ask, “How has it been, being a mom?”

“Oh, it’s amazing. Of course it’s not easy, but my husband has been a great help around the house and the baby. I couldn’t be happier!”

You looked to the mirror, the baby in your arms, and you imagined living this with Lewis. And you just couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t be there all the time anyway. He would be traveling the world, racing for his championship, you would follow him, but at some point you would have to stop, you would have to settle home the last trimester, and he wouldn’t be there. Would he miss your baby’s birth?

You wondered if he would cheat again when you weren’t there.

As you left the toilet, your mood had dwindled again.

Lewis noticed as you were quiet going home, head against the window, watching the city and mumbling the song playing in the car.

As you arrived home, you pushed Lewis against the sofa, he looked confused, but his eyes followed your hands as you pulled your dress up, bunching it around your hips so you could straddle his lap.

“Baby, I don’t think w-” he started talking, but you held his chin.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, pressing your lips against his.

You kissed him like you were starved, showing him how much you missed him, how much you loved him. He let you guide the kiss, opening your mouth and entangling your tongues, your hips grinding on him. He whispered nonsense as he kissed your face and neck, I missed you so much, love, nibbling at your neck, I love you my baby, pulling your dress down to free your tits, sucking on your nipples, missed this, baby, you’re so fucking sexy, you ground on him, moving and moaning as his hand held your ass, guiding your movements. You were so wet, you missed his touch so much.

As you looked down, seeing his lips latched onto your nipple, your mind drifted, wondering if he touched the other woman like this, if he talked dirty to her like that.

And you were immediately turned off.

“Stop, stop,” you pushed him and he let you go easily, scrambling to the sofa and away from his lap, “red, red!” You shouted your safe word.

Breathless, Lewis nodded, as you quickly pulled the cups of your dress up, covering your boobs and pulled your dress down, eyes watering. He stared at you, confused and not knowing how to act. You two were very creative in the bedroom, but you only used the safe word a few times whenever you two were in the mood for some BDSM scenes, you had never used your safe word in a normal setting.

“Are you ok?” He asked, finally and you just shook your head.

“Was she better than me?” You asked, voice small and vulnerable.

“What? Baby, no, never! You’re my everything.” He sat by your side, but you stood up in wobbly legs, nervous.

You wanted to ask why, if you were enough, if you were everything, then why he felt the need to do it. Why would he throw away so many years, such a beautiful love story that you used to joke you would tell your grandkids about.

You started walking away, but Lewis ran up to you and blocked your path.

“Please, let’s talk it out,” He asked, eyes pleading. You stared at his lips, and something inside you just snapped.

“I don’t want to talk! FUCK!” You pushed past him, “I look at you and I can only picture you with her! I feel your hands on my body and I hate it because I can only think of you touching her, and kissing her and fucking making love to her! Look at us! Look at everything you ruined because you just couldn’t not get your dick wet! Because you couldn’t wait five fucking days for me!”

You tried not to sob, running a hand over your face.

“And you were perfect and I love you, and I hate myself for loving you because I don’t trust you! I keep thinking that if one day I miss the flight to your race, will you cheat again? If- if I have to work and you suddenly feel lonely, will you cheat again? If we fight for some reason, will you cheat again?”

“We can fix this, we go to counseling or-

“FIX WHAT? I didn’t break anything! Because I love you so much that the idea of lying with another man disgusts me! You broke my heart, our home and our future!”

He was crying too when you looked at him.

You took the keys to his car and slipped away, driving around, trying to clear your head. Deep down you wished you could forgive and forget, you wished you could get over that mistake, but now everything around the house reminds you of his mistake.

You lost control of the car and crashed against a tree. It wasn’t a big crash, even though the hood of the car looked totalled. You called someone to take the destroyed car away, and you took an Uber to the hospital, just to make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard. In the hospital, they put a bandaid on the small cut and you held an ice pack above the swelling in the side of your forehead, they also gave you a few pills for the pain and possible headache.

You went back home hours later, and Lewis was waiting by the living room.

“Where were-” he stopped short, seeing the small cut on your forehead, “oh, god, what happened?”

“I crashed your car, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a big deal, I’m ok,” you walked into the kitchen to take one of the pills for the incoming headache.

“What? Why didn’t you call me?” Lewis followed you.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you repeated calmly.

“Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding!”

“I’m not, it was just a small piece of glass that grated my forehead, but I’m ok, it doesn’t really hurt,” you muttered, wanting to go to sleep, “I’m sorry about your car, I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the car! I’m worried about you!” He came closer, holding your face with both hands, looking around for any more injuries.

You stared at his face, his eyes that had been such a source of happiness and unconditional love were now painful to see. Handsome still, but you couldn’t see him as yours anymore. You took his hands off you gently.

“I’m ok. I’ll pay for your car.” You reinforced, taking a step back.

“Our car, love. You’re my wife. And you don’t have to pay for it.” He corrected you, but you couldn’t feel anything.

Because the car was his. All the cars were his. The house was his, too. The dog was his. The properties. Everything belonged to him. You belonged to him the whole time. And now you just didn’t anymore.

You had signed a prenup before the wedding, which had been an idea that came from Lewis’ lawyer. Your husband had been angrily against it, but you didn’t mind signing it, because it was never about the money. Even upset signing the prenup, Lewis still took all of your expenses, bills, house and cars, and everything else. There was a cheating clause on that document, one you never bothered to read or memorize because cheating was never on your mind.

A couple of days later you had barely said a word to him, and you were having breakfast when he approached you.

“I’ll call mum later, to tell her we’re not going to her birthday dinner,” Lewis informed you.

“No, we’re going. We’re not going to spoil her celebration because of our problems,” you shook your head.

So you went to dinner at his mom’s. Everyone was there and you brought her a gold necklace with a peony pendant, since it was her favorite flower. You and Lewis tried to pretend nothing was wrong as to not ruin the mood of the night. You still sat by his side, ate and talked with everyone. Lewis knew you were faking being ok, because your smiles didn’t reach your eyes anymore, and every time he tried any physical touch like holding hands, putting a hand on your shoulder or pulling you to his lap, your body would tense up, so he would let go of you.

By then end of the night, you were pretty sure everyone had believed your act, but when Carmen asked for help with taking her presents upstairs, you knew she knew too.

“What is going on, love? You’re not your usual self today.”

You felt your eyes filling up and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You adored Carmen, you adored Lewis’ family, his siblings, his parents and his nephews and nieces. But Carmen had become a second mum to you from the beginning, being the first person to welcome you with open arms.

“Talk to me, dear,” she asked and the kindness in her voice made you cry even more, sobbing so much she had to hug you holding you tight.

“This is probably the last time we’ll see each other as family, Carmen,” you warned her, and her face crumbled just like yours did.

“No… No, honey, what happened?” She asked, and you shook your head.

“You talk to him later, and I’m sure he will tell you whenever he’s ready,” you muttered, not wanting to meddle in a mother-son relationship, not wanting to poison it. You pulled the engagement ring from your finger, the beautiful engraved jewel, that had belonged to Carmen's family for generations, had ended up with you, and you had expected to pass it down to a kid you’d have with Lewis. You gave the ring back to her.

“For when he finds the one.”

“No, you’re the one for him, honey,” she exclaimed, teary eyed.

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” you stared longingly at the ring sitting on the palm of her hand.

“One day he will need it again, and he will find someone and you’ll love her just as much. I’ll be just the distant past, but I hope you save a little space in your heart for me, yeah?” You laughed a little bit, wiping the tears on your cheeks. She only nodded, her own tears falling down. “Thank you for taking me in all these years, for embracing me into your family, I’m very grateful for that.”

You two cried a little more, and you tried to mask your crying face after a few minutes in the bathroom.

In the end, unfortunately, Lewis' family convinced you to stay the night since it would be a long drive back to Lewis’ place in London. You ended up sharing a bed for the first time since he admitted to cheating. You laid there with your back turned to him in the dark.

You couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours, but he did. When you turned back around, you stared at his beautiful face. Your dreamy, handsome husband. You softly traced imaginary lines in his face, tracing his eyebrows and nose, the tip of your finger running over his lips and cupids’ bow. How could you love someone so deeply and still not want to be with them? How could you not just put everything behind?

He knew you so well, he knew of you past of being cheated on, of going through abusive relationships. He knew where you draw the lines. He knew your limitations and still went ahead with cheating on you.

You got up from the bed, you went to the small armchair, opening your iPad to try and watch a movie or something to help you sleep. But as you unlocked it, the tab open was the project you had made for the family home you and Lewis were going to build for when you had kids. The finished project hit you like a punch in the gut.

You went inside the bathroom and took a break. It was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep, so you just sat on the closed toilet to try and calm down the aching pain in your chest. When you came back, Lewis was awake going through your iPad you had left unlocked.

“What’s- What’s this?”

“It’s the project for our home, I was going to gift it to you on your birthday,” you whispered, sitting by his side on the floor, your backs to the bed.

Lewis sniffled, and you didn’t look at his face because you didn’t want to see him cry. He kept looking at the project, going page after page, seeing all the details you had thoughtfully put there. He started crying even harder when he saw the nurseries you had designed. When he saw the tennis court, because you and him loved playing with his dad, and talked countless times about teaching your kids to play. When Lewis saw the big kitchen with the panel wall where you could place pictures and drawings and notes. When he saw the sunroom, with toys and your small library, and Lewis’ videogames. All the tidbits you and him had dreamed about during your five years relationship.

“We can’t let this all go, love” he said between soft cries.

“God, I hate metaphors,” you whispered, drying the tears that came down, “but we’re a broken mirror, Lewis. We can try and fix it, and glue all the pieces back together, but the cracks will still be there.”

“I don't know how I messed up this badly, I don’t even know why-” he set the iPad down, staring at his hands, “I’m so sorry, so so sorry.”

You only nodded, getting up. You went back to bed, laying under the covers.

“I know,” you whispered after a few minutes. He came back to bed too, laying beside you without touching you.

“The project is beautiful. I love it.” He muttered staring at the ceiling.

“I do too.”

When you left his mom’s house, with a tight goodbye hug with Carmen, Lewis had to go to Brackley for work and you went back to Monaco.

You thought you may have a chance to fix everything. But as the days he was away passed, you started to wonder if he went to England to really work. If he wasn’t going to meet someone, the Kate-something, or any other of his flings from the past. If he even was in Brackley as he said he was.

The trust was gone.

As if it wasn’t bad enough as it was, the lady, Kate-something texted you. You had no idea how she got your number, and the text read:

“Ask your husband what he did after the Las Vegas GP.”

You scoffed, thinking she was a little late for a shocking revelation. You screenshotted the text just in case and blocked her number after, without bothering to let Lewis know about it.

You were one foot out of the door already.

The dreaded day came when you met with a lawyer, a big shot famous lawyer who always worked with famous people when they wanted a low profile divorce. She was very respectful of all your wishes, though with the small fortune you were going to pay for her services, being polite and helpful was the least she could do. She drafted a divorce agreement following all your requirements, especially in regards to the prenup.

The next few days, you read and reread the divorce papers, leaving them in the locked drawer in your office.

When Lewis came back from the Mercedes factory, it was night and you were having a glass of wine by the balcony.

“Want a nightcap?” You offered your glass to him. He nodded, taking a sip off the half full glass, “how was work?”

He told you about all the work in the factory, going to dinner with his teammate and meeting with his boss. It was almost like before, for a few minutes it was just a regular day in your married life. Lewis helped you put everything away in the kitchen and you went upstairs.

When he was about to go into the guest room, you stopped him.

“Lewis,” you asked and he looked at you hopefully, “can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

So you settled in for sleep, both of you going through your nightly routine, and finally, laying in bed. You took the initiative to cuddle him, nose against his neck, inhaling his scent and your ear above his heart.

You slept great for the first time since you were in separate beds. But you woke up in the middle of the night. And the way the little lampshade by the bedside table lit up the side of his face, peacefully asleep, handsome and yours. Fully yours still.

You couldn’t help the small kiss on his chest, above his heart, the other kiss on his cheek, and a third one on his neck, that had him waking up.

“Baby?” Lewis looked at you. You kissed his lips, open mouthed, sloppy and desperate.

“Shh,” you kissed his chest again, now he was fully awake, surrendered under your touch. You straddled him, your body missing him so much, his touch and his love, and the twilight making everything feel like before, you couldn’t help but desire him with burning passion.

“Love,” he stopped you, holding your jaw softly, “are you sure?”

“Please, just be mine tonight, yeah?” You asked him in a small voice.

“I’m yours forever, love.”

And so you drowned in him, one last time. You tossed your pajamas away, as he sat up in the bed, kissing your neck down, biting softly at your nipples, taking it painfully slow just in case you changed your mind. You ground against him, his cock hard under your ministrations. You pulled his pants down, and he kicked it to the floor, as you slid your cunt over his length, dripping over him, moaning loud and hearing his groans as his hands settled on your hips, letting you take control, doing whatever you wanted.

You got on your knees just so you could line him up at your entrance, pushing down slowly, letting him stretch you well, your body accommodating him perfectly like it should always be. And so you started riding him, slowly at first, but then you pounded him into the mattress, fucking him into oblivion. His hands were all around, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist and slapping your ass the way he knew drove you crazy. He fingered your clit, making you cum around his cock shamelessly fast, hips shaking and cunt gripping him tight.

“Can- oh, fuck,” he asked after a particularly hard clench of your dripping cunt, “-Can you give me one more, my baby?”

Then, he changed positions, laying you by his side, hugging you with one arm and using the other to lift your leg so he could have room to fuck you slow, lazy and nice, pressing your g-spot again and again. He smothered your lips with his tongue and teeth, stealing your moans, as your hands pressed his body into yours. You wanted to melt into him, to leave fingerprints and nail marks all over him. You wanted him to have a permanent indentation of your body pressed to his.

Selfishly, you wanted him to never forget you. To be a part of him in the forever he promised you. Even if you won’t be there.

“Look at me,” he asked, and you opened your eyes to meet his dark molten embers so full of love that it threatened to suffocate you, “you’re the only woman for me. You’re my everything.”

He picked up the pace a little, going harder, until he had you gushing around him, making a mess of your sheets and milking him until he was groaning, hips stuttering into release.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Feel so good for me,” he murmured into the dark, “I love you so so much.”

You two hugged back to sleep.

In the morning you showered, brushed your teeth and changed. You stopped in the middle of the room, staring at Lewis’ sleeping form. In the closet you packed a bag, putting clothes and shoes on it, then you grabbed your iPad, laptop and work stuff, then you called a taxi and waited.

You left the divorce agreement on the kitchen island, alongside your wedding band, your lawyer’s contact information and a small note. You were crying as you got into the taxi, leaving behind the future plans you had hoped to live.

It took you a couple of months to get your shit together. You spent Christmas with your family only for the first time in years, and you didn’t travel for New Year’s Eve with Lewis as planned, you didn’t resign from your job, instead opting for a relocation so you could move away.

Finding a new place in Scotland was relatively easy considering you had a good amount of savings because Lewis always paid all the bills, you found a place where you could dedicate yourself to work and to write your book and to heal.

•

Lewis found the house empty that next morning. You had made love to him again, and he thought that maybe you two could salvage the marriage. But as he looked for you around the house, he found the divorce agreement in the kitchen. His stomach dropped as he held your wedding band, and the other hand found your note.

“Seems like I’m a coward too, since I can’t face you to say goodbye. Take this divorce agreement to your lawyer, and any questions you might have, please forward it to my lawyer, she’ll explain everything. I love you, but I don’t trust you. And nothing good can be built in a trustless marriage. The next time you find a good one, don’t break her heart.”

He cried like a baby, going over your divorce agreement that was signed by you. You had given up everything, you didn’t want anything of his, not any cars or property, not any financial support, not even the house that had your name on it too. You voided the prenup, stating that you didn’t want the alimony that came with the cheating clause. Looked like a clean break, like you didn’t want anything that could tie you to Lewis.

He tried calling you and texting you, but seemed like you had blocked him on everything. He went through the motions, meeting with your lawyer who, despite the fame of being tough, was really kind to him. He told your lawyer that he wanted you to take the alimony that came with the cheating clause because it was only fair, and he wouldn’t sign the divorce if you didn’t accept the money.

So after a few weeks, Lewis' lawyer got in contact to tell him you accepted the money, as long as he would sign the divorce as soon as possible. By the New Year, you were officially a divorced couple.

•

You got settled on your new home by the end of the first month of the year, three weeks after the divorce was finalized. You moved to a little north of Edinburgh, not too far from the city, but far enough that you could have some sense of peace and privacy.

You still had a tan line on your ring finger of the left hand.

You only realized your period was late the week later, as you were doing grocery shopping and house supplies, and you noticed you haven’t got your period for a while. Despite being a grown woman, worker and independent, you felt shaky fingers as you took a pharmacy test.

While you waited, you stayed in front of the mirror. You had felt a bit of nausea, but you attributed it to stress and disgust, and you had been feeling tired but you thought it was because of the moving and all the paperwork. You ran your palm over your stomach, trying to feel something, but it felt so normal.

When the time’s up and you leaned over the sink to check the result, you sighed reading the 8 - 10 weeks pregnant.

“That’s ok, baby,” you whispered, teary eyed, “we’re gonna be ok.”

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton +18 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #Spotify

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maybankswhore · 1 year

Text

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄.” “𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃.”

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader.

SUMMARY: you’re always there when he needs you.

jj hadn’t talked to you in weeks. he knew it was wrong. to just , disappear the way he did. but he couldn’t keep doing it. the whole ‘relationship’ thing. it wasn’t that he didn’t love you , because , fuck , did he love you. but he loved you too much.

he loved you in the way he searched for your face in everyone he came across. always scanning for the familiarity of you in crowds. he loved you in the way that his heart would race when you held his hand , dragging him along the shore of the beach rambling about your special interests. holding on to every word , storing it in a part of his brain that he specifically reserved for you and everything you loved or didn’t.

he loved you so much to the point that it fucking petrified him.

and so jj did was jj was the best at— ignoring the problem and hope it goes away.

he thought he could just ignore you , forget you. erase the mere memory of ever coming across you.

he didn’t want to. he knew he didn’t. and if he thought about it too long he’d cry and cry like a little boy , clutching onto himself to help self sooth the pain he had inflicted onto himself.

it was better this way. he told himself over and over. that’s what he told john b when he was confronted about your absence. that’s what he told pope who could tell he missed you dearly. he repeated it to kiara who’d scold him about ghosting you.

this way he was in control of when it ended. you didn’t have the chance to leave him , to hurt him.

to abandon him.

and maybe that’s why he was so angry.

so angry to the point that all of that sadness and hurt mixed together and blinded him from the matter at hand.

so angry he’d get into a fight at the country club and earn himself a cell to sit and think about what he did.

jj was leaning against the wall , eyes closed as he hummed some tune to distract him from what was happening all around him.

“maybank!”

his eyes shot up at the officer who looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl and eyes roll. eyebrows up , he cocked his head to the side. “yes?”

the officer unlocked the cell door and moved back , glaring at the young troublemaker. “you’re free to go. ride’s here.”

jj jumped up triumphantly , saluting him in the process. he had expected john b or pope waiting for him outside , anyone really. anyone but you.

as he walked outside and saw you leaning against your car with your eyes wide with worry , he froze in his spot. immediately his heart thumped in his chest. looking around , there was nobody else around.

“y/n?” he said lowly , cheeks flushing in embarrassment. one because he hadn’t spoken to you in weeks and two because the first time he’d speak to you after those weeks were from him being thrown in jail for fighting.

your head perked up at your name , relief flashing over you. you practically ran towards him , throwing arms around his shoulders instinctively. “jj! i was so worried about you. i-i heard about what happened and they called me because i was on your emergency list and everyone else was busy when i called so—”

“you came?” jj’s hands were frozen at his side , his chest hammering into his head. “but-”

“you called.” you pulled away and gave him a small smile. “and i’ll always answer when it’s you.”

the weight of your words hit him harder than he had ever felt before. he had always been so used of being alone , or falling into john b and pope’s arms because the pogue’s were all he had— but maybe he did have you. maybe. . . maybe you wouldn’t leave.

jj held back the tears he felt begging to flow , and his arms felt like jelly as he wrapped them around your waist and held him to you tightly. your hair still smelled the same , you still scrunched the fabric of his shirt in your hands when you hugged him.

“i’m sorry , y/n.” jj mumbled into your hair , sniffling just a bit— holding onto his composure. “i didn’t want you to leave me.” he choked back a sob as he confessed all what he had been feeling , all what he was too scared to say then. “and i know that it was selfish and i know i don’t deserve for you to be here right now but i’m so fucking scared and i hate being scared.”

you sighed. you couldn’t say you weren’t mad or upset that jj hadn’t talked to you sooner , that he just stopped answering your calls and messages.

but jj was different. and he was special. and you knew he had never been loved the right way. and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect himself.

you rubbed your hand down his back soothingly , fisting the fabric of shirt. “it’s okay.” you assured him. “i’m not mad at you anymore.”

jj pulled away and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand quickly. “you should be. you should hate me.”

“i could never hate you.” you shook your head , cupping his cheek gently to avoid touching the bruised parts. “i missed you.”

jj held onto your hand that held his cheek , kissing the palm of it softly. “i missed you. . .”

you looked into his eyes and saw how he looked at you. and he didn’t need to say it.

you could be patient.

“let’s get you home , j.”

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx #outer banks #outer banks blurb #outer banks imagines

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wqnwoos · 1 year

Text

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (hhu ver.)

an / entirely written for a friend of mine but here. also whoever is reading this i love u have a good day 💓💕💖💗💞💘💝💖💞💕💗

vocal unit ver.

SEUNGCHEOL.

bear hugs that are somehow simultaneously gentle but also tight

props his chin on your head/shoulder

murmurs in your ear a couple times to make sure you’re alright

“hello?”

“hi,” you say softly into the phone. “um. it’s me.”

you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice when he replies. “hi, baby. everything okay?”

“yeah!” you respond, too quickly with a voice pitched slightly too high. “everything’s fine! just… gonna go to bed now, i think.”

“i’m on my way home right now.” cheol answers the unasked question with ease. “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cuddles.”

which is why he’s unsurprised when you’re waiting by the door the moment he arrives home, clad in your pyjamas with a freshly-washed face, flinging your arms around his neck the moment he crosses the threshold.

WONWOO.

will quite literally let u do anything

most patient man fr

his hands, his hair, his thigh — it’s free real estate (but only for you)

it’s nearing 1 in the morning when you start missing wonwoo’s touch.

he’s not far, just on soonyoung’s couch. dinner had turned quickly into drinking games — you’d sat out, instead volunteering to clean the kitchen with vernon and jihoon. which was nice and fun and whatever, but as you sidle up to where wonwoo’s sitting on the sofa, you feel the sudden intense urge to just… cling.

that’s how you end up next to him, with his large hands in yours, you fiddling with his fingers, tracing his palm lines — comparing hand sizes and stroking his knuckles. he doesn’t even flinch, just listening to jeonghan’s story and nodding in all the right places; at some point, he even raises your joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over your knuckles, leaving you blushing with the slightest smirk tilting his lips.

MINGYU.

will drop everything to give you the hugs that you need and deserve (and i mean EVERYTHING)

good luck trying to get him to let go

the things i’d do to be hugged by him… those arms probably feel like the safest place in the world

it’s been one of those days — long and tiring and just wrong. which is why when mingyu hugs you in greeting as you step inside, it takes you all of two seconds to burst into tears.

“baby? are you — oh, sweetheart,” he gasps, as you start to shake into his chest. “don’t cry. c’mere. my baby, what is it? what happened?”

you can’t do anything but blubber helplessly, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, pressing loving kisses everywhere he can reach. his arms stay around you the entire time, as he guides you to the couch, pulls you into his lap and soothes you with gentle touches and quiet murmurs. before he eventually starts cracking jokes — “i’ll buy out your company and never make you work again, if you want.” — and ordering your favourite takeout.

VERNON.

lets you do anything to him (2)

he’s so funny i feel like sometimes he’s just calling you dude but also he might just come out with the smoothest shit right when you don’t expect it

probably fiddles with your hair when he hold you

“vernon?”

“mm?” he glances up from him phone to find you standing in the doorway of the bedroom with round, pleading eyes. he knows immediately that you want something, and also knows immediately that he’ll grant you whatever it is. he always does, when you look at him like that.

you hesitate. “can i get a hug?”

as if he’d ever deny you that. he slides off the bed in one fluid motion, opening his arms and dropping his phone. “of course. come here.”

about a minute later, he attempts a pull away — you whine and tighten your arms, speaking into his shirt with a muffled plea. “just — a little longer? please?”

“as long as you want. i’ve got all day for you, baby.”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen headcanons #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo comfort #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol comfort #mingyu fluff #mingyu comfort #mingyu x reader #vernon fluff #vernon comfort #vernon x reader

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stxrslut · 2 months

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dealer!jj who coaches you through your first ever bad trip :(

he’s seen plenty of his clients have bad trips before, he knows sometimes the body goes haywire, he doesn’t often acknowledge it much. If they text him frantically he’ll just mute their number. if they call, he’ll tell them to drink a glass of water and then hang up. if they happen to be at his place when it happens, he’ll do the courtesy of driving them back to their own home to deal with it by themselves.

but when you stumble up onto his patio, looking distressed and far too pale for comfort, he’s up in an instant. you’re one of his more… lightweight clients, he’ll admit that. but something more than that is going on right now.

“jj— help,” you whimper, tripping over and nearly falling, but he catches you just in time. he looks panicked, his eyes wide as he looks you over and tries to figure out what’s happening.

when he catches on he immediately calms down, because he knows how to handle this “oh oh— okay. you’re okay.” he gently guides you over towards the couch and onto his lap.

you curl up and cling to him, his body is warm, and it’s soothing compared to the freezing cold you’re currently experiencing. “what’s happening to me?” you’re voice shakes as tears stream down your cheeks.

he shushes you, brushing a stand of hair out of your face “you’re havin’ a bad trip sweetie. It’s okay.” he presses a kiss to your temple. “told you not to smoke the whole thing at once…” he murmurs, still doing his best to soothe your panicked self with gentle touches.

“I didn’t mean to,” you sniffle “but everyone was tellin’ me to and- and I didn’t- I couldn’t say no!” jj’s gaze is sympathetic, he’s been subject to peer pressure a few times himself, and he knows that it’s even worse when the consequences suck.

“gotta stop lettin’ people walk all over you sweetie— gonna get you hurt one day.” he chastises gently, trying his best not to be accusatory in your vulnerable moment. you just cry more “stop tellin’ me off!” you wail, hitting him on the chest weakly as you try to out your frustration. “okay— okay. you’re okay. we’re gonna get you feeling better in no time…”

the next few hours are a bit of a blur, at one point you got real dizzy, at another point you couldn’t stop laughing, at another point you vomited all over yourself.

jj takes good care of you, he changes your clothes and calms you down when you panic. he cuddles up with you so you can find some solace in his touch. it’s very late at night when you finally start to come out of it.

you’re curled up at jj’s side on the couch, exhausted. he’s got one of his shitty old dystopian movies playing on the tv, and he’s helping you take sips of water every few minutes.

your head hurts, jj had told you to expect that when you sobered up. “I think m’ feelin’ better…” you murmur, burrowing further into his chest, eyes half lidded already.

“yeah? s’good sweetie.” he smiles, giving the top of your head another kiss. he knows he’s being too touchy, but he’s decided that until you’re back to 100%, then it’s excusable.

“think I might be hungry…” you muse, and he chuckles, “‘m afraid you probably don’t want anything from my pantry, unless you have a taste for stale beer and mould..” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, and then speaks again “actually I might have some soup— oh…”

he stops in his tracks when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him. he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that you’re finally better, before attempting to move from under you.

you whine, pulling him back down, face set in a sleepy frown. he chuckles, laying back down where he was. “okay— I’ll stay…”

#i kinda hate this #dealer!jj #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank concept #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank

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lunargrapejuice · 19 days

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diluc is acting sort of . . .. odd. hes definitely hiding something but won't say what it is. at some point he gets a package and he . . . smiles?? what is in that package- turns out, he wrote a book- about falconry and raising birds. it just got published and he got the first print. telling people felt too much like bragging to him, so he didn't say what it was.

anyways i totally didn't cry writing this

diluc ragnvindr x reader with no pronouns used | 3k+ words

you don’t know if you would ever get used to being addressed as a ragnvindr.

everytime you hear it, your beloved name now your own, it makes your heart soar and the butterflies in your stomach awake with a fiery spark. you’re certain even years after your marriage to diluc and no matter who is calling you it, you’ll feel the same as you do now, from a delivery boy who you often saw bringing packages to the winery and always called you so formally.

“oh hey johnny,” you greet the young boy with a smile and close the book you had been reading after slipping a bookmark between the pages.

his light brown hair looks almost blonde in the afternoon sunlight and there's a pink hue to his cheeks and his chest rises and falls quickly, as if he had run from the city to the winery. shuffling forward, he holds out the package with a slight bow of his head.

“i- i’m sorry, i couldn’t find adelinde,” he stutters apologetically. “so i hope you don’t mind me leaving this package for master diluc with you.”

“it’s no problem,” you assure him, reaching for the package and are surprised by the weight of it in your hands when johnny lets go. “i’ll be sure it gets to diluc.”

he straightens and takes a quick step forward, “thanks so much!”

“get back safe,” you call after him and he waves a hand goodbye without looking back.

turning the package over in your hands, you wonder what it could be. it’s not very large but is a bit thick, a little bigger than the book you had been reading a moment ago and heavier but you don’t know what it is. diluc hadn’t mentioned he was expecting anything but if johnny had hurried from the city to bring it, you didn’t want to leave diluc waiting.

with your book and the package held close to your chest, you look for bright vermillion hair in the sea of green and purple among the vineyard on your way back to the manor from where you had been reading in your garden but you hardly find anyone outside and the manor is even quieter. no wonder johnny hadn’t been able to find adelinde.

the study is pristine as it always is; ledgers and contracts stacked neatly on the self. the ink and quill on dilucs desk placed perfectly next to each other, waiting to be used. the chair tucked in behind the desk, though dilucs dark jacket hangs on the back on it, like he had perhaps left in a hurry and hadn’t gotten the chance to think about putting it back on before he had to go.

you place the package in the middle of his desk with care and run your fingers along the tassels of his coat as you take quiet and tentative steps back to the door, as if you might disturb his work but didn’t want to part from him all the same even though he wasn’t in here. you look back into the study before closing the door, drinking in every detail and reminder of him that lingers throughout the room.

little wandering throughout the manor looking, longing, for diluc brought you to the cellar where all the normal commotion of the winery, and then some, was packed into the basement space. it was freezing down here, enough so you could see clouds of your breath the deeper you went. every worker and maid hurried about, covered in blotches and deep stains of wine and when you spot diluc, you see he was no exception.

so steadily he stood out among the crowd of people running from place to place trying to fix whatever disaster had happened down here since you left earlier this afternoon. he was like a pillar, calm among the storm, though just as soaked as everyone else was in this mess.

as if he had heard you coming even among the commotion, he turns to face you and your heart skips a beat seeing the stern look on his face turn softer when your eyes meet but it melts into something almost guilty, or maybe it was mischievous, when you ask, “what in the world happened down here?”

“the equipment was able to purify the mist flowers extract,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand, tendrils of thick red locks bouncing in the movement. you see a flash of a wicked grin tug at his lips, one you can’t mistake. it wasn’t often you got to see diluc like this but when you did.. it's so hard to put into words, you think, but it only made you love him more. “but.. it didn’t come without its complications.”

“how can i help?”

diluc smiles softly at you, ruby eyes full of adoration. “it’s mostly taken care of down here. conor will see to the rest.” he knows his gloves are sticky with wine and lets his fingers ache when they go to reach for your hand but he doesn’t allow them to connect. “walk back with me to get cleaned up?”

uncaring about the damp spots on his dress shirt, you hold onto his arm as you walk through the bustling staff and up the stairs back to the quietness of the main floor. he had told you of his plans with the elemental extract a few nights ago and on your walk back to your bed room explains how of one of the valve components of the distiller had burst in the process of make it and in the mess it made, another vat full of wine been penetrated and though the batch is bad now regardless, he was able to stop the leak before it ended up all over cellar.

“how was your afternoon?” he asks as you make yourself comfortable on the edge of the bed. now in the bedroom diluc begins to shed his stained clothes starting with his gloves and then his vest. “i expected you to be in the garden for a while longer.”

“oh!” you had nearly forgotten about why you came back to the manor earlier than you thought you would. “johnny dropped a package off for you so i was just bringing that in.”

you saw his hands still on the second to the last button of his vest but underneath his hair that hides his face with him looking down at his clothes you couldn’t make out the expression he wore. he clears his throat, like he wants to say something but chooses not to and goes back to undressing.

“i left it on your desk,” you add, now even more curious as to what it could have been but you don’t pry.

“thank you,” is all he says and changes the subject but you can’t help but feel like he’s purposely diverting your attention elsewhere.

and you can’t deny how good he is at it either because how could you possibly resist your husband undressing and redressing right in front of you and the few selfish moments of kisses he stole before returning back to work.

hand in hand, fresh leather already warm with his natural heat separating your skin, you walk back with him to the study. in your far too little minutes together, life at the winery had already started to settle back to normal and elzer was waiting nearby with paperwork in hand needing the master's attention.

not wanting to disturb the work he was no doubt behind on thanks to the incident in the cellar, you don’t protest when diluc has to leave you with a tender kiss to your lips at the threshold of the study and delves back into work.

you linger there, quiet and unable to take your eyes off of your beloved. with a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest you watch him hold the package in his hand for a moment with a small smile on his lips before he tucks it into his desk drawer and takes the first paper from the stack elzer had given him.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

over the next few days you couldn’t stop thinking about how odd diluc had acted over the package. at first you thought it was just a coincidence or maybe you were reading him wrong and for sure over thinking about it. perhaps the distillery equipment breaking really had made him more upset than he let on but with no one hurt in the incident, he hadn’t said anything more other than having elzer order new equipment and thanked conor for his hard work with the extract. or it could have been something else entirely but he hadn’t seemed bothered or upset as far as you could tell.

you were fully and completely convinced it wasn’t just you however when you floated into the study with a bowl of fruit to share in the middle of the day after you saw the tray with his lunch that he had hardly touched before adelinde brought it back to the kitchen hours later.

as usual during this time of day, there are stacks of paperwork all around his desk. most of them are likely finished, all of them in neat piles and sorted accordingly. eagerly diluc accepts you into his lap with open arms but not before he takes the paper he had been working on and sets it over something you didn’t get a look at before it was blocked from your view.

it was a quick transition of movements, one he probably hadn’t expected you to catch or see or question but when he saw your eyes following his hand, he was quick to gather you in his arms and have your back facing that part of the desk with you now in his lap.

“everything okay?” you ask, hugging the bowl of fruit closer to you, trying to hide both the curiosity and slight hurt you were feeling.

it wasn’t like diluc to keep something from you and maybe this wasn’t even about the package. it's not necessarily that you’re scared it's something bad, even when you were still feeling.. well worried. but if diluc wasn’t telling you, it was for a good reason. you just hope that reason isn’t ‘so you won’t get hurt’ or worry while he wasn’t considering himself getting injured or that him doing something dangerous would worry you no matter how capable you know he is or how in the dark you are about it.

a gentle hand on your face stops your thoughts, your worries, in their tracks. as if they had seen you running away with them and grabbed you along the endless looping track, not letting you go a step further. needing no strength at all, diluc lifts your gaze to meet his; piercing red and full of burning conviction. on bated breath you wait for his answer.

“everything is more than okay.” he always sounds so sure but right now you couldn’t think that to be more true. there’s nothing but love and happiness and truth in his eyes, how he holds you- how he kisses you and the way he smiles into the next one after tasting the fruit you had brought already on your lips.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

diluc had certainly quelled your fears and in the days following it continues to stay that way but your curiosity was another story entirely. not much made you husband so secretive towards you, how could you not wonder what it is and especially if it was nothing for you to worry about? there wasn’t a birthday or anniversary coming up so you didn’t think it would be a gift and anything else you tried to think of just left you wondering more.

so here you were, offering for adelinde to leave cleaning up the study to you tonight. after all, you knew how diluc liked it and thought he would appreciate the love you would put into as well and if you happened to come across something similar to the size of the package, you could be satisfied.

the study door had been left open, the evening light spilling through the open curtains and painting the room in a warm yellow glow. you can still smell his intoxicating scent, heavy and rich but the warmth of him is long gone. he was supposed to be in the city by now.

everything looks as it always does, minus the paperless desk but they seem to be replaced by something else that draws your attention. rounding the desk, your hand gliding along the edge of the wood, you see it’s a beautifully bound book. the leather is stained a deep maroon and the gold lettering matches the intricate swirls lining the edges of the cover. engraved into the front of the leather is a silhouette of a falcon with its wings extended long and when you run your fingers gingerly over it, you can feel the details of the feathers and the outline of its beak.

it’s not a book you’ve seen before, though you can’t say you’ve seen every book that calls the manor home but this one looks new, untouched, maybe never even read. picking it up and resting the spine along your forearm and spread palm, you open it and with a crisp crackle of the bindings, the first page settles. reading the few words on the page in dilucs elegant and looping writing, your eyes immediately begin to water with the overwhelming emotions bubbling in your chest.

for my father and my love thank you for everything - D

you can both see and feel the shake of your hand that turns the next page and it takes all of your strength to pull it away from you so your tears don’t ruin any of the page. it’s a picture you know well, an unmistakable memory that you would never forget. despite the black and white ink of it, you remember each vivid color, the blueness of the sky and all the shades of brown and black of majestic wings and the weight of dilucs hand on your back as you watched his falcon take flight after leaving his arm.

it was a picture adelinde had taken without either of you knowing it, one that had ended up on his desk some time later and now was in here..

finding it best to sit down to flip through more of it lest you keep crying, which you’re certain you will, you sink into the big office chair and continue to feel the love, the care, the time and knowledge that your beloved poured into every detail he had learned and loved about falcons and his experience with raising his own. the life long companionship he had found in her and the way she must have felt it too, following whenever he went.

you wanted to take in every detail despite how much of it he had already told you and your own opportunities you shared with the beautiful birds. you wanted to know why diluc hadn’t told you he had wrote this or been working on it. you wanted to keep it close and cherish it forever, tell him what a wonderful job he had done. you wanted to tell him how proud you were of him always and that you love him.

like he had heard your heart calling out for his own, when you look up to wipe your tears on the back of your hand, you’re surprised to see him standing at the threshold of the door with his arms folded and a strikingly handsome yet bashful look on his face but at the sight of you crying it quickly turns to worry.

“i was going to tell you,” his voice wavers with emotion and he takes a step inside, clenching his fist at his side.

“you wrote this?” you ask, the smile you break into cracking your voice. of course he wrote it but it’s all your brain could let out when you were still swirling with so much love and adoration all you could do was cry it out or else you might explode in a burst of hearts and pyro crystal flies.

he clears his throat, avoiding your gaze and in the remaining sunlight, you catch the pink spreading across his face and to his ears. “i did.”

“diluc.. it’s incredible and so beautiful.” archons that didn’t feel close to what each page brought out in you. closing the book, you stand to meet him and as soon as he's within reach, your arms are around his waist and your face is buried in his chest, the remaining of your tears caught on his shirt.

strong arms pull you against him, one splayed at the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your skull, keeping you pressed close. he breathes you in, resting his lips on the crown of your head but doesn’t say anything.

“why were you keeping it a secret?” you ask quietly after a moment, when your tears are dry and all you can do is smile against him.

“it’s only the first print,” he says as if it’s not a big deal but his heart blooms open under your loving touch and the emotions he saw it bring out in you as he watched you flip through a couple of pages. “.. and i wanted to be sure it was perfect before i gave it to you.”

“it’s for me?” here came the tears again. there was already so little space between you but it’s not enough and you squeeze him tighter to try to ease the tightness the distance brings out in your chest.

“yes,” he answers barely above a whisper, letting his fingers tangle in your hair and his arm wrap around your middle so you’re flush against him. “i wanted you to have the first copy.”

“‘luc..” unable to let go, you crane your neck to look up at him and your eyes flutter at the pressure of his forehead resting on yours, the tickle of his hair on your cheeks.

“i wouldn’t have been able to write it without you.”

lifting on your toes, your hands clutching the back of his coat and you capture his lips in a tender kiss that’s a bit salty from your tears but oh so perfect. you’re thankful he’s holding onto you with how weak your knees feel at the slot of his lips against yours, how they fit together like two halves of one soul, one heart.

“i love you,” your voice is breathless against his lips but diluc hears you clearly and feels the truth of it, the unconditionalness of it, resonating in his heart.

“i love you so much.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact fluff #diluc ragnvindr fluff #diluc #diluc x reader #genshin x reader

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noiryinn · 2 months

Text

game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

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