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angelsforthenight · 14 days

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i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #tlou2 smut #lesbian #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #smut #ellie smut #billie eilish #lesbian smut

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nordschleifes · 4 months

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what happens after midnight?

➝ it was just supposed to be ten months of fun and traveling the world. but you didn't count on your heart going against you

➝ word count: 6,5k

➝ warnings: sugar relationships, hospitals, smut

➝ author's note: finally a finished work!

The watch on your wrist indicated that it was 5:30 PM. Pursing your lips, you watched through the screen set up in hospitality as the blue and pink car pulled into the pits for the second time. The momentary confusion that took over the place was replaced by frustration when the engineer's voice sounded across the room.

— Let's retire the car.

The silence that followed could seem melancholic, even given the context. However, you knew that the man inside the car was biting his tongue, holding back all the words that the frustration of yet another race unfinished that season, on that very day, would make him shout over the radio.

“I’m not a kid to whine, Y/N”, you heard him repeat in your mind, the phrase accompanied by the mischievous smile that made your internal organs turn into jelly. You had no idea what it would be like to live without seeing that smile.

Seeing that he was out of the car, you got up from your desk and silently slipped through the halls of the team facility. Something about that lonely walk made your heart sink even more, until you found the door with his name, the white letters against the navy blue background.

Fernando Alonso.

Your paths crossed months ago. With your student debt growing and the salary you earned during your internship being barely enough to pay your share of the bills for the apartment you lived in with a colleague, you decided to turn to the suggestion of one of your friends, whose life you had given a turning point after registering on a website specializing in sugar relationships.

The first few weeks were unpromising. The guys you had expressed interest in seemed more interested in more pictures of your breasts than in actually talking to you and coming to an agreement. Until, during a break in your shift at the hospital, a suggested profile caught your attention.

The main photo appeared to be professional, taken on the deck of a yacht, and showed a man with dark hair and the shadow of a smile on his face with his arms crossed. The other images were more informal, one taken next to an airplane window and another in the gym, a headband and the bulging veins on his neck indicating that he was exerting himself.

In the profile description, he presented himself as Fernando, a 41-year-old Spaniard looking for someone who could accompany him on his travels in exchange for a generous payment. The idea of getting paid to travel seemed interesting, but it definitely didn't fit with your idea of continuing your studies to become a doctor in Miami.

That night, you ended up not touching the heart on the screen.

However, as fate would have it, at the end of your internship, you did not receive the letter of recommendation that you needed so much to apply for the residency program that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your degree. You were passionate about the field of pediatrics and the idea of working in one of the great children's hospitals in Florida, the Holtz Children's Hospital, were always in your mind.

— Y/N, it is clear that, despite you being an excellent intern, you have been making silly mistakes when filling out the forms and records — your advisor said during your last meeting — Furthermore, the reports are far below what we expect from a student with your ability.

— But, my grades…

— They are sufficient, yes, but the program requires more than grades, Y/N — he said, as he removed his glasses — It requires residents to be in their best shape, both academically and mentally. And it's clear to me that you don't meet the second requirement.

You blinked. Was it so obvious that you were tired?

— So, what should I do? — you asked, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

— I would advise you to try to apply for it next year.

— But, what can I do until then?

— I would recommend that you rest a little before continuing with your plans — he replied, smiling — Maybe learning a new hobby would be good. That or even a trip around the world, who knows.

Leaving your advisor's office with your dreams postponed had been a blow to you. However, his words reminded you of the man who was looking for someone to travel with. Sitting in your car, you searched for his profile and, after a deep sigh, you typed a short message, a simple question.

Still looking for a travel companion?

The answer didn't take long and came in a playful tone.

So obvious?

Well, that's what it says on your profile.

Good to know that you read it.

I thought it was something basic.

You'd be amazed at how many women don't read it before sending a message.

I can't blame them, your photos are much more interesting.

The conversation between you flowed almost naturally. He seemed intelligent, good-natured and, above all, interested in your life and career, asking questions and sharing little details, like the fact that his sister was also a doctor, just like you wanted to be. It was impossible to deny that there was an interesting chemistry between you.

However, this was not a flirting game, but rather, a business deal.

Do you still want to accompany me on my travels?

Well, I wouldn't be answering you if I wasn't interested, would I?

Very funny.

I'm just being honest.

Looking at the three dots flashing on the screen, there was some anticipation building up in your chest.

I like honesty. It's a good quality.

I assume you're honest too.

I am. So much so that I want to do this the right way. Can we meet next week?

Will you be in Miami?

In fact, in New York. But I can take a detour, what do you think?

Perfect.

Your first meeting was at a high-end Japanese restaurant, located on Claughton Island, called NAOE. You even thought you were in the wrong place, since the space was completely empty except for the employees who were preparing the dishes next to the chef, who was wearing a sort of white kimono. However, after identifying yourself, the maître d' confirmed that you were in the right place and asked you to sit at the only table that had been prepared there, conveniently behind a bamboo screen.

Fernando arrived shortly after, making you jump to your feet.

— Good evening, Y/N — he said, before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek — It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

— The pleasure is all mine.

After settling in at the table, the waiter wrote down the drinks you had chosen before returning to the kitchen. However, the request from the man in front of you only made you even more curious.

— Aren't you going to drink anything tonight?

Fernando smiled a little.

— I don’t drink.

— Never?

— Never. After I realized that alcohol wouldn't make me go faster, I chose to give it up — he replied — I don't smoke either, if that's your next question.

—Actually, my next question would be if I can drink in your presence — you smiled.

— As far as I know, we haven't signed anything. You can do whatever you want.

Dinner continued without any of you mentioning the agreement that had made him fly to Miami to see you. However, at the same time as you were eager to settle everything with him, something told you to let him bring up the subject.

— Are you always this quiet? — Fernando asked, as he put down the glass of water.

— No — you said, after swallowing the piece of sushi you were chewing.

— So there's something bothering you.

— No, there isn't.

He stared into your eyes, seeming to read between the lines of your words. Then, he let out a sigh, reaching into his pants’ pocket and taking out his cell phone.

— You want to talk about our agreement, don't you?

— Well, that's what you came here to do, isn't it?

— Actually, my intention was just to enjoy some good Japanese food alongside an interesting woman — Fernando said, while searching for something on the device — But, if you prefer to get straight to the point...

He held out the phone toward you. When you picked it up, you noticed that there was a document on the screen, with the title “Relationship Agreement” in bold letters at the top of it. Something about those words made your stomach churn with tension.

— I asked my lawyer to write a draft to guide our conversation. However, I want to make it clear that there are some topics that are non-negotiable for me…

— Sex? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Confidentiality — Fernando replied — I'm a discreet person when it comes to my personal life and the last thing I want is my face on the cover of gossip magazines.

— So sex is negotiable?

— You're very interested in this topic, aren't you?

— Are you not interested?

A mischievous smile appeared on Fernando's lips.

— No — he replied — It's in the contract, if you want to take a look. Page three, if I'm not mistaken.

You scrolled through the document until you found the section that talked about intimacy, reading it carefully. In the document, sexual relations and any contact that could be classified as such were completely prohibited, as your relationship would be limited to the emotional context.

— This means…

— That I don't want sex from you. I just want your company, guapa.

— And you're going to pay me for this? — you raised an eyebrow.

— Yes, as described in the section on financial support — Fernando replied — The trips will be paid by me, as well as all your expenses while you are accompanying me. I will also give you a monthly allowance to do whatever you want with it.

You looked at his phone again, thoughtfully.

— You'll have an apartment in Monaco too — he murmured, as he ran his index finger along the rim of his glass.

— I will? Why?

— Because I want you around, Y/N. Besides, making you come back here every time will be too exhausting. Believe me, the first time is amazing, but after doing this for 20 years, flying has become the part I hate most about my job.

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the driver.

— And how long would that be valid?

— Until midnight of November 20th.

That's how you agreed to become Fernando's traveling companion, as he preferred to put it. And you could only describe those last few months as “a dream”.

When the door to the small room opened, you jumped up in the chair you were in, waking up suddenly from your daydreams. On the wall, the clock indicated that it was already past 6PM. Walking through the door, Fernando held a white towel in his hand and a bottle of water, keeping his head down. Behind him, Edoardo, his physiotherapist, was saying something in Italian, which he wasn't paying attention to.

— Prepare qui le nostre cose e, dopo la gara, lasceremo tutto alle persone dell'Aston — the driver replied, before raising his head and finding you in front of him. Pursing your lips, you fought your own frustration to be open to accepting his. And today, more than ever, Fernando needed you.

Dropping his things haphazardly on a small table placed next to the door, he walked over to you in silence, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The silence that followed made your heart tighten in his chest. It wasn't the end of the season he deserved, quite the opposite.

— What happened? — you asked.

— Water pump — Fernando replied, the irritation evident in his voice — That shitbox…

You let out a sigh, stroking the back of his neck.

— It's okay, Fer. Now it's over.

Lifting his head, the driver looked at you, brushing aside a strand of your hair.

— Yeah. It’s over.

— Are you happy? — you asked in a low voice.

— That it’s over? I think so — Fernando said, while you watched a drop of sweat run down his temple — But, I have the feeling that I could have done it differently.

— Differently?

— I think I waited too long, guapa — he murmured.

— But it's over now. And you will move on, to a new place, with new people.

Fernando smiled a little.

— Yeah, I will.

He walked away from you to change, taking off his overalls and underwear to put on his shorts and blue team shirt. Meanwhile, you approached the table where his things were, such as his cell phone, his pass and the blue cap he had been wearing all day. Taking the accessory, you turned to him, who was sitting in a chair, tying his sneakers.

— Your cap — you said, smiling.

— Is my hair that bad?

You nodded, causing Fernando to laugh before stretching his hand towards you. However, you didn't hand it to him, preferring to push the strands that were on his forehead before positioning the accessory on his head. After arranging the strands at the back, he stood up with a smile.

— Thank you, guapa — the driver said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door and, consequently, the cameras that awaited him. After the door closed, your eyes found the hands of the clock on the wall.

“There’s still a long way to go”, you thought.

Between meetings, photos, goodbyes, welcomes and a long break for dinner, you and Fernando arrived at the double room you shared late at night. However, contrary to what you expected that morning, you didn't feel relief that the marathon was over or anxiety about finally catching your plane back to the United States.

You felt an almost suffocating sadness.

— What time does your flight leave tomorrow? — Fernando asked, settling down on the sofa in the small hall that connected the rooms while you placed your bag on the table in front of the television.

— Eight in the morning, I guess — you murmured, turning your face towards him — Why?

— Not at all, I just — he hesitated for a few seconds, running a hand through his hair — I wanted to know.

— Do you want to take me to the airport?

— Sincerely? No.

The coldness of the response made your throat tighten. Part of you wished he had replied that he wanted to take you to the airport. Part of you wanted him to say that he would like to spend every possible second by your side before you, inevitably, had to follow your own paths, your own destinies, that weren't tied to each other.

— You think it will be easier this way, don't you? — you murmured, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

— No — he replied, his eyes searching yours. You didn't want to look at him, but at the same time, you knew that this could be the last time you would do that — I think, one way or another, it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

The silence in that room was the longest that had ever stretched between you during all those months of coexistence.

— Why would it be?

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N.

You pressed your lips together, feeling something tighten in your throat.

Going back to Miami was the last thing you wanted at that moment. You wanted to be by his side. You wanted to wake up every day to his voice humming some song whose lyrics you didn't understand. You wanted to see the smile on his face every time you commented on an article about pediatrics that you had read.

However, you needed to go back. Those last few months had just been a detour, a break from his monotonous routine. There were people, commitments, a residency whose selection you had passed with flying colors, a lifetime of taking care of children waiting for you to move on.

And moving forward meant leaving Fernando behind.

You didn't notice the moment the first tear ran down your face, nor the second. But you noticed the movement of the driver in front of you, approaching with heavy steps. Placing his hands on your face, his expression was serious, almost dark, contrasting with the heat in his eyes.

— I have to let you go in peace — Fernando said softly, his thumb sliding over one of the tears that was stuck on your cheek.

Your lower lip trembled. You just wish it were all easier.

— Please, Y/N — Fernando continued — Don't ask me to take you to the airport. Don't ask me to say goodbye to you. Don't ask me to see you leaving, because I won't bear seeing you get on a plane without me.

At that moment, you had no idea if you would be able to get on a plane in a few hours. Not without Fernando by your side, carrying his trusty black backpack and making some comment about having a sweatshirt ready for you to wear when you get cold during the flight.

So, you asked the only question your mind was capable of formulating.

— What time is it?

— What?

— What time is it, Fernando? — you repeated, seriously.

Still holding his face, he turned his wrist slightly to look at the hands of the black Richard Mille he was wearing.

— Two past midnight — he murmured — You’re free now.

— No, I'm not free — you replied, bringing your face closer to his.

— But…

— I stopped being free a long time ago, Fernando.

Fernando's expression seemed sad, which made your heart feel heavy inside your chest.

You didn't know how to explain to Fernando that you would never be free again simply because you were completely in love with him. So much so that you hadn't even realized the exact moment it had happened.

Maybe it was the day he saw you reading an article about early childhood nutrition and asked you to explain the impact of cow's milk on babies. Maybe it was the day he took you on his motorbike to a viewpoint so you could watch the sunset over Monaco. Maybe it was the moment he introduced his world to you, describing every detail with enchanting passion. Maybe it was the day you pressed that heart on your cell phone screen, right below his photo.

And no piece of paper could control what your heart felt.

Using whatever courage you had left, you tilted your head and closed your eyes, brushing your lips against his. The touch was delicate and subtle, but enough to fill your chest with an almost unbearable heat. You had thought so much about what that moment would be like, fantasized so much about the different possibilities, imagined so many times what it would be like to be in Fernando's arms, that you felt a little hesitant about continuing.

However, the decision about the direction of that shy kiss was made by the driver. Moving closer to you, he placed your mouth completely against his, hands sliding towards the back of your neck. After a few seconds, he pulled away, panting.

— Y/N…

— Please, Fer.

However, he pulled away from you, pain evident in his green-stained eyes.

— No, Y/N — Fernando said, in a firm tone — Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be for both of us.

— You're the one who's making it difficult — you replied, feeling more tears filling your eyes — I want this...

— But you don't need this — he growled — You need to go back to your city, to your apartment, to your life. And this life has no place for me, just as there is no place for you in mine.

The statement was like a punch in the gut. Taking a step back, the feeling was of having awakened from the best dream of your life to find a true nightmare. Mentally, you questioned everything that had happened so far, from the dinner in Miami to that kiss permeated by your desire for him that had been repressed for so long. “So it was all a lie?”, you thought, as he walked towards his room.

— Fer…

— Goodbye, Y/N — he murmured over his shoulder, before disappearing into the dim light, with the door closing behind him.

Your skin felt cold, even in the residual desert heat that remained inside the suite. It was almost unbelievable that this would be the end of those ten months of smiles, jokes and laughter as the two of you traveled the world. A dry and cruel goodbye, without even looking back.

Walking slowly towards your room, you couldn't help but feel a strange emptiness inside your chest. Dropping down on the mattress anyway, you realized how exhausted you were, both physically, courtesy of the intense pace of a race day, and emotionally, with the mix of completely opposite feelings that made your lower lip tremble.

You felt that it was unfair, that the way you were being discarded by Fernando was cruel, not to mention painful. And the worst part was not being able to understand the reason for that attitude, for that cold look that shattered your heart. However, your rational side soon began to whisper in the back of your mind, condemning you for believing that he could see you beyond who you were from the beginning.

An acquisition. A product. A pretty thing for him to drag around the circuits.

That realization made tears run down your face, anger and sadness spilling out of you and making you sob loudly. You even thought about smothering your crying with the pillow, but you didn't move, allowing it to echo off the walls of the room, until it lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your cell phone's alarm clock. Rubbing your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for long seconds before finally working up the courage to get up from the bed and move forward.

Exactly as Fernando had asked.

As soon as you arrived in Miami, you decided to buy, with the money you had saved in the last few months, a studio near the beach, in addition to arranging the documentation for your residency at Holtz Children's Hospital, which was about to begin. Watching the fireworks that lit up the sea and announced the arrival of a new year, you promised yourself that the months to come would be better than the previous ones.

And by better, you meant no trips, no adventures and no crazy things.

No looks, no jokes, no laughter.

No men, no athletes, no Fernando.

The first few months passed in a blur. Hospital shifts took up much of your time, and your free time was spent reading articles about intriguing cases and organizing your new place. You didn't even notice spring arriving in the city, much less the anticipation for the great sporting event that the city would host in the following weeks.

You were making your first round of the rooms in the west wing of the hospital when, upon entering a room, you came across a little boy playing with a model of a dark blue Formula 1 car. Swallowing hard, you smiled widely.

— Good morning, Mrs. Melendi.

The boy's mother jumped up from her armchair.

— Good morning, doctor — she replied — Greet her, Omar.

The boy looked up at you.

— Hi.

— Good morning, Omar — you greeted him, placing one of your hands on the guard of his bed — How are you feeling today?

— Well — he replied, returning his attention to the cart.

— He spent the night better, doctor, breathing better. But he is still coughing a lot and complains of chest pain.

Accessing Omar's chart on your iPad, you pursed your lips as you thought. The boy's body should already be fighting harder against the infection in his lungs, but his history of asthma didn't make you so optimistic in this regard. This was one of those cases that would ask for patience, both from you and from the boy's mother.

— Well, the night has already brought a good sign. However, the cough will still persist for a while, as the body is trying to get this fluid out somehow. For now, let's continue with what was prescribed and I'll ask the physiotherapy team to send someone here to do some exercises to speed up the release of this secretion, okay?

— Doctor, does this mean I'll be able to see Checo?

You blinked, trying to process if you had understood correctly.

— Who?

— Checo, the Formula 1 driver! — Omar exclaimed — He's going to race here this week!

The Miami Grand Prix, you had completely forgotten about that.

— Ah, I see — you smiled — Everything will depend on your progress. If you take your medication correctly and undergo rehabilitation, I can try to release you by Friday. What do you think?

The boy agreed to your proposal, seeming excited about the prospect of seeing his idol race. However, as you left the room, you felt completely dazed, the memories of the previous year filling your eyes with tears.

That was a weekend of ups and downs, with a punishment causing Fernando to lose the measly two points he had managed to gain. However, those days had been worth it just for the opportunity to introduce him to your city and see how he was enchanted by every detail.

— Doctor? Are you okay? — someone asked you. Looking to the side, you found one of the nurses looking at you somewhat confused.

— Yes, everything is fine.

— Did something happen to Omar?

— No, he's progressing well — you replied, trying to compose yourself — I'm going to ask the rehabilitation staff to do a respiratory therapy session to speed up the drainage of fluids.

— Is the medication dosage still the same?

— Yes, everything’s the same — you murmured, before continuing your rounds, trying to ignore the memories that had been awakened during the visit to Omar's room. However, the task became more difficult when a notification with a painfully familiar name appeared on your cell phone during one of your breaks.

Hi, how are you?

Staring at the screen in almost disbelief, you took a few seconds to type a response, trying to balance your emotions in a single line.

Hello, Fernando. I'm fine, thanks for asking.

Are you in Miami?

Yes, why?

I found your sweatshirt in my apartment. I wanted to give you back.

The photo that accompanied the message made something turn in your stomach. That was your favorite sweatshirt, the first one you had bought when you entered university, and at that point, you had already come to terms with the fact that it was lost forever.

Oh, do you want me to go take it back?

No, I can give it to you. Where are you?

I'm still in the hospital, you can leave it at reception.

I want to hand it personally to you. I can stop by your place later, what do you think?

You were already regretting your answer as you walked to the entrance of your studio, feeling suffocated by anxiety. However, when you opened the door, it was as if you had come to the surface to breathe again, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

In front of you was Fernando. He didn't seem to have changed at all since the last time you had seen him, on that fateful night in Abu Dhabi. With a shy smile on his face, he wore a green shirt with the familiar silver wings of Aston Martin, the team he was racing for that year, as well as a white box in his hands.

“This color makes him even more handsome”, you thought to yourself.

— Hi — the driver said softly.

— Hey.

— Can I enter?

— Yeah, sure — you replied, opening the way for him.

The driver passed you silently, taking in the space you were living in. Seeing him there, in the place you had chosen to recover after the mess that had been that Sunday in Abu Dhabi, was strange, not to say wrong. However, this was definitely not the time to question whether his presence there was appropriate or not.

— Everything’s good? — you asked, trying to start a dialogue with him.

— Yeah, all very well. And with you?

— All good.

— It's yours? — he questioned you, gesturing with his finger to refer to the place.

— Yeah, it's mine. I bought it as soon as I got back here — you replied.

Fernando approached a shelf where there were some photos of the trips you had taken with him. There were images from all over the world, from Japan to Brazil, some with your silhouette highlighted or even his. However, he didn't seem to notice that particular detail, as he pointed to another framed image.

— Sardinia?

— Monaco. It's the beach in front of your apartment.

The silence that stretched between you was long, almost deafening. Crossing your arms, you tried to maintain a neutral expression, trying to focus on anything other than the charming lock that fell across his forehead.

— Do you miss it? — Fernando asked.

— Monaco? Not much, I didn't spend enough time there.

— And me?

You looked away to the apartment door, giggling awkwardly.

— I thought you were coming to give me back my hoodie, not do an interrogation.

— Here's your hoodie — he said, harshly, extending the box towards you — And this isn't an interrogation, Y/N. I just asked a question.

— About how I feel about you — you murmured, taking the box and placing it on your dining table.

— Is it wrong to ask?

— When that question doesn't make any sense, yes, it's wrong — you replied, looking over your shoulder.

— Why?

— Because it's wrong, Fernando.

— That's not an answer, Y/N — he replied — Come on, why doesn't it make sense?

Turning at once, anger rose like a hot wave across the back of your neck.

— Because you just discarded me like I was a fucking defective toy.

Fernando looked at you, seriously.

— You know that's not how I see you.

— No? And when you said you didn't have any space in your life for me? Isn't that discarding?

— Y/N — the driver murmured, running a hand through his hair.

— What? — you growled — Is this the way you show that you like me, that you care about me? Saying you don't want me near you?

You didn't have time to react before he advanced towards you, stopping just inches from your face. Fernando was so close to you that you could feel the heat of his skin, as well as the warm and slightly sweet smell of the cologne he was wearing at that moment. It was different from what he normally wore, but it wasn't all bad.

— Would you rather I forbid you from returning? That I stopped you from realizing your dreams? — he returned — Would you prefer if I locked you in a cage or put a collar around your neck to have you all to myself?

The words were stuck in your throat, your bottom lip trembling.

— I know my place in your life, Y/N. And I can't fight it, I can't fight the fact that I can't go further.

— Can't, or don't want to? — you asked in a low voice.

Fernando stared at you for long seconds, as if he was measuring his own words. Bringing your hands up to his face, you stroked the gray speckled beard you loved so much but had never been able to convince him to keep.

— I can't — he murmured, as his thumbs drew circles on his cheek — Y/N, please...

— But you want it — you stated, your eyes going down to his mouth, where his tongue slid to moisten his own lips — You want me.

— Yes, but…

— Then take what you want. Kiss me, touch me, make me what I was from the beginning, from the moment you looked at me for the first time.

The seconds of silence that stretched after your words seemed endless. Bringing your face closer to his, your nose lightly touched Fernando's, almost as a foreshadowing of what was about to happen.

— Make me yours — you whispered.

The moment his lips touched yours was sublime. Your chest filled with a hot, overwhelming sensation, your hands gripping his face tightly. At that moment, you tried to hold on to that feeling of finally being in the place you always imagined yourself in: in Fernando's arms.

It didn't take long for his tongue to invade your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and bringing your body closer, as if he wanted you two to become one. And personally, that was your only desire at that moment, as you slid your lips down his neck.

— You've always been a naughty girl, haven't you? — Fernando asked as soon as you nibbled on his ear, your fingers squeezing your skin — So naughty, so beautiful...

Taking a few steps back, the driver escaped from you momentarily, sitting on the gray sofa you had in the living room. With his hands to your shirt, you didn't need any words from him to rip it off your body, your shorts sliding down your legs soon after. Taking in the sight of you completely naked for the first time, an almost boyish gleam appeared in Fernando's eyes.

— You are much more beautiful than I imagined…

— You mean you imagined me naked? — you questioned with a suggestive smile, while positioning your knees next to his legs, straddling his lap.

— It's hard not to imagine when you wore those indecent little pajamas of yours to bed — he murmured, his hands sliding down your thighs, while you supported yourself on his shoulders — That baby blue one was wonderful.

— Do you want me to put it on?

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

— Now that I've taken off your clothes, I'm not going to ask you to put them back on — Fernando replied, taking his hand to his face and, with a subtle movement, bringing his lips to his in a delicate, almost careful kiss. It was up to you, after a few seconds, to wrap your arms around his neck and ask for passage to explore his mouth the way you wanted.

Sliding his hands down to your butt, the driver made you stand up, bringing his face to one of your breasts. The soft touch of his tongue made you shudder, your fingers digging into his dark curls as a moan escaped his lips.

— I could hear you moaning all night long — Fernando murmured against your skin, his eyes fixed on yours, getting drunk with the pleasure in your expression — Asking, begging for me, the way I always imagined...

It didn't take long for you to start to feel the arousal become uncomfortable, almost painful. You needed more, much more than just kisses and nibbles on your breasts. Lowering your hips just above the not-so-discreet bulge in his shorts, you looked at Fernando, trying to condense what you wanted into a look full of desire.

Without saying anything, he repositioned you a little back, giving him some space to open the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them and your underwear down. The movement allowed his dick to be revealed, hard and particularly large, with the veins standing out along its length. Biting your lower lip, you brought your index finger to one of them, following the path from the base to the tip, feeling Fernando's muscles tense.

— What do you think?

Looking up at him, you smiled.

— Good.

—Wasn't that what you imagined?

— It's hard to say, since every time I imagined your dick, it was in my mouth or my pussy.

Bringing a hand to your face, Fernando caressed your cheek.

— You are very naughty.

You chose not to answer, rising again to align your own entrance with his cock. Then, you lowered yourself, feeling him enter inch by inch, settling inside you. Closing your eyes, you allowed a moan to escape your lips, as did Fernando, who grunted against your neck.

After a few seconds, you started to move, testing angles and rhythms, until you found one that you liked. With your hands resting on his shoulders, you alternated between quick vertical movements, followed by slower, deeper thrusts. At that point, her breasts were completely red, marked by Fernando's teeth and hickeys. Marks that you would carry with pride, because it was his mouth and his passion that had done it.

— You're so beautiful — he growled, as his hands roamed over her skin — How could I have been able to let you go...

You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, searching for Fernando's lips as if they were the surface and you were looking for air to breathe. In that tangle of arms, hands and fingers, you felt complete. Finally complete.

— I'm going to... Oh my God, Fer, I'm going to cum — you whimpered, as you slid your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone. Noticing the agony in your expression, he slid his hand until he reached your most sensitive spot. Then, massaging it, he brought you to orgasm, making you let out a loud moan, your muscles shaking and your head lolling back.

Beneath his body, Fernando took a few seconds before reaching his peak, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan, his hands holding your hips tightly to stop your movement.

The silence inside the room wasn't complete due to your heavy breathing. With your forehead pressed against his, your eyes were closed, absorbing that moment and the entire range of feelings that filled your chest with an inexplicable warmth.

— Y/N — Fernando whispered.

— Yeah?

— What now?

You moved your face slightly away from his, analyzing his furrowed eyebrows and anxiety-filled brown eyes. You knew it was impossible to turn around or simply pretend it hadn't happened, especially when you were sure you wanted to do it several more times. But did he want that?

— Well, we have two ways — you started, brushing his bangs away from his forehead — We can classify this as an accident on the road and go back to our lives...

— No, definitely not.

— Or we can stop fooling ourselves and actually live this.

— This? — he raised an eyebrow.

— This. Our relationship — you tried to classify it.

— And by truly living, you mean…

— Without pretending that we don’t have feelings for eachother.

Fernando pressed his lips together, looking away from yours. He was definitely hesitant about taking that step. And you were sure you wouldn't let him leave you there, with that doubt hanging over you.

— Do you want me to come back with you to Europe? — you asked softly, making him look at you again.

— Would you come back?

— If you wanted.

The driver let out a heavy sigh.

— I don't want to ask you this, Y/N.

— Why not?

— Because I don't want you to give up everything for me and my career.

— You talk as if this is the only place in the world where there are hospitals accepting residents — you countered, placing your hands on his cheeks — I'll find a way, Fer. We'll find a way. But I ask you just one thing.

— What?

— Don't leave me here, alone.

Fernando smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

— Never, guapa.

#fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #nordswrites #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #fa #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula one fanfic

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sarahs-secrets2 · 1 year

Text

She (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

MINORS DNI 18+

based on She by Harry Styles

fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, daddy vibes? , phillip is cheating on his wife with reader, pet names, reader is homewrecker (sorry)

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Phillip sat in his big office staring out the panoramic windows. His head buzzed as he twisted the wedding ring around his finger. The office chair squeaked as he leaned back in it, images of you tangled up in his sheets clouded his train of thought. The red lacy lingerie was permanently ingrained into his memory. From the way it hugged your figure, to how it felt to tear it off. He fully slipped the gold band off, heavily examining it. The knock at the door pulled Phillip back down from his daydreams as he quickly slipped the wedding ring back onto his finger.

“Come in,” he coughed, adjusting in the creaky chair trying to look as normal as possible. His secretary stepped in cautiously as she clutched her notepad.

“You have a call on line 3 sir, they said it was important,”

Phillip leaned back in the chair as he rubbed his temple, he had a feeling of who it could be. “Yeah, I know who it is, thanks,” he pulled himself forward from the worn leather chair before stopping his secretary just as she was about to leave, “Mind grabbin’ me a coffee doll? ‘Preciate it,” he thanked her before even getting an answer and winked as she scurried off to get him his coffee.

A heavy exhale escaped Phillip’s lips as he picked up the phone.

“Phillip,” your voice flowed through the speaker held closely to Graves’ ear.

“Darlin’, whaddya doin’ callin’ me here? I thought we agreed on no calls at work?”

“I just couldn't help it,” you paused waiting to see what he would say but he was silent, “Don't be mad,”

Graves could almost feel your pouting through the phone. His thoughts trailed off as your voice became background noise. All he could think of was how pretty you probably looked right now, lying back on a bed while you talked to him. He hoped your hand was finding its way down between your thighs just to get off on his voice. He hoped you were in lingerie or even better the shirt he had “accidentally” left at your place last night. His dick was throbbing in his pants pushing against the seams at the idea.

“Are you there?”

You heard him clear his throat, “Why’d you call?”

“I missed your voice,”

“That so doll?”

“Mhm,” you hummed out, “When can I see you again?”

“Oh hell, I’m not sure,” It was silent as he thought, “I don’t want anyone gettin’ suspicious of me now, I’ll let you know when we can meet again, that sound alright?”

His voice was low as he spoke, sending a chill down your spine. You need him just as badly as he needed you. “That sounds perfect,” you spoke slowly, “I’ll see you soon sir,”

“Talk soon darlin’,” the phone clicked, ending the call.

Graves dropped the phone back on the receiver before dropping his head in his hands. The timing couldn't be more perfect as his secretary knocked before marching in with the coffee, “Here you go sir,” she quickly set the cup down before scurrying out of the office. He spit out a quick ‘thanks’ before refreshing his computer in an attempt to actually get work done today.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

Graves hopped out of his car and unlocked the front door. As quietly as he tried to sneak in, his wife still was able to hear the faint sound of the door shutting.

“Phillip? Is that you?” she wiped her hands on her apron and peeked around the corner, “Dinner will be ready soon honey,” she smiled sweetly as she went back to the kitchen.

“Thanks, I’ll be right there,” he shouted down the hall as he trudged up the stairs with his briefcase. Once he reached his bedroom he tossed the bag on the floor and flopped down on the foot of the bed.

One hand loosened the tie around his neck while the other scrolled through his texts searching for your name. Fully removing his tie now, he typed out a message hoping you would answer before he had to go eat the meal his wife just cooked.

Need to see you tonight

He stroked his jaw as he waited for a response, finally a text bubble appeared.

Same spot as usual?

Phillip Graves liked your message

“Phillip come eat,” the voice from downstairs almost made him jump as he quickly deleted the text convo and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Comin’,”

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

“I’m comin’,” his breath hitched as he continued to rut into you, his pace quickened as he felt you clench around him. “Fuckkk,”

“Oh my god Phillip,” a wave of ecstasy flooded over you as Graves pushed through both of your highs. He pulled out rolling over next to you in a wave of exhaustion, both of you panting heavily trying to catch your breaths.

A couple of minutes passed before you finally spoke up, “I’m glad you texted me,” you shuffled in the bed as you turned to face him, propping yourself up with your elbow.

Graves was laying on his back staring at the ceiling, his hands tucked behind his head. “M’glad too,”

“You’re not scared of getting caught, are you?

He extended one of his arms, wrapping it around your shoulder and pulling you closer to lay on his bare chest. “I don't want to think about that right now doll,” his voice was hushed as he closed his eyes, he gave your shoulder a small squeeze as you could feel yourself drifting off laying on his chest.

Morning came fast. The sun broke through the hotel curtains, as you woke up you rolled over in bed looking for Phillip.

Gone.

Typical, especially considering your relationship. He never was there in the morning, he had a wife and kids at home. You reached over to the nightstand to grab your phone and began skimming through your texts.

Had to head out sorry, gift for you on the counter. Wear it next time I see you.

You swung your feet off the bed and walked over to the counter finding the Victoria's Secret bag. Tossing the tissue on the floor you pulled out a scarlet red lingerie set, he always liked you in red. You smiled to yourself as you sauntered into the bathroom to try it on, making sure to grab your phone… just in case.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

“Have a good day guys,” Phillip shouted out the window as his kids ran into the school. Just as he was about to pull away his phone dinged.

Thanks for the gift x

Hope you’re able to see it in person soon: Attachment 1 img.

His head fell back as he stared at the photo on his phone. It was only 9 in the morning and he was itching to see you again. Graves tried to think of a way to respond but couldn't, he was too dizzy from the feeling of all the blood rushing to his dick.

Taking a big swig of coffee he headed to his office hoping that the work that awaited him would somehow be able to distract him from you. Little did he know that you now lived in his daydreams and it would only get stronger from here.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

did you guys see how i made it loop hehe

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #philip graves x reader #philip graves #phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #phillip graves imagine #phillip graves x you #cod graves #graves x reader #graves mw2 #graves cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #Spotify

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 5 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I give you this for being so patient with me when it comes to all the links <;3.

Warnings: Dom Steddie and sub reader and all that that implies ( I regret nothing!) Degrading, spanking with a belt, overstimulation. Eddie briefly talks about his family and his mom leaving. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3453

The boys left a little while after you called your parents to go get your car and grab some much needed essentials. It felt odd being in someone else’s room by yourself especially Eddie’s so you couldn’t help taking a deeper look around.

You grinned at some photos you found by his bed with him and some of the other kids at school wearing the Hellfire t-shirt you saw on him a couple of times. Another had three of the same boys from Hellfire including Eddie holding instruments in their hands. “Corroded Coffin-1983” was scrawled across the bottom. The next photo made you pause as you really took a look at the people within the frame.

It was a bright sunny day in the background but everyone in the image looked uncomfortable. “Munson Family Gathering- Mom, Dad, Me, and Uncle Wayne- 1975”. Eddie’s mother was stiff as his father wrapped his arm behind her back to bring her closer. The boy himself glared forward with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned closer to Wayne than his parents. He appeared angry but his eyes seemed so sad; it broke your heart. His uncle seemed much softer than the other Munson’s in the photo, displaying a soft smile with his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

You haphazardly placed the photos back down as you continued to look around. There were notebooks everywhere, some had notes for school and others had lyrics scribbled through them. Browsing through his cassette tapes, you smiled at his collection. Placing his headphones over your head, you pressed play on his stereo and “Shame on the Night” by Dio blared through. Your smile grew as your fingers reached up to gently run over his guitar that hung on his mirror.

“Fuck me!” You jump when you notice Eddie’s reflection. “You scared me.”

“I can imagine. Naughty girl, going through my stuff.” He places the bags he had in his hands on his bed as he saunters towards you.

“I was listening to your music.”

He gently removed the headphones from around your neck and pulled out their cord allowing the music to play through his room. “You like Dio?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen them in concert though…or anyone really. I’d like to.”

Eddie nods as he takes your hand and guides you towards the mattress, reaching into the plastic bag, and handing you a Styrofoam plate full of food.

“I guessed. I’m not sure what you like.”

You beam at him when you open the container to find Chinese food from a restaurant you enjoy in town. “Oh, I love this! Thank you. Should, um, should we wait for Steve?”

“You can but I’m starving. Pretty boy takes forever to complete any task.” As you both begin to eat, he notices your eyes fleeting to him every now and then before looking back down at your lap. “Got something on your mind, sweetheart? Maybe something you found while exploring.”

Placing your meal to the side, you rise to your feet, grabbing the picture of his family and placing it in front of him on the bed. His jaw tightens as he looks at the image before glancing at you.

“Yeah…that’s my family.”

“May I ask, where they are?”

“Well, I am right here.”, he chuckles sarcastically. “And this is Wayne’s trailer but he’s at work. He works overnights.”

“So, you’re alone a lot to? Like Steve…” Eddie cracks open the can of beer by his side, chugging half of it before placing it back down on the ground. “Where…where’s your mom?”

“Good question. When you find that out maybe you can let me know, hm?” You could feel the agitation radiating off his frame. A sudden knock on the door startled you but not him. “God damn it, Steve, IT’S OPEN!”

“Geez, why are you fucking grumpy all of the sudden?”, Steve whined as he strode in and climbed into the bed. “Is one of these for me?”

“Uh, no Harrington. I got Y/N and I a meal individually and then just got one more for kicks.”

The man’s eyes scanned over his friend with concern. “Did I miss something?”

Eddie exhaled frustratingly as he picked at his plate.

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re always fucking sorry. If you’re so sorry than stop pushing and stop fucking up.”

“Fucking up?”, you growled. “How did I fuck up?!”

Both their eyes met yours with anger but you were more than prepared. With everything that happened with Carol and Tommy and just being confused about this whole situation between the three of you in general, you were ready to fight.

“Are we still in ‘Vanilla’ or does little girl feel ready to play again?”, Eddie asked with an edge to his tone that had you swallow nervously.

“I’m ready. I haven’t done anything wrong to either of you.”

“You threw a basketball at our heads during your practice.”, Steve chimes in as he starts counting on his fingers. “You insulted me, invited yourself to my house, and then went through my dad’s office.”

“Ah, so nosey isn’t new for you. She just poked around my room while we were gone.”

“Not to mention that you fucking give us attitude all the time and talk back constantly. Makes me miss the meek version of you.”

“Oh, so what do you both want? Just a quiet little mouse who doesn’t challenge you at all?!” You voice raised as you got more irritated.

“We want you to submit and I was under the impression that’s what you wanted to. Submissive girls aren’t fucking brats.” Eddie chugged back the last of his beer before throwing the can across the room.

“Well, that sounds boring.”, you pout as you fold your arms over your chest.

The metalhead cackles as he glances at Steve who smiles at him as he shrugs. “Harrington, would you mind clearing the bed for me?” The man nods, rising to accomplish his friends request while Eddie reaches for something in the corner of his room.

“Ever use these, sweetheart?” When he flashes you a pair of metal handcuffs, you shake your head no. “WORDS!”, he chuckles as you jump. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“N-no. I haven’t.”

Eddie sighed turning towards Steve. “I thought you said she was starting to answer properly.”

“She was, at least with me.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m too boring.” This time you sighed, rolling your eyes. Ringed fingers abruptly gripped your cheeks, turning you to look at him. “Roll your eyes like that again and I’m going to spank you with my belt. I don’t care what kind of fucking day you’ve had. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, Eddie. I understand.”

He pushes your head back as he releases his hold on you. “Now, have you ever used these?”

“No, Eddie. I’ve never used handcuffs.”

“Hm. That’s shame. Let’s see if these fit around your wrists here. Hold yours out for me.”

You do as he asks, wincing when he tries to click one of them closed. “Ow. It’s too tight.”

Your eyes scan his face as a glimmer of concern flashes through his features as he removes them before tossing them on the floor close to where they had been hanging. His thumbs rub against the imprinted skin and in an equally tender action you lean your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“Baby, out of all the things you should be apologizing for, your body isn’t one of them. I’ll just have to find some bigger, more comfortable ones. Steven! Will you be my handcuffs for the time being?”

“My pleasure.”

“Stand, please.” You rise to your feet and Eddie hastily removes the rest of your clothes till you’re naked before him. His fingers trace along some light bruising on the inside of your thigh; looking up at you quizzically.

“Steve.”, you smile as you point to another set of marks near your waist. “You. You both hold me tightly when you fuck me. Even if I’m not…struggling. It’s okay though… I don’t mind.”

“So fucking fascinating. I swear.”, Steve mused as he climbed onto the mattress behind you.

Eddie gestured with his chin for you to lay down as well and as soon as you complied, the other boy reached for your wrists, holding them both above your head with his hand. The metalhead removed his shirt and placed himself on the bed between your legs.

A tiny moan left your lips as he ran his tongue through your folds, holding you open with his fingers. “Such a beautiful pussy, Y/N.”

As his lips wrapped around your clit, you tried to bring your hands down to play his hair but Steve’s grip on you tightened. “Please…”, you beg. “I…I want to touch him.”

His only response was to shake his head as his eyes intently watched your face. You whined; your head falling back against the pillow as you squirmed under both their holds. Eddie’s tongue flicked rapidly against your nub, his face pressing deeper into you as if he was a man on a mission.

Your back lifted off the bed as you tumbled over the edge. When his head didn’t move, you didn’t think anything of it. Eddie had done this before; licking you continuously until you came again. The panic didn’t set in until after your third orgasm on his tongue as he remained between your legs.

“Oh, he can stay down there for hours…”

“E-E-Eddie…please…”, you stuttered. The man replaced his tongue with two of his fingers as he thrust them inside of your dripping sex.

“Yeah, princess? Please, what?” You couldn’t respond, feeling yourself hurtling quickly towards another climax. “I mean, from what I’m hearing it sounds like you’re enjoying yourself. Which is good! Definitely don’t want to be boring.”

Your eyes met his mischievous ones as your legs shook and you came again.

“Do you want a turn, Harrington? Probably a good idea to switch it up so none of us get to bored.”

Your eyes rolled as you growled in frustration. Eddie was on you so fast that you squeaked in surprise when his fingers wrapped around your throat and he lowered his face till his nose was touching yours.

“What did I say? What did I say would happen if you rolled your eyes like that again?!” He glanced at Steve. “Do you want to punish her?”

“I don’t mind. Can I borrow your belt?” You watch him lean back on his knees above you, unbuckle his belt, and slide it off in one go around his forearm. Eddie grins cheekily down at you as a pleasure filled sigh escaped you at the sight.

In one fluid motion he flipped you onto your belly and grabbed your wrists to hold them once again above your head. Silence filled the room as you waited. They had been rough with you and spanked you in the past but this was new. Nerves filled your stomach as you anticipated the pain that may follow.

When the first smack of leather hit your skin, you cried out; the abrupt sting taking your breath away. Eddie’s giggle hit your ears.

“You doing okay, Steve? You look like you’re about to cum in your pants. Well, my pants.”

“F-fuck, Munson. Her body is like my fucking kryptonite.” They watch you as the belt comes down on your ass again. “Just so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah…to bad her mouth and attitude are trash.” His head turns at the sound of your tiny sniffles. “Aw, am I hurting your feelings?”, Eddie asked mockingly.

“I-I-I’m not trash.”

“Did I say that?” You flinched as Steve hit you again. “No. I said your attitude and mouth are garbage. Talking back, rolling your eyes, going through our things. Why? Why are you acting like that?”

“I want…to…know more.”

*SMACK*

“I d-d-don’t know…you.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours as the belt comes down one final time and a mix of a scream and a moan emits from your throat. The belt clanks to the floor as the bed dips behind and you feel Steve’s lips trace along the red marks on your ass.

You murmur something into the pillow that the metalhead can’t make out. His fingers push your hair out of your face as the other boy climbs up the length of your body, laying his chest against your back.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. I need to be able to hear you clearly.”

“I said…why…why me?”

Steve reaches between your bodies, opening your legs slightly before sliding his throbbing cock into your entrance. The mixture of the pain on your behind, the many orgasms Eddie gave you, and the man’s sheer size had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a way they allowed.

“Yes, fuck, baby. Such a good girl.”

“Why you what?”, Eddie asked.

“Steve, you’re so…deep. Mmm-fuck.”

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Why…did…did you choose…me?”

Steve nibbled and sucked on the side of your shoulder that Carol hadn’t hurt as he thrust into you harder. “Why wouldn’t we? You—mmm— I don’t…I can’t explain it. Ed?”

Your eyes found his and were surprised by the darkness within them. “I thought you wanted to be used, Y/N? You said you had never been fucked properly, we gave you that. We give you what you fucking ask for.”

Your vision is blinded by white as you cum hard, shaking underneath their hold on you. Steve grunts as your pussy clings to him, chasing his own high until you feel him warm your insides.

He groans as he rolls off you and Eddie reaches over to bring you closer to him, flipping you onto your back.

“Eddie?”, you whine as you turn on to your side to face him. A little whine of his own dripped from his lips when your forehead fell on his as your hand rested on his hips and slid slowly over his skin. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have gone through your things or Steve’s. You said I fascinated you both. I feel the same.”

Your lips capture his as you lift your leg over his waist. The boy doesn’t miss a beat, his palm gliding to the back of your thigh to raise it higher as he scoots closer to you.

“I know I’m yours. I just want to know more about the people I belong to.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as his cock entered your sex. His thrusts were slow at first, dragging his length along your tight walls as your pussy stretched around him.

“Princess, this is why we pursued you. You’re so fucking sweet but—fuck—have this other side that’s feisty. I knew it the first time I saw you; Steve and I both. We knew—mmm—we had to have you.”

You whimpered at his words as he pumped into you faster, hitting every sensitive spot inside you.

“And now we do, baby. You and your pussy belong to us. Say it, Y/N.”

“I belong to you.”, you responded in strained words.

His palm came down on your ass, reigniting the stinging pain as you groaned. “You’re not listening, stupid girl. Say it correctly!”

“Fuck, Eddie! Me and my pussy belong—mmm—belong to you.”

“Me and who?”

“You and Steve.”

“That’s right.” Eddie’s palm floated to the back of your head, his other pressing into your lower back as he held you tightly to him, pounding into you roughly. “That’s right, Y/N. Good girl. This tight cunt is ours and only we can make you feel this fucking good. Fuck, baby. Cum for me.”

Tears streaked your cheeks as you screamed into his shoulder, tumbling over the ledge. With a few more sloppy hard thrusts, he followed after you, aggressively pumping his spend deeper into you.

His breath warmed your shoulder as he panted into your skin, hands still clinging tightly to you.

“Harrington, my shower…at most only fits two. Since I used yours last…last time…”

Steve nodded as his fingers reached for you, prying you from Eddie’s hold. With heavy eyes, you watched as he got the shower ready and held out his hand to guide you in. The metalhead was right, his shower was relatively small and felt even tinier as the curves of your body took up a good amount of space. The man in front of you saw the trepidation as your guilty eyes looked around wondering if he had enough room for himself.

“Honey, stop thinking.” Steve placed his palms on either side of your head, tilting it towards his lips. “You’re fine. I’m fine. To be fair, I don’t know how Eddie fucking fits in here let alone his uncle. Have you seen Wayne?”

You smile, shaking your head as his eyes widen and he stretches out his arms. “He’s a tall guy. Probably has to sit to get his entire body.”

He grins as you laugh, reaching behind you to grab the soap and begins the task before him. You wince slightly when his hand grazes the fresh welts forming on your behind and on impulse your arms shoot out to wrap around his waist like a child needing comfort after they fall.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re ok.”, he soothed. “Did, um… was that okay? I know you went through a lot today so…I tried not to hit you too hard. If you didn’t like it, I can tell Eddie.”

“I liked it. Is that weird?”

“No, pretty girl. It’s not weird. Kinky but…” Your body shakes against him as you laugh and he smiles as he leans down to kiss your lips.

After cleaning you and drying you off, he guides you back to the bedroom where Eddie had laid out the first aid supplies Steve had bought after getting your car. You flinched as he began utilizing the antiseptic on your shoulder.

“Hey, your food got a little cold so I heated it up.” The metalhead places your plate on the bedside table with a fresh glass of water before coming to sit beside you as Steve opens the bandages and begins covering the wound.

Eddie glances at the floor, bending down to grab the picture of his family. He flashed you a slanted smile as he held it up for emphasis.

“My mom left a little while after this photo was taken. My dad scoured the entire town looking for her but nothing came up. A week after, my uncle got a letter from her saying she needed to get out of the house and away from my father. Said that she would send word when she was ready to come get me.” You tenderly reach out to move his hair out of the way so you can see his face. “I guess she’s still not ready.”

“Eddie, baby, I’m so sorry.” He shrugs before you are suddenly blind sided by darkness. “Ah! What the hell?”

You grin as you feel fingers tug at the fabric over your head, pulling the shirt Steve threw on you further down your frame. “Up, please.” His eyes focus on your legs as he holds out a pair of boxers for you to step into.

“I thought you preferred me naked?”

Eddie smiles as he leans over you to grab your plate before handing it to you. “We do but not right now. You need to be comfortable while you finish eating. Plus… you’re kinda sexy like this to.”

“Just kinda?”, you ask him sarcastically.

His smile grows as he leans over to capture your lips with his own before playfully pushing at your face with his hand.

“Now, I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight. I don’t have Carrie but I do have…” He bends down looking over his collection before pulling out a VHS of Evil Dead.

“I don’t know what that is.” Steve sits in bed beside you slurping at the contents in front of him.

The metalhead head raises his eyebrows inquisitively in your direction. “I know what it is. I’ve just never seen it. I heard it was really gross.”

“Yeah, it is.” He chuckles with giddy excitement you’ve rarely gotten to see from him as he pops the film into the VCR and places himself on the floor in front of you where one of your legs was dangling off the side.

Eddie’s arm wraps around your calf, lifting it so it’s more over his shoulder as his fingers caress your skin.

“Munson, do we have to watch something gross while we eat?”, Steve whines.

“Yes, Harrington. We do.”

Your laugh brightens the room as Eddie reaches for his remote and presses play.

##############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch @chelebelletx

@shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis @wroteclassicaly

@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

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blackashbluephoenix · 6 months

Text

Had this idea but it doesn't fit into either of my WIPs so I'm giving it to the community.

Harvey and Mike are driving. They're bantering lightly, Mike had a case file in his lap. There's light music on in the background. Mike feels safe in the front seat- he always does when Harvey's driving. Anyone else, he fidgits nervously, squirms. The longer the ride, the worse it gets. But Harvey has both hands on the wheel, hovers a mile or two under the speed limit. He focuses on the road. Mike knows he'd never let anything happen to him.

They drive up past an accident with all the stops- flashing lights, police sirens, an ambulance. The car is on fire, there are bodies being pulled from the wreck.

Before they can get close enough to see any details though, Harvey reaches over and turns Mike's face to him. They've slowed to a crawl now because of traffic passing the accident, there's no danger in taking one hand off the wheel.

"Look at me, sweetheart." He orders softly. "Just keep looking at me."

Harvey doesn't try to restart the banter. He doesn't try to smile or pretend it's not bad. But he can put on a poker face for Mike's sake. He can look stoic, in control. He can breathe normally. He can use the word sweetheart, a word he normally only whispers to him in moments when they are alone and at their most intimate.

"Just look at me, sweetheart."

Because one real glimpse of that accident and that image will be burned permanently into Mike's beautiful mind. Having a memory like his is both a blessing and a curse, as Harvey has come to find out. And right now, if he lets Mike look at that, if he allows that image into Mike's mind... It will torment him. It will creep into thoughts when they're at work, at home. It will etch itself into his nightmares, add itself to what Mike imagines his parents' last moments were like. He won't be able to comfortably get into a car for weeks, will worry when Harvey steps foot in one, even if they're both in the backseat and Ray is the one driving.

"Just keep looking at me. Don't think about anything else."

He pulls the car into a lane away from the accident as soon as he can, creating some distance and removing some of the morbid temptation to look as he does so. Mike's not the eager to please puppy he once was, but he obeys this particular order even after Harvey drops his hand. He nods, ducks his head slightly. He can't quite look at Harvey's eyes, but he can still focus on the rest of him. As long as he's looking at Harvey, his mind is protected from whatever else he might see right now.

They're both quiet when the traffic lets up. Harvey puts both hands back on the wheel. Drops his speed limit down to five miles below, moves to the slow lane. Tries to ignore the way Mike is white knuckling the armrest or the way he wants to take his hand. Touch would help right now, certainly, but not if it compromises his driving abilities.

They pull into a gas station about an hour from the city. Harvey wouldn't have stopped- he wants to take Mike straight home- but the gas light is on. When he puts the car in park, Mike takes a long deep breath as though he's been holding onto it for far too long.

"We'll be home soon." Harvey says softly. He reaches over, brushes his fingers over the back of Mike's neck. Relishes in the way Mike instantly leans into him, even if the angle is awkward because of the console between them.

"Thank you." Mike says quietly. He seems a little better now. Okay until Harvey can get him home at least. He can spoil him when they're there- Order a pizza with stuffed crust, crack open one of those cheap beers Mike likes for some reason. Maybe tuck him into one of Harvey's hoodies before he pulls Mike down onto to his chest and they settle in on the couch with a wide selection of movies. He'll hold him a little bit tighter and speak just a little softer. Maybe it will be enough to keep the nightmares away.

For now he just kisses Mike's hand, then his temple before he gets out to pump gas. Smiles in relief when Mike eventually gets out and wanders into the gas station, returning with a highly disproportionate amount of junk food to the time they have left on this trip.

He'll be okay. Harvey will make sure of it.

#marvey #mike x harvey #Un'beta'd #I'm definitely doing that thing I do where I switch tenses #but that's okay because it's more a prompt to make ya'll feel things #angst with a happy ending #because according my editor I live for that shit

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undercoverpena · 1 year

Text

rainy world, blanket days

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: “Yourewet.” It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.”

wordcount: 1.8k an: written for anon, with a huge thanks and dedication to @thelightsandtheroses who let me ramble a lot to her, without complaint. and sorta told me i could do this, even when i didn't think i could. warnings: none. just sweet!frankie, soft vibes, nice ending (real cute, tbf)

When it rains, it pours.

A sentiment he knows all too well with how his day has been going.

You and your grand ideas, where simple DIY soon gets out of hand: first, a photo frame, then the guest sink, and now he’s retrieving shelving because you need more space for your books.

Frankie doesn’t mind. Not really.

He likes being busy—likes making you smile and how it always hits your eyes and coats him in a warmth that no winter can ever take from him.

When he'd left, there had been sunshine. By the time he pulls into the car park, the clouds have grown grey and heavy, fingers tugging to pull his collar around his neck to fend off the wind. Hat tugged down, hiding, as he saunters around aisle after aisle, an image in mind of what he wants—what he needs.

He clambers it all together. Some under his arm, some lodged against his chest, hugged there by his arm. Somewhat wishing he hadn’t been so quick to turn down a bag. All to step out of the automatic doors and be met with a downpour.

The kind that soaks everything it touches and makes the air smell of petrichor, all fresh earth and mire. A scent which could so easily take him back to jungles and covert missions if not for the way he gripped the wood until splinters threatened to dig into his hands.

He’s been better recently—more rooted. Finding himself less troubled and minus the haunting of ghosts.

But, sometimes, they hang in the background. The memories that become nightmares, waiting for a weaker moment to suffocate him.

You fend them off—doing so without trying.

You and the smile he thinks of as he throws everything in the truck, slamming the driver door behind him as droplets fall down his neck, sliding from the ends of his curls to run down and settle on his collarbone.

Palm across his forehead, wiping the beads from his brow as he removes his hat—the one soaked to the bone. He knows it’ll take hours to dry, trying to hang it off the passenger headrest as he wrestles with how naked he feels without it.

You like it off.

Often whispering it to him, having done so the other night when you were straddling his lap, pushing it back, taking it in your fingers before placing it backwards on your head.

“Do I suit it, Frankie? Your hat.”

He wished he’d taken a photo, made it his background.

You in his oversized shirt, a pair of boxers turned shorts, and his hat on your pretty little head. The thought alone sparks warmth through his chest, suddenly turning the key more eager, more determined.

Desperate.

That’s what he was: desperate. To see you, get home to you.

The work-in-progress which changes month by month before their eyes as vision and his handiwork being it to life.

He likes working on it, your two's home. But sometimes, in weather like this, he wishes for blankets and candles, no lights—just the flicker of a movie he’ll pretend to watch for the first act before he silently studies you.

Or music, soft, lulling music that floats around the walls. The occasional raps of the branches from the tree on the window, the one you refuse to have Frankie cut down.

He craves one today, never really being one for lazy days, but now it’s those days he loves the most with you. The ones which are easy, a gift. They come along infrequently, but when they do, he tries to clutch on to them too tightly—in the same way, he likes to have you close.

Whether it’s bare legs thrown over his thighs, fluffy socks twitching under the blanket, or you slotted against his side, hand playing with his fingers as his lips twitch into a smile periodically.

It’s those memories, that wish, that carries him home. The car windows steam up under the clamminess of his skin, the radio humming songs he barely listens to when he finally swings his truck on the drive. Forgetting the items beside him, including his hat, as he steps out, not even doubling back when he presses the key to lock it—just desperate to get inside, and when he does…

It’s all he’s been wishing for and more.

The scent of a burning wick hits him first, followed by hot cocoa. Shutting the front door, locking it—and keeping the world out—he slides his feet from his boots, leaving them in a state on the mat. Then he begins his hunt for you, fingers brushing down doorways, leaning into the kitchen, and then the living room.

Frankie frowns as his fingers scratch at his damp hair. Something akin to worry begins to needle at his chest, making his heart stammer—rattling in his chest.

His next stop, the only one truly left, catches his eye as droplets fall from his jacket, painting the wooden floor in dots from the outside. The door, all half-open and ajar, as it had been this morning when he’d followed you out of it, sleep clinging to his lashes as you excitedly talked about decor and needing his help.

Now, he worries he didn’t lock the door. That something had happened. Not even remembering the last time he checked his phone or—

You collide into him suddenly, all quickly.

In a way that forces all of the pieces of him to slot back together, making the worry dissipate. Your grin growing at the sight of him, hitting your eyes as you begin to beam as though he’s your sun and not just a man you met one day and never got rid of.

He thinks of speaking, whispering a hi and then pulling you close, but he gets tangled up—thoughts balling and knotting in his head at the sight of you.

You look so comfortable and relaxed, your face clean and free of anything—one of his tees adorning your frame, hiding your curves from him.

There’s something about seeing you undone that he'll never grow used to. How at ease around him you are, have been since early days. It’s almost his favourite sight, taking it over summer dresses and painted lips—almost.

Frankie’s favourite has more to do with when your lips are parted, thighs on either side of him—pupils blown, skin warm, sweat pebbling on your hairline and collarbones. You make the prettiest noises then, too—an array of Francisco’s and Frankie’s pecking the air.

Your eyes are narrowing, confusion mounting at his stare and empty hands. He knows you—about as well as you know him.

Frankie knows that you’re beginning to worry with how your brow slides up your forehead, that concern-laced words will fall from your tongue as your mouth starts to part. But he moves, pounces, rids the air of comments that aren’t please and more.

Slanting his lips over yours, he steals your thoughts. Intentionally, his tongue licks into your mouth to wipe up the remainder of any words that had been forming. It’s only as he nips at your bottom lip, tasting the whimper you let him have, is he aware of your arms coming around his neck, feels fingers scrape against his hair, his scalp—

“Yourewet.”

It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.”

Frankie slides his fingers across your cheek, keeping you close, letting him take his time to kiss you, enjoy you. His other hand is busy sliding up your frame—fingers brushing the overwashed, seen-better-days t-shirt of his that you love—all to find purpose on your hip. Wishing to grip it, his thumb digging ever so lightly—not enough to bruise, although he could (enjoys doing so, too), but enough to inform you what he wants.

You. Always you.

Rainy days and sunny ones. The difficult ones and the easy ones.

“Frankie…”

He kisses the side of your mouth, humming—indicative that he’s heard you.

“I’ve got the blankets out. Queued a movie and—“

“Lit the candles,” he finishes, one last kiss to your jaw before he retracts, letting you go to look you up and down as he folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe.

The silence allows the sound of rain hammering against the window panes to find his ears—doing so to a beat similar to how his heart thumps at the sight of you. The way it has done since he woke up one morning and couldn’t get the thought from his mind:

I want to marry you.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks, months.

Moments adding to other ones, collecting them like stamps. Letting them layer and layer—

You drag him from his thoughts, shifting on the balls of your feet, an unreadable expression flushing out the one he’d put there a moment ago. “Is that… okay?”

He nods, slow at first before a grin accompanies it. You pull it from him easily, and do so all the time—a thing the others have noticed.

“All I was thinking about at the hardware store.”

“You were thinking about a blanket day?”

His lip twitches. “Thinking about you under a blanket, yeah.”

You try to hold it back, but you smirk. Eyes latched on him as he shrugs his jacket off, your hand gesturing to take it from him, pulling it close to you.

“I’ll let you pick the movie,” you say, moving past him, holding his eye line as your hand brushes his chest, taking his jacket with you. “And I’ll hang this up to dry.”

He smirks knowingly.

Because you only let him choose when you have no intention of watching it.

“I’ma just change,” he calls out, heading into the bedroom—passing the mirror, the wardrobe. Shifting around the end of the bed as he hovers near the bedside table.

Letting his fingers find the handle, he pulls on the top drawer, glancing at the door. Nervousness prickles, mixes with the drizzle sliding down his spine, as he opens it, peering in.

At first, he sees nothing, and then just the corner of it.

Just how he left it, smothered in clean, holey socks and receipts—the blue box which stares up at him. All 4.7 x 3.9 of it.

The one which had been heavy in his pocket the day he picked it up to bring it home. How it began burning a hole in his jacket until he hid it, stuffing it in the back of the nook for the right day.

Today though, he lets his fingers pull it out from the corner it’s been trapped in. Feeling how light it actually is, for the weight it has on his shoulders.

“Frankie, y'coming?”

He smiles, both at the box in his fingers and your impatience. Nudging the drawer shut with his knuckle, a scar catching his sight—one you always stroke, never asking, yet reading the story behind it with each touch.

He calls back that he’ll be a minute, placing the box on the bed, opening other drawers and slamming them shut once he'd found sweats and a fresh tee. Dressing, he feels the warmth slide up his neck, reaching his ears as his pulse thunders.

Having decided today will be the day the ring finds a new home—hopefully, one on your finger.

an: hope this was fluffy enough, anon.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales

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glorianamultistan · 2 years

Text

Kim Jongin x Male Reader

Summary:- Y/n (omega) got married to Jongin (Alpha) who has a one-year-old son. The carrier parent of Subin passed away two months right after the birth while being comatose. It was becoming harder for Jongin, the CEO of a successful entertainment company and a renowned artist himself, to handle the infant with nannies so this marriage was arranged by his mother, like his last one, who wanted to take care of her son and wanted him happy.

Content :- omegaverse, domestic, a little heat at the end.

I don't own the pic

Part 1

Y/n was not ready for everything that just got forced upon him, but throughout his life, he was made to realise the importance of being a good and supportive partner to his Alpha, and so when he was married to a guy whom he just saw from afar once in real life, in a party organised by his own parents, he just had to follow simple instructions given to him by his mother and then by his partner.

It was an arrangement to benefit both parties. The widower Alpha will get someone to take care of his child and the young omega will get a partner who holds a strong social position. Not only this, the Alpha had an image of impeccable behavior and there was never a question of him being disrespectful to any person without a very valid reason.

It was decided that the marriage will be a mere legal agreement ceremony in a courtroom because it has not been a year still of the death of Alpha's last partner. This was a good thing in y/n opinion too as he was not ready to face a crowd and be the center of attention.

After the whole process was done, a ritualistic picture was taken and y/n was led by Jongin to the car waiting for them outside the court.

The car ride to the house was comfortably quiet for y/n. Jongin was constantly on his tab looking over documents and when they reached the house he got out first to help the omega get out from the other side. It was a decently big house, more like a mansion but it was built in a way that could be described best with the words 'subtle magnificence'.

When Jongin led y/n inside the younger was surprised by the interior, though he came from a privileged background himself, he never imagined a place could look so modern yet regal at the same time. "I hope you will be comfortable here, I got all the old portraits removed and we will get our done soon." Jongin was saying all of this while looking directly at y/n's face while y/n had his eyes down, he was clearly not comfortable with the Alpha as of now.

"Do you want to meet Subin?" Y/n looked up at Jongin's face and saw a light smile after the Alpha asked him the question. "Can I?", y/n whispered. "Yes, you are supposed to help me with him, so, let's meet him, he should be up, it is still one only." "Okay."

Again Jongin went ahead and led them to the nursery on the first floor, it was the most beautiful baby's room y/n ever saw, and Subin was in the crib while a person was cleaning the room. "Good afternoon sir." "Good afternoon Mr Yang, this is y/n, my new husband as you know already, and y/n this is Mr Yang, he looked after Subin whenever I was not here, he's the house help we have and you can trust him with anything. He will also tell you all about Subin's likes and dislikes." "Good afternoon." Y/n bowed. "Good afternoon sir."

Mr Yang left the room and y/n went closer to the crib with Jongin. "He is... so precious." y/n wasn't able to form words properly as the child smiled at his father and made cute noises. "Yes, he is, I hope you will be good with him and treat him like your own child." Jongin picked Subin up and started playing with him. "Can I hold him?" "Yes, yes."

As y/n held Subin, his omega cooed at the child, it was a blissful moment for him and the child became very comfortable in y/n's arms, so much so that he started dosing off due to the pheromones of y/n. "He's such an adorable child Mr Jongin, I think I love him already." This was the loudest y/n has been till now in Jongin's presence.

"You don't need to be so formal with me y/n, I am your husband not boss. I don't want you to get intimidated by me. I won't be present at home a lot but you can always call my assistant and he will definitely make sure your problems are solved, rest you have Mr Yang too." "But, I am younger than you, so what am I supposed to call you?" "How about Jongin-ssi?" "Okay."

"Let me show you the kitchen and the bedroom, your luggage will be here soon so don't worry about that there are two closets so you can choose whichever you want and if you like mine I will shift to the other one, there is no problem." While following Jongin through the house y/n was feeling uncomfortable due to all the attention to detail about his choice which the alpha was showing as y/n felt that it was too much for him to do, according to y/n's upbringing he should be the one who should compromise for the alpha, not the other way around.

"This is the master bedroom, well I rarely sleep here now as it is too lonely to be by myself after my partner passed away. We were not that close but their heat ended up with the pregnancy so there is that. I hope you can be at home here." "Jongin-ssi, I will be very comfortable in a lot less too, please don't worry about my likes, I should be the one to worry about you as you are the alpha."

"Y/n... Who told you that?" "My parents and the teachers." "Oh y/n, is that why you have been silent all along?" "Yes." Y/n nodded affirmingly.

"Listen, come, sit here, not that far, here beside me." Jongin made y/n sit near him on the bed. "I am not your boss, not your superior or your owner or your only priority too to be honest. I am just an alpha by chance and so you are omega by chance. This in no way means you are inferior than me or you have to listen to my every demand. That is wrong on so many levels." "But... I was taught this only, to take care of the child and be there for you when you need me." "Oh my God y/n!? Seriously who taught you that!? No wait, I know

who. Just, forget all that, and try to live a life, please. You do have to care for Subin but that doesn't mean you are a servant or anything, you are a parent y/n."

"O-okay." It was hard for y/n to get used to such things but in a week everything sorted itself out. His luggage was delivered and he chose the already empty closet, he was taking care of Subin and often made food for Kai when he wanted to make a special dish, though the Alpha was always late to arrive and y/n had only seen him once in the bed when he woke up around 5 am to drink water and check up on Subin and saw the elder beside him.

There was no awkwardness between them, which was surprising enough for Mr. Yang to comment too "you both act like you have been married for ages, I was ready for some tension but it is a smooth sailing." Y/n blushed at the comment and went to the nursery, he was mostly there only, the child was too precious according to him to be left alone.

Subin liked y/n, it was very much clear by the way the boy smiled and giggled when y/n played with him, and often when Subin made a mess with food y/n fed him and cleaned him while singing to him, so much to the liking of the child that he slept right after it.

It was around seven in the evening when y/n left Subin's room as the child fell asleep after his dinner, he went to the kitchen and saw a note from Mr. Yang stating "please don't make dinner, sir said he would be bringing it." Y/n saw that and went to the hall to wait for the Alpha's return, and Kai came back around seven thirty.

"Welcome home." "Oh! Thank you. I thought you might like to have something from the outside today for a change so I got us pasta from my friend's restaurant and some wine, I hope it is okay with you." "Yes, thank you so much for this. I missed having pasta so much, how did you know?" "I asked your mother what you liked and after a lot of insisting that it has to be something specific and not 'everything' she asked the cook to tell me what you actually liked." Y/n was shocked, to think that Kai would go that far just to ask for a dish was incomprehensible for the omega raised to say yes to everything done by his Alpha.

"Oh don't cry, it was nothing much really." "Huh?" without realising, y/n was in tears. "I- I am, I don't know, just, thank you. I never thought I would be treated like this so, it is a lot to take, sorry." "I hope I have raised some expectations in that sense then, y/n, you are a good person, you should be treated well and respectfully. Now let's go and have dinner, I will shower later." "Okay."

The dinner was great, to eat with Kai sitting right in front of him and enjoying, really enjoying time with other person felt nice to y/n, it was a new feeling he is getting addicted to due to his alpha.

After the dinner y/n washed the plates and the glasses and left to check Subin once more before sleeping. When he reached the master bedroom and opened the door, he felt like he just stepped into a heat-inducing chamber. There was Kai, wrapped in a night robe that clearly did not hide his defined chest, and to top it off he was drying his hair with a towel while looking at something on his phone.

"Won't you come in?" "Huh?" For the second time in the night, y/n was speechless. "You have been standing there for quite some time y/n, oh! Is my outfit making you uncomfortable!? Wait! I will change into pajamas." "No!" y/n screamed. "No, I just - don't, like, it is okay, I am okay, I was just a bit surprised as I did not really think before coming in." "It is your room too y/n, you should not be thinking before coming in."

Y/n went and sat on his side of the bed and tried hard to focus on his phone and not on the half-exposed body of his husband. "Uhm, y/n, your scent, it is increasing intensely, are you okay?" "Y-yes I am okay, just, it happens." "Oh, it is, such a nice lavender smell though, very comforting." "Thank you."

Now y/n was blushing beyond help. They switched off the lights and slept off, but around one at night y/n was in trouble, it was not the time for his heat but the symptoms were too intense to be overlooked, he tried really hard to not let his mind wander and stay put but lost it when Kai suddenly grabbed his waist and pulled him so that he was spooned by the alpha, then he heard what made his pride break "y/n, precious, you are in heat, so suddenly, hmm" Kai rubbed the tip of his nose at the back of omega's neck and whispered more "was looking at me like that enough to make you this wet? I should take the responsibility then, hmm?"

Y/n could just whimper "a-alp-ha!" "shh!! There there, we should not lose control like this." Kai pulled both of them up and made y/n straddle him, "look at me y/n" and so he did, "you are so beautiful, and so loveable, I want us to be more connected before we cross the line, so I will help you through it but not knot you, I hope you can understand it." "ye-yes. Please but, help, please." before y/n can say anything more, Kai kissed him and the touches he left all over y/n body and the relief he provided to the omega through the night was something y/n would think about and blush for upcoming weeks.

P.S.:- If you liked it, you can support me by buying me a coffee; link's on my page.

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