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scuderiahalf · 1 day

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always you — mick schumacher

pairing. mick schumacher x verstappen!merc racing engineer!fem!reader

summary. mick had always been inexplicably tied to you, no matter what distance grew between you. even if it took over two decades for you to figure it out, it had always been mick. it would always be mick. 5.4k, 18+

playlist. "invisble string" by taylor swift, "the perfect pair" by beabadoobee, "moves" by suki waterhouse, "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys, "let the light in feat. father john misty" by lana del ray

warnings. pining, mick is kind of very much pitiful in this alright, smut, l-bombs, sort of sub!mick, google translated german, almost choking, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex

. . .

"I'm telling you what the data says, and it says you're wrong, so follow the damn line, George."

Mick fought a smile as you told George off over the radio. Toto cast you a look that you didn't even seem to see, let alone acknowledge. The team principal didn't look all that surprised when you didn't take your eyes off the screens of data you were getting input from.

In the next lap, George's lap time dropped nearly four seconds thanks to your suggestion. George didn't offer an apology for doubting you and you didn't expect one; you only expected him to be consistent in how he attacked turns seven and eight, to continue following your instructions.

Mick had observed your and George's relationship over the last few seasons you had been working with him. As George's racing engineer, you had quite a close working relationship with the Brit.

Off track, you were good if unlikely friends. Where George was all pretense and propriety and politeness, you were nothing but brutally honest, succinct, and to the point. But you were close in age and often seen together chatting and laughing.

On track, you were pretty much the same, if not even more blunt, if that was possible. George fed off your no-nonsense attitude, communicating clearly and without any of the fluff normally gracing his conversational skills.

Mick admired how well you worked with George. He admired just about everything you did. You could sit there doing absolutely nothing and F1TV would catch Mick staring at you like a lovesick fool again.

He still doesn't know how he hadn't seen the cameraman filming him as he watched you from across the garage two weekends ago. People kept referring to him as "Heart Eyes" Schumacher and he really could not blame them after seeing the clip of himself watching you.

You hadn't said anything to him about it. In fact, you hadn't said anything to him all season. Or during pre-season. Or in the two years prior when he was driving for Haas. Or in the thirteen years it had been since your dads had their falling out.

Mick would have liked to talk to you. He would have liked to talk about nothing or everything like you used to. He would have listened to you ramble about statistics and analytics and anything you wanted, even if he didn't understand a word of it.

But you had looked at him maybe three times since he signed on as Mercedes reserve driver. You either didn't remember or—more likely, knowing your keen mind—you didn't care about your shared history.

Even if it was in your childhood and so much had changed since then, Mick still remembered. He remembered playdates and shared family vacations and spending every second together that you could before your dad dragged you away.

He remembered noticing how different your dad treated you than his dad treated him. He remembered sleeping over once and hearing your dad screaming at you until you ran to your bedroom in tears. He remembered telling his dad about it all.

He remembered how he was the one to ruin everything.

You didn't seem to remember any of it—or, at least, you never seemed to reminisce on it. Never got caught up staring at him wondering how things could have been different. Never got distracted by unexplainable yet unavoidable and likely unrequited feelings for someone that was once your friend over a decade ago.

When he was with Haas, your lack of interaction could be excused; you were on different teams. Since he had signed with Mercedes, it felt like you had purposefully been ignoring him for months.

He could approach you. He could simply walk up to you at any point when you weren't fully absorbed by readout screens and analytic diagnoses and strike up a conversation.

He didn't want to push his luck. He didn’t fully understand why you wouldn’t talk to him but he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

If being near you meant never truly being close to you again, Mick could live with that. Ultimately, you owed him nothing, so he could watch from afar and adore you silently. He could be content with that.

After all, it was his fault that everything fell apart in the first place.

"Hey, heart eyes! Come here!"

Mick hesitated before making his way to where Lewis was in the VIP section of this Friday night's club of choice.

"Hi?"

"I can't help but notice that you're pathetically in love with your race engineer."

"She's George's engineer—"

"That’s beside the point. Anyway, I think your girl could use some saving."

"She's not my girl."

Lewis hadn't said your name. Mick didn't need him to.

Mick leaned on the balcony railing beside Lewis, looking down over the crowd on the main floor of the club. He found you embarrassingly fast. You were wearing a black shirt, pink shorts, and sandals.

He had seen you come in earlier with your brother and thought you were probably the prettiest girl there that night. If you were put in a room with the world's top models, Mick would still think the same.

On the floor below, your personal space was being invaded by a dark-haired man in glasses. You looked incredibly uncomfortable, glancing around for anyone you knew who you could latch onto and get away from the man who was talking at you incessantly.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision on Mick’s part. One second, he was watching you from the VIP balcony and the next, he was pushing his way through the dance floor to get to you.

The unnamed glasses man put a hand on your back, touching the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. You visibly tensed up.

Before he could think better of it, Mick called your name and pretended to stumble into you and the man.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you.” He played up being drunk as he stuck himself between you and Glasses. “Hey, mate, how’s it going? Who are you?”

“I’m Nolan. And we were having a conversation.”

Mick had to hand it to ‘Nolan,’ he was persistent. “My bad, I guess. Y/N, your brother’s looking for you. Come on.”

He walked off and you followed after him. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He was running by the seat of his pants and hoping he didn’t end up making things worse.

Last time he had thought he was helping you, he didn't speak to you for thirteen years.

“My brother left an hour ago.”

“I know.”

Mick kept walking towards the stairs up to VIP.

You kept following.

Maybe this time, things would be different.

When Mick was 11, he mentioned to his mom that your dad yelled at you and made you cry. That same day, his dad sat him down and asked him to tell him everything he knew about how Jos Verstappen treated his children.

He had told him everything he knew because he didn’t know why he shouldn’t. If his dad wanted to know, it had to be important. Maybe he would be helping you by telling his dad.

A week later, Mick was playing with you in the backyard when your dad started yelling. Except that time, he wasn’t yelling at you or his most frequent target of your older brother Max, he was yelling at Mick’s dad.

That day had ended with your father dragging you away from Mick. Mick remembers thinking he had grabbed you so roughly; didn’t it hurt to be seized by your arm and jerked around like that?

Jos didn’t care. He just yelled at Mick’s dad to stay away if he had such an issue with how he raised his children. So, the Schumachers stayed away. The last memory Mick had of you was with tears streaming down your face, begging your dad not to make Mick leave.

A little less than ten years later, Mick was a Formula One reserve driver. That same year, you had graduated early from university and earned a spot as a Williams performance engineer. Then, you went to Mercedes in 2021 and took over as George’s racing engineer at only twenty two years of age while Mick was racing with Haas.

"I thought you hated me."

You looked up at him, mouth full. "What? Why would I hate you?"

"For telling my dad about everything. For tearing us apart."

You swallowed your mouthful of sandwich, sat across from him in Mercedes hospitality on your lunch break.

After that night in the club, you and Mick rekindled your old friendship. You looked at him, now. You smiled at him and talked to him and sought him out just to sit and talk during your break.

Getting a second chance to be your friend was more than Mick ever thought he would have.

"Mick, that wasn't your fault. My dad... it's complicated. But our dads' falling out wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for it. You know that, right?"

No, he had not known that. He had spent the last thirteen years blaming himself for losing you. He had assumed you would blame him, too, for ending your friendship because he had spent so long as a self proclaimed scapegoat.

"Mick."

"I know that now."

"Mick!"

"I— Okay, I know it's stupid but I have always blamed myself for the whole situation. Then, when we both were getting into F1, you never reached out."

"You never reached out, either!"

"I know that but I figured you wanted nothing to do with me, so I never tried to talk to you."

"You're so daft sometimes, Schumacher."

Mick took your empty insult without argument.

After spending every free second he had with you over the last several weeks, he realized how dumb he had been. He never thought of himself as the melodramatic type but he had really been going through it when he thought you were avoiding him.

"I've never been the smartest when it comes to you."

You just scoffed at him and ate more of your sandwich.

The next day, it was a double podium for Mercedes with Lewis in P2 and George in third. With your brother on the top step of the podium, you were elated, grin broad and voice loud over the radio as you congratulated George for a race well done.

Then, you looked around the garage. Mick didn't know why until your eyes found him along the back wall. You were looking for him. You smiled (at him) and he was smiling back before he even had to think about it.

Being with you had always been easy. As kids, you never argued. You shared toys and always managed to find some weird, convoluted way to mash what you both wanted to do together.

Now that you had gotten over whatever misunderstandings that kept you apart for the last few years, it was easy again. There was never anything you two couldn't talk about. There was never awkward silence. There was never any want to not be near each other.

Mick spent all night celebrating Mercedes' 2-3 finish with you. It was easy to spend hours by your side, to stand too close, to look at you for too long. Once he had a few drinks, it was all too easy to speak his mind around you, lips loose and heart full.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Micky."

"I mean I really missed you. All the time. I would think about you sometimes and miss what we used to have."

Your eyes were soft and focused only on him. He was barely tipsy from the alcohol but he was definitely drunk on you.

"Then, we were both in F1. But it was the pandemic and I was still worried you didn't want to see me. Then, when I was with Haas, I was so scared to approach you."

"Did I do something to make you think I hated you?"

"No, I was just in my head. And those months preparing for the season with Mercedes were the worst. You were so close but I was still too scared to talk to you."

"I wanted to talk to you, too," you admitted. "I thought about doing it sometimes but... I don't know. We hadn't spoken in so long and I was always so busy. I guess I was scared, too."

"I wish we had spoken sooner. We could have had this so much sooner."

"Had what sooner?"

"I don't know." That was a lie. "This. Us."

In all honesty, Mick didn't know what you two were. To anyone who asked, he would say old friends. But you were much more than that.

When he was ten, Mick kissed you for the first time. He had been in love with you since before he even understood what it meant. There was more heartbreak in the severing of your friendship than your families knew, more than either of you had known at that point.

And now, you were together again. Friends again. Except, friends don't sit knee to knee for hours at a time, wholly absorbed in nothing but each other in a raucous club with post-race celebrations going on all around them.

Friends don't let friends ghost their fingertips over the exposed skin of their shoulders, rest their hands on each other's thighs, play with the ends of their hair or the hem of their clothes.

"I missed us." Mick wondered if you knew what he meant by that.

You smiled (at him, again). "Me, too."

You were so close to him. Any sort of respectable distance was out the window. Your thighs were pressed together. You were sat sideways, head resting in your hand as you leaned an arm on the back of the couch.

He could sit up a little straighter and that was all it would take to reach your lips. He was seriously debating doing it.

Then, your brother smacked the back of your head as he was walking past, said something to you in Dutch that had you cursing at him in the same language.

"Hey, Mick," Max tossed at him with an uncomfortably knowing grin.

"Hey, Max."

Suddenly faced with the older brother of the woman he was just been fantasizing about kissing in the middle of a public space, Mick felt his face grow hot. He couldn't quite make eye contact with the eldest Verstappen child.

"Go away, Max," you told your brother with a glare.

Kelly took pity on you, dragging her boyfriend away.

"What did he say?" Mick asked you.

"'Get a room.'"

Mick laughed nervously, shifted away from you slightly. "Sorry, I—"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Being with you had always been easy. It was maybe the easiest thing Mick had ever done to nod his head yes and let you drag him out of that club.

You sat too close in the cab ride back to the hotel. He stood too close in the elevator up to his hotel room. You held his arm as he fumbled with the keycard to get the door open.

You pushed at his chest to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. He went down willingly, kept his eyes on you the entire time. You stood between his legs, pushed his hair back, let him lean into your touch.

"Is this okay?" you asked.

Were you seriously asking that? He had turned into putty in your hands from just a few touches. You hadn't even kissed him yet.

"Mick," you insisted at his silence.

"Yes. It's okay. It is so okay. Don't stop. Please."

He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed by just how easily you had reduced him to begging.

Above him, you smiled before leaning down to press your lips to his. His neck was craned back; you had a hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder to keep him in place. He let you dictate the pace, let you kiss him however you wanted.

It was slow at first, just your lips on his. You set the tempo low, moved your mouth at a torturous pace. You sucked his bottom lips between both of yours. When your tongue finally poked out, he let his jaw slacken, let you lick into his mouth without a need to fight against it.

You slid your tongue against his. The exchange of saliva was erotic and messy and left Mick panting against you. He gripped the backs of your thighs, adjusted his hips, tangled his fingers in the hem of your dress.

Mick slipped into German as he got lost in want. "Liebe, bitte. Bitte, ich brauche dich." [Baby, please. Please, I need you.]

And you—brilliant, keen, genius you—knew what he was saying. When did you learn German? Did you remember enough of it from all the time you had spent with his family as a child? He had no clue.

"Sei geduldig. We will get there." [Be patient.]

"I have been patient for years. Please, Y/N."

You kissed him again to shut him up, faster, harder, sloppier this time. Your hand slid over the column of his throat, just resting there as nothing but a reminder. He keened into your mouth, the vibration getting caught by your hand.

"I love you," he gasped, out of breath.

You drew back.

Mick's heart stopped.

"You love me?"

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing against your hand. "Yes. I have since we were kids. I don't— I don't want this if this is all it will be. I want everything with you. I want you to love me, too."

Somehow, it was still easy for him to lay all his cards on the table, to let you see everything and wait for your verdict. He was terrified, yes, but he trusted you implicitly.

He loved you and only you—he had only ever loved you this desperately and wholly, thirteen years apart be damned.

"I'm in love with you," he said.

You seemed breathless and speechless all at once.

He knows he said too much. It was definitely overwhelming to have all of that said to you with no warning but once he started, he couldn't stop. He had kept it all to himself for so long, watching from afar, never able to get close to you.

Now, here you were. He only hoped he had not read into things that were not there. He looked up at you, ice blue eyes wide and hopeful, patiently awaiting your response.

"I love you, too," you said on an exhale. "I'm in love with you, too. I thought I was crazy for it but I think I've always loved you."

Mick was not entirely convinced that this all wasn't some sick wet dream he would wake up from in the morning. He didn't care. He couldn't care, not when you slid your hand up to his jaw, held his face so gently, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"It's always been you, Mick."

He couldn't stop himself anymore. He pulled you close, guided your legs to either side of his hips, held your head and kissed you.

Dominance was shared this time as you kissed each other. You sighed into his mouth, a contented and wanting sound. You rested your arms on his shoulders as your tongues danced. His hands pushed up higher under the skirt of your dress, squeezing the soft skin of your upper thighs.

"Okay?" was the simple question he asked before taking things any further.

"Please."

Supporting your weight, Mick lifted you out of his lap and laid you out on your back. Hovering over you, he slid a hand up your dress to your hip. He caught the waistband of your underwear, glanced up at you to make sure.

You nodded.

He got both hands under your dress to pull your underwear off. He pushed your legs apart and you let them fall open, exposing yourself to him and he nearly moaned at the sight alone.

You were laid open and not quite bare with your dress still on but your pretty pink folds were in clear view. He had never expected to have you in any way, let alone spread open and ready to be ravished, but to say he hadn't imagine it two hundred times over would be a lie.

He moved down your body to kiss your left thigh, first closer to your knee then moving up so the soft, supple skin of your inner thigh. He let his breath fan over your pussy, felt the way you twitched at the sensation. Then, he kissed back down your right leg, trailing kisses down to your knee.

"Mick," you urged.

He bit back the repetition of your words about patience from earlier, instead deciding to be nice and lift your knees up over his shoulders, slide his arms under your legs to warp around and hold them in place, then settle in between your thighs like he had nowhere to be for quite some time.

Your folds were glistening in anticipation by the time his lips met them. He kissed over your aching core one, two, three painfully slow times before finally letting his tongue slot against your clit. His lips moved in tandem with his tongue, sucking and licking at the little bundle of nerves until you threw your head back and choked out a throaty moan.

"Mick—please."

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Mick dropped his head to slide his tongue down between your folds, to press at your entrance over and over, lapping at your pussy in a way that could not care about saliva and slick dripping off his chin.

His nose nudged at your clit. Every breath in was nothing but the scent of you ingraining itself in his brain in a way he will never forget. He would never want to forget a single thing about you in that moment.

Not your scent or the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Not the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, not pushing or guiding just holding onto him like you just wanted to have your hands on him in any way you could. Not the way you breathed his name halfway between a moan and a cry, or how you arched your back as you were overwhelmed with bliss.

You were coming apart on his tongue and lips and nothing else. If he could save the taste of you and get high on it every night he would. If he could bottle the feeling of you trying not to squirm under the pleasure that he was bringing you, he would drink himself dumb a thousand times over.

"Mick—!"

He hummed in perfect contentment as you cried his name in warning. Your muscles tensed, legs tried to close around his head as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. He just dug in more, ate you out more fervently, slipped his tongue inside of you until you were gasping from the feeling of it.

When he made you come the first time, it was with a cry of his name and panting moans as you bucked your hips up against his face. He worked you through it, kissing and licking at your clit until you were pushing at his head to pull him off.

When he lifted his face from between your thighs, his face was wet, covered in you and he loved it. You laughed breathlessly as you saw him, still shaking slightly from your orgasm.

"Jeez, Mick. When did you learn to go down on a girl like that?"

He was a little lightheaded and a lot pussy drunk, but he still knew better than to mention any girl he'd been with before. "I want you to be the only girl I ever go down on again."

"Good answer," you said, and pulled him up to kiss you as a reward.

You could probably taste yourself on his lips but didn't seem to care as you kissed him hungrily. You tugged at his shirt, so he pulled it over his head. You ran your hands over his torso unabashedly, feeling his stomach and shoulders, bringing goosebumps to his skin as you ran your fingernails down his chest.

Despite having you crumbling apart under his mouth not three minutes ago, when you climbed into his lap and started kissing his neck, Mick felt like he was short circuiting.

Your dress had fallen back over your hips to hide it but he knew you were uncovered underneath the silky fabric. If his pants were off, he could be inside of you right now.

He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders as you gripped his jaw and tilted his head to the side to kiss at his neck some more. He went pliantly, moaned softly at the feel of your teeth tugging at the sensitive skin where his neck met his clavicle.

He reached around to your back to unzip your dress. When you slid your arms out of the straps and he pulled the top of the dress down, he was finally able to get his hands on your boobs, taking big handfuls of each.

You were still kissing and licking his neck, teasing your teeth against his skin every so often. When he ran his thumbs over your nipples until they were hard under his fingers, your breaths grew shaky. He carefully let his nails drag over the firm peaks, pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers and tugged until you were arching into him.

"So handsy," you commented breathlessly.

"I want to touch every inch of you until you can recognize me by feel alone."

Mick dropped his head between your breasts, kissed the skin there and the side of your boob before you pushed him back. He whined as you deprived him of becoming acquainted with another part of yourself he already knew he would never get enough of.

Then, you stood and stepped out of your dress to leave yourself bare. He couldn't find a reason to complain.

He was prepared to slide to the floor at your feet. Then, you beckoned him toward you.

You had him sit at the edge of the bed again. You dropped to your knees. You popped the button of his pants. You pulled his boxers down just enough, and then his cock was stood at full attention just in front of your face.

He cursed under his breath. You heard it and smirked before licking up the underside of his cock. You wrapped a warm hand around him, stroked him a few times while kitten licking at his tip.

"Y/N. Liebe, please. Y/N, please."

You were not as easily convinced to dive in and give Mick what he wanted as he was with you. You didn't change what you were doing, just continued to let the tip of your tongue dance along the top of his cock while your hand moved on him slowly.

You finally closed your lips over the head of his dick and Mick could have come from that and nothing more. You popped him out of your mouth with an audible noise. Mick groaned; you would be the death of him and he wouldn't even fight against it.

You shot him a Cheshire grin. The sight was lewd and unbelievably hot: you, with a hand around his cock and a big smile on your face like you enjoyed nothing more than sucking him off. Mick was going to combust if he wasn't inside of you in the next two minutes.

"Y/N—"

He tried to tell you as much but your mouth was on him again and he couldn't get the words out. You swirled your tongue around his head, then your jaw opened and and you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. It was warm and wet.

Your tongue flexed against the underside of his dick when it hit the back of your throat. He could feel himself press into your soft pallet until you had to come up for air with a slight gag.

He couldn't bring himself to make you stop when you went back in for more. His breaths were short and labored, legs tense under your free hand as he mentally and physically had to hold himself back from coming down your throat.

He could imagine how you would gag around him when he did, pulling up to take his load just behind your lips instead. You might open your mouth after he had finished, show him your handiwork as it was pooled on your tongue before swallowing it all.

"Y/N, you have to stop. I'm going to come."

You took him out of your mouth to press a sloppy kiss to his cock. You pouted up at him as you let his length rest against your face. He could feel your eyelashes against it when you blinked.

"You don't want me to make you come?"

"I don't want to be spent yet. Come lay down for me?"

You let him pull you off the floor, kissed him as you crawled up the bed and laid yourself out on your back. He managed to kick his pants and boxers off while searching his suitcase for a condom then get back over to you without tripping over his own feet.

You giggled at his eagerness. Your hands ran over his chest as he ripped the packet open and slid the condom on. Your legs were already parted for him as he positioned himself.

He glanced up at you, not nervous but checking in. Your gaze was set on where your two bodies were about to fit together, hungry and expectant. Who was Mick to deprive you of what you wanted?

Entering you was as easy as anything with you was. You were still soaked from Mick's saliva and your own fluids. Your mouth fell open and your walls fluttered around him. A moan croaked past your lips as you gripped his arms.

"Holy shit, Mick."

He had to be sure, so he asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm in fucking ecstasy. Oh my god, baby."

Mick started moving his hips, long, slow strokes in and out as you keened beneath him, panting from almost nothing at all. He could live off the noises you made for him. He snapped his hips against yours, was rewarded with a gasp and startled little mewl and your fingernails digging into his biceps.

"Mick, please."

He continued the same slow pace. In and out, almost languid, near torture but so worth the desperate way you pulled at his shoulders and hips, physically trying to get him to speed up, to give you more.

"Mick. Go faster."

"I love you." Anything for you.

He made a smooth transition from rolling his hips against yours to making them a piston, pace and weight faster and harder. He bore down on you heavier. You cried out, dragging your nails down his back to only spur him on.

He sat back, pressed down on you with his hands on the backs of your knees to fold you in half. You couldn't easily get away from him when he had you pinned down like this, thighs spread wide and pussy bared to be split open on his cock. You tipped your head back and moaned loudly.

"You've got to try and be quiet, baby," he told you; you were still in a hotel.

"You're making it really difficult."

Mick grinned but eased off just a bit. "Sorry—"

"Don't you fucking dare. Fuck me, Schumacher. Fuck me hard."

So, he did.

You were sticky, shaking, and more than satisfied when Mick was through with you. Three more orgasms, four different positions, and five I love you's later, you had passed out against Mick's chest after he had carefully wiped you clean.

The next morning, you and Mick came down for breakfast together. Max was already there; you usually ate breakfast with your brother if you were staying in the same hotel because there wasn't much time to see him elsewhere on race weekends.

When he clocked the way you and Mick were so casually close together, the little looks you kept sneaking, he smacked a hand on the table and pointed an accusatory finger in your face.

"I knew it!"

Mick went red.

You just rolled your eyes. "Shut up, Max."

. . .

a/n. this was partially inspired by this one max fic i read a while ago that i couldn't find again. it's schumacher!reader x max and reader is the one to tell michael about how jos treats max then reader and max reconnect years later. i think it was inspired by "seven" by taylor swift.

if anyone can find it/the author lmk and i'll give credit! hope you enjoyed <3

edit: credit is due to @mastermind123 (who i cannot tag for some reason) and their story, seven. go read it; it’s so cute!!

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blairespandora · 1 day

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Daryl Dixon Headcanon

“I wanna be alone, alone with you… does that make sense?”

• when you met daryl at the prison, everyone warned you to stay away. that he is a loner and works best that way

• of course you went and ignored that statement and joined him from time to time

• it started off with you just dropping off some food in the watch tower for him, bringing up some extra blankets for when it was cold and even little trinkets you found around the prison (cute rocks, feathers, etc)

• he never gave you more than a grunt or a hum, at best a thanks’ but that didn’t bother you at all, you understood

• you also liked to talk to him about the most random things, things you liked, your past, whatever is happening inside the prison, he wouldn’t reply but it never deterred you

• and he was silently grateful you didn’t push him further

• after a while, you got your own spot in the prison, helping out in the kitchen and with the children which took a lot of your time, time you would have spent visiting daryl

• he noticed it pretty quickly but brushed it off as you finally giving up on him (he was SOUR about it but he ain’t gonna show it, NO way)

• but it irked him, and that pissed him off

• so, off to the kitchen he goes after a run into a nearby town, bag full of different utensils for you to bake with and even a small little bracelet

• it surprised you because the bracelet was green… your favourite colour you mentioned ages ago

• “thanks dare’” you grinned grabbing the little piece of string jewellery from his open hand

• “don’t mention it” he looked away and grunted

• and he continued to come pay you little visits instead. helped with the heavy lifting in the kitchen, grabbed the kids to tire them out in the field, letting you relax from time to time

• but then came the time where everything became too much for you

• you started becoming quieter, everyone took notice but decided to let you be, everyone had their issues at hand

• but daryl didn’t

• he would keep an eye on you from a distance for a while but then he decided to try out his luck

• one night when everyones gone to bed, you decide to sleep under the stars, escape the prison both literally and figuratively, taking your sleeping bag and a flask of a warm drink

• it was refreshing, even for one night, you didn’t know why you didn’t do this more often

• a while passed by, maybe an hour or so and you were just laid out on your back, staring at the clear sky above you

• counting all the constellations and putting your arm up, pretending to reach them… forgetting about the end of the world and how fucked everything was

• you didn’t hear anyone approaching (of course you didn’t, daryl was super light on his feet)

• “you okay y/n?” daryl said as he sat down next to you

• you were so focused on finding a constellation you didn’t startle “i guess…”

• he hummed and looked at you “which one ya’ tryna’ find?”

• “cassiopeia” you mumbled frowning

• he leant down and pointed just left to you “tha’ one yea’?”

• you smiled and nodded at him “thanks dare’”

• he nodded and lit up a smoke “wha’s up with ya’ recently?” he took a drag and looked into your eyes.

• you just shrugged and looked away from his intensive gaze “just wanted to be alone” deciding just to set for that, not wanting to waste too much of his time

• he smoked his cigarette quietly before deciding to get up, to let you be by yourself as you seemed to be safe enough for him to go back up to the watch tower

• but you grabbed his hand before he could fully get up because fuck it, life has gone to shit, what is there to lose?

• “i wanna be alone… i wanna be alone with you… if that makes sense?” you looked at him with a pleading look in your eyes hoping to convey what you meant through them

• he stopped for a second before nodding, stumping his cigarette and sitting back down closer to you, understanding what you meant. he himself relating to those words but didn’t want to ruin the moment by speaking out loud

• he grabbed your shoulder, bringing you closer to him so you can lean your head on his chest.

• you don’t know how much time has passed with both of you sat like that but it didn’t matter for now, it could mean everything but it could mean nothing at the same time

• but right now, you felt like you still had a bit of hope left in you.

#fanfic #imagine #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon headcanon

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bambi-slxt · 2 days

Text

🤍𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 3.2k

genre/tropes: established friendship, one-sided love (or is it?)

warnings: slight angst

pt one: here

notes from bambi: the POV switches throughout this part - switches will be indicated by an extra blank line. also i wasn't originally planning to add another part to this but ohhhh i'm so glad i did. thank you to @sturniololover-09 , @ivonchetooo1239 , and @aliceloveschris , who asked for part two - hope you like it!

Another night, another stressed-out Christopher. While I already felt out-of-my-depth when he came to me with his existential romance crisis, his current issue proved to be even more herculean in nature.

“Chris. For the umpteenth time. I don’t know how to make the glow stars stick to your ceiling.”

“But I need them to! And they’re supposed to stick, it said so on the box-”

“It also said to clean the area thoroughly before application,” I said dryly, crossing my ankles and settling deeper into the blankets on his bed, “And when exactly did you wipe down your ceiling?”

Chris harrumphed. “The universe is working against me.”

“I’m sure it is, honey. Can we please start this now?” I gestured to his monitor, some dumb lawyer show on Netflix - Coats or Jackets or something. Chris told me earlier how much I’d love it, to which I had replied, “We’ll see.” The last show he tried to get me to watch with him was deplorable, and it took a long time for me to see Cole Sprouse, Lili Reinhart, and KJ Appa as anything other than the god-awful actors Riverdale painted them to be.

“I wanna try one more time,” he said, stepping ungraciously over my legs and stretching towards the ceiling.

“Is it made of plaster?” I asked, tilting my head upwards, trying very hard to avoid looking straight up his loose basketball shorts.

“What, this?” He pointed upward. “I think. Why?”

I hummed in reply and began tapping away on my phone. Chris shrugged and went back to his Sisyphysian task. The stars would stick initially, but kept falling after a while and stabbing us in the rudest of places - an hour ago I got a crescent moon to the boob.

Soft music drifted down the stairs outside his bedroom door - Matt must be playing something in the kitchen. The four of us ate dinner earlier and as Chris made it, I was a guest, and Nick didn’t feel good, he’d been on clean-up.

“Hey.” I pulled on the hem of Chris’s shorts. “This says if we use rubbing alcohol to clean the area first instead of just like, a damp cloth or something, that should work. It also says a hot glue gun will help it stick better.”

Chris put his hand on my head, thumbing my soft baby hairs that would never stay put - his way of saying ‘thank you’. “Do we even have a hot glue gun?”

“No idea,” I murmured as I leaned against his leg.

“Time to find out!” He scrambled over me, stepping on my arm and almost tea-bagging me.

“You fuck,” I said, smacking him on the arm as he ran out of the room giggling.

“Hey do we have rubbing alcohol and a hot glue gun?”

Matt startled and shook his head, leaning over the sink. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me,” he huffed. “Alcohol, yes, in your bathroom, glue gun, no.”

“Well shit. ‘Preciate it,” Chris said, patting him on the back and turning for the stairs.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“She okay?”

Chris’s brows knitted together. “Whaddaya mean?” “She just seems kinda stressed, ‘s all,” Matt said. “Somethin’ else on the mind.”

“She’s good as far as I know.”

“K. Come up behind me like that again, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

“Whatever,” Chris responded, grinning his way back downstairs.

“There’s rubbing alcohol in my bathroom.”

I scrunched my face. “Since when?”

“No idea. Can you get one of my t-shirts, we’ll use that for the cleaning thingy.”

“Yeah,” I said, unwrapping myself from his blankets and stepping lazily toward his closet. Chris was already down one shirt due to the fact that I’d ripped my going out top just as we got home earlier. The “kickback” at Tara’s felt more like a rager and I considered it a miracle no one ended up naked. While digging around for something for me to wear, Chris had found the unopened bag of glow-in-the-dark stars, and the rest was history.

I tugged on the faded tee now, bunching the front end up in my hands as I rifled around to the back of his closet. It all smelled like him, piney with a hint of spice that makes your nose feel cold and tingly. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms. “You don’t care about this one do you?” I said quickly, trying to move on.

He turned and shook his head, dark, soft curls falling around his eyes. “Toss it.” In my defense, I did my best. It’s not my fault the damn thing got flung halfway back to the door when he smacked it out of the air instead of catching it, and I told him so with a huff. “Sure, sure, blame me,” Chris said, grinning.

“I will,” I replied, bending over to pick it up.

Chris felt his chest cave in. There she was, baby hairs falling awry, his massively oversized crewneck slipping halfway off her shoulders, body lit up by the soft light from his screensaver. His knees buckled, and he stepped out to steady himself on the plush bed. She noticed - of course she did - and tilted her head. “You good there, hotrod?” Her smile was slightly uneven, like it always had been before, and Chris wanted to kiss it very badly for the rest of his life and probably after that as well.

“I’m fantastic,” he said, blinking the thoughts away from his mind.

“Okay,” I laughed, throwing the offending shirt back at him. “I’ll go get the rubbing alcohol and then can we please watch your damn show?”

“So rowdy. Yeah, hurry up.”

I shook my head and walked out of his room, turning the small corner into his bathroom and flicking on the light. My toothbrush rested on his counter. He only hung up his towels because he knew I would try to do it my way, and he hated my way. I looked at myself in the mirror.

A moment passed, filled of my own wonderings about what Chris saw when he looked at me. Was it me - the way I looked, my individual features, did they jump out at him? Some were impossible to miss…they sure did jump out at me. Or did his brain focus on other things? Did he even care how I looked, when my physical characteristics stacked up to the years of friendship we’d already put behind us, the late nights, early mornings, the adventures, the bad times…I pulled the rubbing alcohol out from under his sink before I forgot and opened up my phone. Swiping out of the “how to stick glow stars to plaster” search tab, I went to our messages.

iMessage chat with Orange Juice:

taras got a thing tonight u wanna go

You:

duh what’s the vibes?

Orange Juice:

i think just whatever im not putting on anything fancy

You:

you’re so boring.

Orange Juice:

shut up

im glad youre coming

You:

please use apostrophes, just once i’m actually begging.

Orange Juice:

thou can suck my confetti covered cock about it actually

You:

oh! taking a screenshot and sending it to mary lou

Orange Juice:

okay wait

You:

no :D get fucked, mister magic penis

Orange Juice: im glad youre coming

↪ me too. missed u tons

Orange Juice:

same

you wanna talk about canes

You:

we can, are you still feeling weird about things?

Orange Juice:

no i just wanna talk like that more with you

you’r advice was really good

You:

that’s not how you use an apostrophe christopher

Then they all arrived to pick me up for Tara’s, Chris hugged me, and we said nothing more about it. Chris. I should get this back to him. Reaching for the light, I looked for the rubbing alcohol, felt the switch with my other hand, grabbed the bottle, and flipped the lights off without looking. So it came as a terrifying surprise when I ran smack into Chris’s chest. “FUCKSHITPISSIMGONNAKILLYOU,” I nearly shouted at him, letting my hands rest on his chuckling chest, panting with the overwhelming surge of adrenaline.

“‘Fuck’, ‘shit’, and ‘piss’?” he snickered, covering my hands with his own. “That’s insane.”

I stalked past him into his room, tossing the bottle behind my shoulder - he would catch it or he wouldn’t and then I would know karma was on my side. “I don’t wanna discuss it.”

“Okay then,” Chris said, still laughing as he poured the awful-smelling stuff onto his ancient shirt, balled it up, and began to scrub his ceiling. “What took you so long in there?”

I did not want to answer him. “You’re doing it wrong,” I huffed. I climbed up onto the bed with him, reaching up to take his makeshift rag.

Chris’s mouth slid into a sly smile, and he raised it farther above my head than I could reach. “Am I?”

I stepped closer to him, pressed against his chest like I’d been before. Showing him my best doe-eyes, I whined, “Give it, Chris, please.”

His tongue swiped over his lips, both of which now hung open. Chris looked down at me and I looked up at him. The height difference was slight, but now the mere inches felt incredibly important in the moment’s silence. “What?” I whispered, barely more than a breath.

Jesus Christ, girlie, Chris groaned inwardly. She just looked so cute, and she had always been so sweet to him, and she took him to Cane’s and listened to his mostly-incoherent stream of consciousness, and she loved his brothers and she helped him hang up glow stars and she might actually be the most perfect person he’d ever met.

“Chris?” her voice, though soft, held him in a painful vice grip. “What’s wrong?”

He loosed a breath, lowering his hand and letting his arms settle around her, gathering at the small of her back. Chris pressed his lips against her forehead, resting his against it when her wrists crossed behind his neck.

“Nothin’s wrong,” he murmured, a humored smile making its way across his face. He heard his voice change with the mounting anxiety in his chest. “Jus’ like bein’ with ya, ‘s all.”

My stomach fluttered at his words. “I like being with you too, bubs.” An idea sparked in my brain, and before any of my self-preservation instincts could kick in, I dropped my hands from his neck and dug them under his arms, tickling mercilessly. Chris’s eyes lit up in a flash, cowing his back to get away from me while simultaneously making a beeline for my ribs to lay waste to them in a similar fashion.

“You little fucker!” he cackled, dancing around on the bed to avoid my hands.

“AKSPBTH, GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY!” I was shrieking with glee as we tumbled in a writhing heap on his pillows, gasping for breath while he continued his unhindered attack on my body. “ChrisChrisChrisChris-” I panted, making ultimately futile attempts to wriggle out from under him, “Please, truce, truce, I’m begging-”

Laughing still, he sat back on his knees, arms still on either side of me. Chris’s hair fell so messy above me, his chain dangling just above my nose. I gave him a downturned smile.

“Pinned ya,” he huffed triumphantly.

I lightly smacked his chest with a daring snort of derision. “Like you’d do anything about it.”

“Shut up.” Chris, still smiling that heart-wrenchingly adorable smile of his, lowered his head until our noses touched. “Hi.” He blinked his big blue eyes comically at me.

“Hey,” I replied softly, another laugh lilting quietly from my throat. I found myself enjoying this moment very much.

Chris tilted his head, hair swinging with him. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

I giggled. “Nothin’.”

He huffed, scrunching his nose and rubbing it against mine, his chain slipping over my chin, and I couldn’t help but laugh again. He tended to bring that out of me. My arms reached up to wrap around his back. “Come here,” I whispered, and as he lowered his chest to mine, I felt his arms slip up around my head. I nuzzled into his neck and held him.

We lay like that for a while, the pressure on my body soothing me, his scent engulfing me. I could get used to this.

“Hey.”

“I wanna talk about our conversation.”

“From the other night?”

“Mhm.”

“We can. Do you wanna sit up?”

“No,” he grumbled, doing it anyway.

“Poor baby,” I teased, “Your life is so very hard.” My heart felt full. Something was changing. I could sense it somehow.

Chris blushed at my words, shaking his head and hiding his gaze. He settled back against his headboard to the right side of me while I tugged a blanket up to my shoulders. “You cold?” he asked, but I shook my head.

“‘S just soft, that’s all. What do you wanna talk about?” I asked, tucking my arm under his.

Chris squeezed it and took a deep breath. “I said I wasn’t sure how I loved you. And we talked about how we don’t have much romantic love experience.”

“Mhm.” I waited for him to continue.

“And I just…” Chris laid his head on mine. “I…feel something…for you. But I don’t think it’s fair to even tell you that because I really don’t know if it’s anything more than that friend-type of love.” The sigh he let out was shaky. I stayed stock-still, unsure of what he was getting at and hoping to god my heart wasn’t about to be crushed. “And then I started thinkin’ about what you said about love…how it was like, a bunch of choices you make.” His right hand reached over, tentative and uncertain, touching the arm I’d tucked next to him ever so lightly. “And then you said a buncha’ stuff about my family but you didn’t say anythin’ about yourself.” He turned his head and looked down at me, his face dark in the soft light.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and Chris’s heart went into cardiac arrest. There was so much trust in her gaze, she might as well have opened her soul wide open for him to look at, and he wanted to drown himself in it. His lips parted in a disbelieving sigh - this girl, this woman, she’d been with him for so long, always patient, always willing to listen, she never pushed him but god did she challenge him, she made him laugh, she made him want to act better…he wanted to be a person she would be proud to know. Maybe even…maybe even someone she would want to call her boyfriend. “I care about you,” he said, his heart thumping with fear. “I don’t know if that's romantic love or not but...” he paused. God, he was so scared. “If you’ll let me…I wanna find out with you.”

And there it was - the confession. Chris had metaphorically ripped his heart from its cage and handed it to her, and he was terrified over what she’d do with it.

“Love…is waking up every day and choosing that person regardless of what the day is gonna throw at you.”

Her voice echoed in his head. Chris chose her. Even if she didn’t choose him back.

I exhaled slowly. My chest almost caved in from the weight of his words. “Chris…” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “You have…no idea…how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” I wanted to hug him, desperately, but I was afraid of breaking him. He looked so scared, scared of love, scared of messing up, scared of being less than expected or not enough…he looked so scared.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, unable to look away.

“Yeah,” I nodded, my hand moving up slowly, so slowly, to touch his cheek. Gingerly, I traced my knuckle down his stubble, and his sweet blue eyes closed at my touch. My own did their best to blink away tears, but ultimately failed.

Suddenly, the most unrelated thought occurred to me. “Chris,” I whispered, “Look at the stars.” He tilted his head up in awe at the glow stars that had stuck to the ceiling after all this time. Not a single planet loose, not a moon out of place. They covered the plaster with a hazy blue hue, casting gentle shadows down his neck.

“Holy shit,” he said with a soft laugh. “They really did stay up there.”

It all felt like one big giant metaphor to me, but maybe that interpretation was a bit on-the-nose. I elected to keep it to myself. I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t look disastrous with those damn tear tracks down my cheeks.

“Heyyy, hey…” Chris murmured, holding my face with both hands and thumbing the product of my overwhelming emotions away, “I got you. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Neither am I,” I promised. I kissed his palm on impulse, eyes darting up to his. Is this okay?

Of course it is.

I continued my ministrations, taking his wrist in hand and kissing up to the tips of his fingers, curling them down to move up his knuckles until I reached the back of his hand. He let me, a curious expression on his face. With my final kiss, I made direct eye-contact with him. He breathed out and let his hand fall, his thumb catching softly on my bottom lip, the rest of his fingers fitting neatly under my chin.

“Please let me kiss you,” he whispered, his brows furrowed, his eyelids heavy, his gaze addicted to my lip, the bottom of which sprung plushly back into place when his thumb let go of it. He looked like a man starved.

I slid my fingers into the soft, loose curls at the back of his neck and tilted my head, letting his lips press so sweetly against mine. My stomach tingled, butterflies fluttering to life in my chest. Chris’s hands slipped up my back, hugging me into him, his nose pressing against my cheek as he kissed me again and again, slowly, patiently. His breath filled my mouth, and mine his. I probably exhaled a bit of my soul too. The thought made me smile and he murmured against my skin. “What is it, pretty girl?” He kissed the edges of my smile, nosing my blushed face, relishing the closeness now allowed to him.

“I just like you,” I said shyly.

He grinned, making a fist and yanking his elbow back to his side. “Yesssss.”

I erupted into giggles and he just watched me contentedly.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments to adjust my knees, I looked up to see Chris, looking like he’d been shot. “Come back…I wasn’t done,” he grumbled.

“You’re so whiny,” I teased, holding his cheeks in my hands.

He smiled impishly. “I jus’ like ya.”

“You like sitting here with me?” I asked, stroking the shell of his ear, drowning in his eyes like he was in mine.

“I like sitting here with you,” Chris confirmed, his voice gentle and low. “I want ya’ to be my girl.”

“Well, I want you to be my boy,” I huffed, grinning. “What about that?”

“I think I’ll live,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss me again.

The end.

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags (some may be duplicates): @aliceloveschris @ivonchetooo1239 @sturniololover-09 @schluttforpineapple @ghostofbrock @jnkvivi @whatrulookingat11 @pinksturniolo @sleepysturnss @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll

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kierancaz · 6 months

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Fucking LOSERS of my friends don’t want to watch the trolls movies with me so I’m watching them ON MY OWN can you guys believe this shit ???

#MARIA AND NARI THIS IS ABOUT YOUUUUUUU #neither of them have tumblr they’re not gonna know I posted this #so I can name drop them without consequences #and I also called them losers to their faces so it’s totally fine dw guys #at one point I said I would never watch these but I wanna know what’s up with those green slay noodle villains in the third movie so #trolls #trolls world tour #trolls movie #trolls band together

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dr3c0mix · 6 months

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My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x male reader #x reader #rockstar x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere x you #opossumdoodles

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

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Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #ghost cod #simon riley x plus size reader #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you

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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months

Text

James Potter x Lupin!fem!reader

Summary: You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: Regulus Black x reader mentioned, swearing, insecurities, unrequited love? James is oblivious, he's kind of an asshole, jealousy, idiots in love basically

During the six years you've known him James Potter was never mean to you.

He'd always been the sweetest out of your brother's friends, and as kids you looked up to him. However, it wasn't until you turned sixteen that it became obvious you didn't see him as another brother. Instead, your admiration turned into the most obnoxious, heart-wrenching, crush.

When, after a year of pining, you came to the conclusion that James would never like you in the way you liked him, you reluctantly allowed your crush to fizzle away.

"He's just so cute," Your smile hurts your cheeks as you lay on the ground and point out the little notes your newest crush had written in your potions book.

"Oh, and look at this," You sit up and lean in to proudly show your friends your wrist, where a messy little heart is drawn. "Isn't Reggy just the cutest?" You must sound repetitive by now but your friends still listen with enthusiasm, "I think he likes me," You whisper.

You don't pay attention when James, Sirius, and a few other Gryffindor Quidditch players walk into the Common Room until, with exhausted humphs, Sirius and James let themselves slump dramatically onto the couch behind you and Sirius nudges his foot into your ribs, "Hey, little Lupin," He teases.

You hum and nonchalantly turn to look at him, accidentally catching James's eye. Jame's arm leans across the cushions as he tilts his head a moment and his lips curl up. His tongue cheekily pokes at his cheek as they turn pinker.

"Heard'ya have a crush on my little brother," Hearing his friend, James's smirk disappears as he tears his eyes away from yours, "He mentioned you yesterday." Sirius continues.

Quickly, you jump up and happily skip over to where Sirius and James sit. Your friends watch you in amusement as you mutter, "Excuse me," and wiggle in between the boys.

James moves his arm and sits up, clearing his throat. He runs a hand in his hair as he pretends not to listen in on your conversation.

"What did he say?" You ask.

James's jaw tightens as your scent surrounds him. He is never sure if it's your perfume or your shampoo but you smell like vanilla (with just a hint of strawberry) and his heart thumps. Absentmindedly, his hand twitches around his knee.

"Said he wants to know you better," Sirius side-eyes you, "Wanted my advice on how to talk to you. You wanna know what my advice is, Lupin?" Sirius leans his elbow on his knees and his chin in his palm as he looks at you directly.

You nod, your entire body now turned away from James and facing Sirius, "Stay away from Regulus. He's trouble. I don't know what you see in him anyways." Your face falls.

"What do you mean? He's actually kind, and he's funny, and he has really gorgeous eyes." You insist a little loudly, "I like him. He makes my heart flutter as if it contained a million butterflies — " You admit.

You've have always had a tendency to dramatize your crushes.

You hear James shift and he mutters something under his breath. Turning to him, your cheeks warm as you don't think you heard him clearly, "Sorry?"

"I - can't you just shut up about Regulus for one goddamn second? Because, frankly, I don't think anyone in this room actually cares what he does to your heart or how good he makes you feel," James's voice is tense and he looks at you with a completely blank expression.

Your eyes bounce frantically from feature to feature. From his crimson cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, and a small, developing, bruise (most likely from Quidditch) hidden under his chin. You feel nauseous as his words sink in.

You look around the room. Your friends all look surprised by James's comment and a few of the Quidditch players still in the Common Room whisper among themselves as they occasionally glance your way. Sirius turns to his best friend, his smile has disappeared but he doesn't speak. You wonder if he's as lost for words as you are.

At that moment, your brother walks into the room, three or four books tucked under his arm, and he looks at you and his friends from behind his reading glasses. He sees your lip tremble as your hands shake over your lap and you refuse to look away from James. Remus frowns, "Y/n, what's wrong?" He asks, cutting into the tension.

"You're a jerk, James." Your voice quivers and you stand. Without another word, you run up the stairs to your dorm and, as quickly as possible, your friends scramble to follow you.

"Why'd you say that?" Sirius asks in shock, raising his eyebrow in question at his best friend. James barely feels like he's in his body anymore and he blinks. Why did he say that to you? He looks at Remus and his heart sinks as a pit forms in his stomach. He's so screwed.

"What the bloody fuck did you say to my sister, Potter?" Remus curses.

Remus never curses.

* * *

James hasn't spoken with you in almost three weeks. Which means he hasn't had the chance to tell you he's sorry.

He's not that stupid, he knows you've been ignoring him and he can't exactly blame you. As you'd said, he'd been a jerk and he feels goddamn awful about it.

Ironically, what is making this entire situation so much worse is instead of hanging out with your friends — with him — you've been hanging out with Regulus.

James sees you study with him in the library. He sees you eat together in the dining hall, and walk to Quidditch games, hands almost brushing. His Quidditch games. Where he can't concentrate because all he can think about is the way another boy is making you laugh as he whispers, whatever it is that is so urgent he needs to press his lips to your skin, into your ear.

"What the hell was that out there?!" Sirius sounds annoyed as he hits James in the chest with his damp towel on their way out of the showers and into the changing room, "Where was your head, because it certainly wasn't in the game, mate!"

James looks away as he dries his hair with his towel, "I know, I know. I don't know what's wrong with me lately." He slumps onto the bench and resists the urge to scream into his hands.

"It's his little girlfriend. Our captain here s'just upset because she's been spending all her time with your little bro instead of with him — like she usually does." Andy, one of the beaters, snorts from behind James and quickly, James spins around and throws his towel at him in. He sends Andy a dark look, to which Andy shrugs his shoulders.

"Y/n?" Sirius frowns, he points at James and then gestures his arms wildly, "Our Y/n? As in Remus's sister, Y/n?" James cheeks flame in embarrassment and Sirius's eyes widen, "Oh my, you're so jealous." He says with a smirks

"I am not jealous, Padfoot. I just — seeing her with him while she smiles like that annoys me a lot." James tries to defend himself, "I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. It really does and I- it's just that she was never with other guys usually and I – " He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, "I'm just describing my jealousy, aren't I?"

His teammates laugh and Sirius crosses his arms, "Yup." He tilts his head and pops his 'p', "So, how long have ya had a thing for our little Lupin, Prongs?"

James gives in and leans forwards to cover his face with his hands, "I don't know, Pads. I didn't even know I had a thing for her until three seconds ago." He opens his fingers and peeks at his friend, "And what am I supposed to do now? She's completely in love with your brother and she's Moony's sister."

Sirius rolls his eyes, "Oh please, she isn't in love with my brother."

James drops his arms onto his lap and looks at Sirius with confusion, "How would you know? She seems pretty in love with this to me."

"James, do you really not known that she's had a crush on you for almost a year? Everyone knows, even Remus."

James's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Since when – I - why didn't anyone tell me?"

"She made it very obvious. It's not our fault you're a knucklehead when it comes to women." Sirius chuckles and throws his towel over his shoulder. James stares blankly in front of him as all kinds of emotions wash over him.

You had a crush on him?

"Yeah, w-well she doesn't like me anymore," James concludes as he stands up and slips on his jeans, "I was a dick, she must hate me now." He clumsily buttons his chemise.

"Y/n could never hate you." Sirius chuckles, "Just go talk to her, you idiot."

James stares at his friend for a moment, debating his options, but then nods. As soon as he walks out of the changing room, he's determined to make this all okay again.

However, when he enters the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later and sees you and Regulus sitting on the ground around a game of wizards chess, his heart sinks.

His eyes automatically find the board. You're losing.

James can't help but remember all the times you've beaten him and the way your cheek had risen in excitement and smile lines had illuminated your features. He doesn't understand why Regulus would want to miss that smile.

James would kill to see you smile like that again.

You glance up at the sound of the door just as Regulus turns around. James stands in the doorway, his skin pales and his knuckles flex as his eyes vibrate. They're locked onto yours. Instantly, you're on your feet, "James!" You exclaim, eyes shifting from him and then Regulus. Regulus, whose expression is blank.

"Sorry," James mutters weakly. He realizes her doesn't have it in him to be jealous anymore. Not now that he knows why he's jealous. Who is he to stand in the way of your happiness? And if you're happy with Regulus, then he's happy for you.

He walks by you without a word and you turn around to watch him leave. However, your chest tightens when he pauses and it looks like he's debating something. You sense Regulus stand, "You know what? No." James suddenly blurts out and then turns around. You look at him like he's insane.

"I can't let you do this," He continues breathlessly.

"I think your friend has gone completely bonkers." Regulus leans in to whisper in your ear with a smirk but James interrupts him,

"This really doesn't concern you." James doesn't waste any time on him as he looks at you again, "Y/n, you should be with me, not him."

"Excuse me?" You frown and then look at Regulus as if to make sure he'd also heard James correctly. Regulus's smirk just widens as he crosses his arms.

Your embarrassment becomes worse when the common room door opens and Sirius, Peter, and your brother walk in. Their amused chatter turns into hushed whispers until they become silent as they watch the scene in front of them.

James's head whips around and you assume he'll stop whatever he thinks this is, but instead he just continues to ramble, "Hi!" His voice is hurried and loud. Sirius frowns. "You guys can stay. You should hear this too, Moony."

James turns to you again, "I like you."

You blink at him and look around the room, worried that you're losing your mind. Your brother has his cheeks flushed and he narrows his eyes at his friend. However, his eyes move to you and they soften when he sees your expression, "Y/n," Remus whispers.

"You like me? Is this one of your sick jokes?" You're unamused. James shakes his head adamantly but you continue in one breath, "I've liked you for months and months and it's only now, when you probably think I like someone else, you decide you like me? That's unfair, James" You sound stern.

"That's really fucking unfair," You whisper and push past him. James turns to you and calls your name as you disappear up the stairs to the dorms. It feels all too familiar when it sinks in that he messed things up. Again.

"You're such an idiot," Sirius groans as he drops his head on Remus's shoulder dramatically.

* * *

You throw yourself onto your bed with a bounce and scoop your pillow into your arms, screaming into it. Why does James have to be so goddamn infuriating all the damn time? He's always been oblivious to you until now — just when you've been trying your hardest to move on.

You hear a knock on your door and you grumble in response. One of your roommates walks into the room, "Remus is waiting by the stairs. Says he wants to talk to you." She says as she throws her book-bag onto the ground. You sit up, running a hand all over your face with an annoyed groan.

Reluctantly, you make your way downstairs. Your hand slides down the railing until you pause and see your brother at the end of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" You raise your brow and mimic his posture with a small smile.

James and Sirius aren't with him. "Come here," Remus demands calmly.

You look away and bite your lip. Still, you jump down the last pair of stairs until you're directly in front of your older brother, "Y'know, I don't know why you're pissed at me. I wasn't the one who — " Remus suddenly flicks your forehead which shuts you up.

"Do you like James?" He stares at you.

You stare back, your heart pounding. You don't know what to answer him. "I- I don't know."

"Well, you better know because he's having an existential crisis in the dorm right now and to be honest, Y/n, I'm so sick of pretending I don't know you've been head over heels in love with him for what feels like years." Your brother always sounds serious, but this time it scares you a little. Your arms drop to your side.

"Would you let me date James if I liked him?" You ask cautiously.

"I couldn't exactly stop you," Remus shrugs and looks away a moment, "Who am I to dictate your life." You see a small smile curl his lips, "Plus, James is an idiot but he's harmless. I've never seen him so genuine."

You perk up, "Yeah?"

Remus turns to you and reaches out to hold your shoulders, "Yeah. You should talk to him. He's convinced you're in love with Regulus." Your smile disappears.

"Oh, yeah, Regulus."

"You aren't in love with him, are you?" Remus asks, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Of course not!" You stutter, "I mean — I did like him for a moment but I've always liked James more. And I'm not exactly Regulus's type, y'know…" You admit in a whisper, knowing Remus knows exactly what you mean.

Remus smiles and nods. You look up at him and see his eyes shimmer, "If you've been holding back from liking James because of me, don't." He says sincerely, "He could make you happy, I know that."

You look at your brother's expression. He's completely serious. You look away and think back to James's confession: Y/n/n, you should be with me, not him. Your cheeks burn just remembering his words. You turn your head to your brother and nod, smiling. Remus drops his hands on your shoulders and lets you sprint up the stairs.

You barely make it to your brother's dorm when the door opens and James comes out. Your forehead hits his and the momentum causes him to fall backward.

You yelp as James's arms wrap around your waist as he cushions your fall and smacks the back of his head on the ground. You lift yourself with your arm, your knees in between James's legs as you practically lay on top of him.

James winces and his eyes shut.

"James! Are you okay?" You pant, barely aware of the embarrassing position you're in.

Sirius and Peter peek their heads out of the door and Sirius smirks when he sees the two of you, "I don't think Moony meant you could jump straight into this, Y/n." He jokes.

"Shut up," James mumbles and his hand holds your back as he sits himself up. You're now sitting on your heels as you look at James with wide eyes. He looks at you too and then his thumb gently brushes over your forehead, "You're gonna form a bruise." He mutters, eyebrows scrunching.

You smile faintly and move to adjust his glasses on his nose, "Probably from your glasses."

James stands up and helps you up with him. Your hand lingers in his and you smile faintly.

"We should talk." You say.

"Yeah," James looks away bashfully, "Come with me." He takes your hand again and you let him steer you down the stairs. Your feet barely feel like they're on the ground as you follow him.

Your stomach is in knots when he pushes the doors to the Common Room open and you make your way down new stairs and multiple hallways. Your head is spinning.

"James?" You mutter but he continues to walk, "James! Wait." You shout in a laugh. James turns around just as you pull him closer. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears when you delicately push him towards the wall and as his back hits the wall, you press your lips on his.

Your hands cup his cheeks and his hand lowers to your lower back as he pulls you into him. You can't help but smile into his mouth as you run your hands in his curls.

After a moment, he disconnects your lips and his thumbs rub across your cheeks as he holds them. He grins, "Since when do you know how to kiss like that?" He teases with a raised brow.

You smirk, "Wouldn't you like to know." You kiss him again quickly.

"Y/n, be honest," James looks serious. You frown. You thought your joke was funny. "Do – did? Di- do you still like Regulus?" He tries to avert his eyes but quickly looks at you as if he simply can't look away, "I think I deserve to know," He mutters.

"Of course you do!" You look into his eyes, "And if I still had any feelings for Regulus, I wouldn't hesitate to let you know, but I don't like him – not anymore. I haven't for weeks. Regulus doesn't like girls," You explain slowly.

James's eyes widen, "Oh. Ok." He smiles and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Good."

You giggle and kiss him again, "You're cute when you're jealous, Potter." You pause, "Cute but just a tad insane."

James frowns, "You'd go insane too, if you were me."

You grin, "Perhaps I would." You tease him and look at him adoringly, "You won't make me find out will you?"

James returns your grin and wraps his arms around you. He kisses your forehead and says,

"Never, my love."

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cozage · 9 months

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hii!! can i request for the event?? had this weird little scenario where a little kid goes up to reader, completely in love and confessing their love (even tho reader doesnt know who this little kid is) and the op men just look at what's happening with either a "😬" or "😠" reaction. any characters for this scenario would work but if you could put zoro as part of the 3 that would be great

Child Crushes Send me an event request!

Characters: fem reader x Zoro, Sanji, Shanks Total word count: 600

Zoro

“You are so beautiful!” A child screamed, slamming into you and wrapping his arms around your midrift tightly. “I love you!”

“Hey!” Zoro shouted, reaching for the kid. “Get off her!”

“Zoro!” you chided, shielding the kid from your boyfriend's wrath. “It’s okay!”

“You are the most amazing lady I’ve ever seen! Your smile is radiant, and you are kinder than anyone I’ve ever met!”

You laughed, slowly prying the kid off of you. You were about to bend down to talk to him, but Zoro beat you to it.

“Listen brat,” he hissed. “Go find another beautiful lady! This one is mine.”

The kid stuck his tongue at Zoro. “If you keep being so mean, she’ll leave you for a real man like me!”

“What did you-!”

“Zoro, stop!” you giggled, pulling him away. You looked back at the little boy, giving him a wink. “It was nice to meet you!”

“I’ll see you soon, lovely lady!”

You intertwined your arm with Zoro’s again, laughing at his outburst. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“He reminded me of that stupid cook,” Zoro groaned. “Besides, that kid needs to buzz off. You’re already taken.”

Sanji

“Excuse me miss,” a small voice came from behind you, and you turned around.

He was young. Probably around 6 or 7, with caramel brown hair and clear blue eyes.

“Hi there,” you said, breaking away from Sanji’s hold so you could squat down so you were at eye level with him.

“I just wanted to tell you are the most beautiful woman alive.” He held out a wildflower with small white petals. “Will you marry me?”

You giggled at his request. His bluntness reminded you of someone else you knew.

“I’m flattered. How about you come find me when you’re older?” you challenged.

He pushed the flower into your hands. “I will. I’ll never forget you! Until then, here’s something to remember me by!”

He took off, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You laughed and stood up, your hand returning to Sanji’s.

“You have competition,” you teased.

Sanji hummed pleasantly, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “He has good taste in women. Can’t argue with that.”

Shanks

You unfolded the note the little boy had given you and read the scribbles across the paper.

Please make my day and kiss me. You are so beautiful and kind. I love you.

Shanks peered over your shoulder, looking at the note, and burst out into laughter.

“Shanks!” you scolded under your breath. “Don’t laugh!”

“Look kid, only a real man gets to kiss this lady.” He planted a messy kiss on your cheek to prove his point.

The kid looked at you and him, and then ran off.

“Shanks!”

“He’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Shanks was right. A few hours later, the kid was standing at the end of the bar, peeking out and watching you from afar.

“You wanna impress her?” Shanks asked, creeping up behind the boy. “Give her a rose and ask her for a kiss. To her face. Like a man.”

“Will that work?” the boy whispered, glancing back at you nervously.

“That’s how I got her to kiss me,” he admitted. “Good news for you, I even have a spare rose.”

The little boy walked up to you, his knees visibly shaking as he gripped the rose in his hands.

“I got this for you,” he said softly. “Will you kiss me?”

Your eyes darted to Shanks, a smile dancing across your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the flower from him and giving him a small peck on the cheek. “I’d be honored to kiss such a polite young man.”

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snowsinterlude · 5 months

Text

playing dangerous.

c.w: gun play, peacekeeper coriolanus, fingering, rough sex, throatfucking, slapping, degrading, breeding, hate fucking, unproctected sex

based on this ask ! hope you like it anon, sorry if i got anything wrong. mwah

you could say a lot of things about coriolanus snow. you could say he was mentally unstable, that he was a whiny bitch who would throw a tantrum at any small thing that made him angry.

however, you couldn't say he was a bad fuck. not when he had your face pressed down and a gun pointed at your sopping cunt. you couldn't say he was ugly either, not with that white peacekeeper uniform hugging his body so well.

"don't worry," he whispered, biting your shoulder, "it only has one bullet." he smiled, chuckling at your clear despair, a total contrast to your soaked panties. "not as if you care, though"

"of course i do! fuck it, snow. you're the reason people call cops bastards!" you said, frowning at him as if your hips weren't bucking up on the gun. you didn't even knew if what he said was actually true.

"you should be grateful i'm not playing russian roulette on your pussy, darling." he said, thanking heaven's he handcuffed your hands before all that. "if you don't like it, i know just the right place to aim it. other than that perverted wet pussy of yours. are you a pervert? god, you're soaking wet" he said, grinding the gun in your cunt.

"aim it at your head, you sickfuck." you spat, not bothering looking at him.

"i don't know if you noticed but i have a gun pointed to your pussy, if you don't wanna get shot you should start being a good girl instead of a manic bitch." he said, slapping your ass and making your body jolt.

how the hell did it come to this?! you remembered that he had returned home after deployment and your parents made you go over to his house to give him some sweet dessert as a way to ❛thank him for his services.❜ fuck it. you hated him. if depended on you, he would have been killed by a rebel or something, but god, that's the best dick you've ever seen or felt, even if through grinding. you would never admit it to him though.

"on your knees, please." he said, a fake chivalry on his sadistic tone. and did you have any other options? of course not. so now you were on your knees, gulping down and watching him unbuckle his pants, his hand slapping your face lightly to make you wake up and stop looking so much at his eight inches shaft. "god, you're drooling so much just from looking. guess i won't have to aim a gun to your head for you to suck it." he said, and you stared at him with anger.

"you better kill me already cause i am not sucking that thing." you said.

well, all your defenses were throw away as he pointed the loaded gun to your head, smiling as you opened your mouth and engulfed him obediently, still looking at him with that angry stare in your eyes, that was soon replaced with tears as you took him. god, how could a dick taste so good?

"fuck, you're taking me so good, doll." he said, smiling as you drooled on his dick, getting it all wet from your saliva. "making such a mess, crying so much... you're so pretty when you're not running your mouth around so much." he said, grabbing your hair and making you curse mentally before he started to fuck your throat, his balls meeting your chin as you took him, giving in as you moaned against his cock.

too aggressive, you thought. but it was just as good as you imagined it to be. and he was getting just what he wanted to. he was fucking that attitude out of you, your throat taking him so well he only wondered how good it would feel to fuck your cunt. with that thought in mind, he pulled back of your mouth, and you thought you were really dumb from how you tried to get him to thrust into your mouth again. you wanted to taste him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your despair.

"i didn't even had a proper taste of your cunt and you're already dumb? thought you were stronger." he said, getting you to stand up as you were still salivating. he cleaned your tear stained cheeks, the softest thing he would do to you today. so, ripping your panties and seeing your cunt, he thrusted two fingers in it, not mindinho if you were uncomfortable. your wetness made it very clear that you weren't anywhere close to discomfort or pain. and your moans did it too.

"fuck it, get away, coriolanus!" you pleaded, not wanting to be the one moaning his name that night. and he didn’t even bother listening to you, too occupied with thrusting his entire lenght inside of you. it felt horribly good, his hot cock sloppily fucking your pussy as he fucked you in missionary, holding your left thigh to hug his waist just so he could have a better access to you. so good. so hot. it felt perfect.

you felt dumb.

your eyes closed shut as you did your best to hold in your moans, letting out a few groans and grunts as he slapped your ass, getting a hold of your other thigh and fucking you with your back against the wall, your eyes looking into his. fuck. you prayed to god that he wouldn’t end up making you say something, but god didn't seem to want to help you.

"tell me, doll," he started, groaning against your lips. "who does this pussy belongs to?" he asked, and you did your best not to answer, but the way your hips were trying to buck against his seemed as an answer. "words, bunny. use your words."

"n-no. no- i won't- fuck!" you moaned, lips opened slightly as you couldn't help but let your moans out of your mouth. you just wanted to cum already. it was too brain-mushing for you to do something other than moan and squeeze his dick inside you.

"tell me, or i'm not gonna let you cum." he said, brushing the gun on your clit, the cold metal making you mewl and cry.

"i-it's yours, c-coryo. it's yours. i'm sorry! please let me cum!" you begged, crying. he smiled, kissing your cheek and tasting your salty tear drop.

"i don't recall letting you call me coryo, bunny." he said, his dick kissing your cervix as you felt it throbbing inside you.

"o-officer! fuck, i'm sorry!" you slurred, and finally he had what he wanted.

he finally fucked the attitude out of you. not only that but he also got his dick wet. it was perfect.

"good girl." and you came, shaking on his cock as he kept thrusting in you, running for his climax.

once he did came inside you, he didn’t allow you to clean yourself, made you walk and sleep with your pussy filled by his cum.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #tbosas smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow #📚 anon

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scarletlizzard · 2 months

Text

Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #gp!Natasha x reader #marvel #marvel one shot #part 2

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flrlgreen · 4 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link

a/n: thank you for the support on my last two posts! i appreciate it so much! here’s some filthy toji action tho. i apologize again for any mistakes i'm always tired.

MINORS DNI

content warnings: age gap, sex toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, name-calling, recording, use of the names slut, whore, princess, and baby girl, possessiveness, size kink, teasing.

link

Having a much older boyfriend wasn’t for the faint of heart. Being a sophomore in college and dating a man who was in his late 30s proved to be challenging at times. Although he took care of your every single need and made sure you never went without. There were times when you couldn’t stand him.

He knew that dating a young woman in college would be hard. After all, you know what they say about college life. Toji was a possessive man and would do anything to show that you were his. Never mind the age gap between you two. When he found out that Gojo Satoru, a classmate that you were supposed to work on a project with, had asked you out it took every ounce of his being not to tear that man apart.

It didn’t help that you kept telling him that it didn’t mean anything and that his constant possessive behavior made you want to break up. It just ignited something in him.

Right now your boyfriend was towering over your smaller frame. It made you rub your thighs together. “So, you wanna break up do you?” He said in a low register. All you could get out was a meek ‘yes’. He laughed when he heard your response and his thumb found your chin. He forced your gaze to meet his.

It felt like he was burning holes in you with his eyes. You couldn’t even manage to make eye contact. “Look at me Doll.” A small tinge of anger was laced with his words. “No.” You knew he wouldn’t like your reply, but getting him frustrated was a part of the fun. “No?” He says and before you could even process what he had said he grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder.

“Toji! Put me down!” You banged your fists on his broad and strong back and it didn’t phase him one bit. He threw your smaller body on the bed and flipped you over. He wasted no time getting on top of you. You felt his hard cock on your ass. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to change that attitude.” He leans in and says next to your ear. “Fuck off.” You spit. Toji’s hand finds your ass and gives it a harsh pinch. “Stay right here, and don’t fucking move.”

At this point, you’re leaking, and despite wanting to get under Toji’s skin for irritating you, you know better than to move. You feel his body leave the bed and you hear some shuffling before he climbs back into bed and gets behind you. You look up and into the mirror in front of you. “Arch, now.” He demands and you oblige. “Good girl.” He smiles and grabs the dildo he had in hand. You watch as he reaches over your arched body and suctions the dildo to the mirror. “Suck it now.” “R-right now?” You stutter. “Did I stutter, Sweetie?”

Your lips press against the tip of the dildo and Toji watches as he palms himself with one hand and holds your phone in the other. “Don’t be shy now Princess. Show the camera how well you can suck cock.” Knowing you were on camera made you feel like jelly.

Your tongue swirls around the soft tip of the sex toy before you begin to move your mouth down the toy inch by inch. As every inch slides down your throat, slurping sounds fill the room as you struggle to take the thick length. “Poor Princess, I know you can take more. You take my huge cock every night.” He teases and rubs your ass, still recording.

Your throat relaxes around the inches before you take the remaining inches down your warm throat. “That’s a good girl.” Toji groans while pulling his boxers down. You make eye contact with your boyfriend in the mirror while you gag and choke on the fake cock. “Show Gojo how well you can suck cock.” That’s when you realize. Toji is recording this to send to him. The thought alone makes you want to pass out in embarrassment but also makes you hot.

Knowing this was going to your flirty classmate, you had to put on a show. You bob your head up and down the length while looking directly into the phone’s camera. Drool ran down your chin and fell onto the bed sheets. Your throat bulged and your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time you went down to the base. “So good at choking on cock. What a slut.” Your boyfriend mutters and pulls your skirt and panties down in one tug.

“Take it all, and stay there.” Toji uses his free hand to give his thick cock a few experimental pumps before lining it up with your dripping cunt. He shifts the focus of the camera down to where you two are about to be connected. “So fucking wet, all for me. No one else.” He hisses and shoves his entire cock in all at the same time. “God damn,” He groans. No words can escape your mouth that don’t sound muffled.

The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim with Toji’s cock was otherworldly. You cry around the sex toy that’s stuffed down your throat while Toji starts moving. His brutal thrusts make your lower half flash with pleasure every time he hits that sweet spot inside you. “My baby has the tightest little pussy, doesn’t she?” He says all while not slowing down one bit. “Oh wait, your mouth is full isn’t it?” He laughs. “Only I can make you feel this good.” His tone was so deep and laced with so much jealousy like you had never heard before.

The gagging and smacking sounds continued and it was all becoming too much. Toji would occasionally angle the camera downwards so Gojo could of course get a full view of his assault on your pussy, and make direct eye contact with you in the mirror while he made you gag and cry.

He noticed your body was beginning to show signs of giving out. “Aw, baby. Is it too much?” You nodded with your throat full. “You wanna cum don’t you Princess?” A muffled ‘yes’ was all that came out of your mouth while his tip kissed your cervix with each deep thrust. “God, I’m gonna cum to. Cum for me whore.” That was all you needed. Your knees shook and gave out while your orgasm washed over you and your boyfriend’s thrusts became sloppier. The now-soaking toy slipped from your throat as you melted into the bed.

“Fuck, I came so fucking much,” Toji says and pans the camera down to the mess he made all over your pussy and ends the video.

Send.

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