#i have other feelings too about my dad but i’ll shut up now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chelseeebe · 1 month

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we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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flkwh0re · 1 month

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Team Player

Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding

A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭

Word count: 1,568

Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.

That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.

It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.

Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.

As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.

“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.

“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.

What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.

Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.

“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”

After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”

You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.

Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.

She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.

Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”

A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.

“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.

“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.

“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.

Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.

Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.

Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.

Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.

Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.

She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.

Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.

Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.

“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.

You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.

With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”

You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.

Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.

She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.

“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.

Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.

Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.

You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.

Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.

Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.

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greg-montgomery · 2 months

Note

Texting bf's dad hotch by accident when you're drunk and trying to get your bf to pick you up...

this idea >>>>

also aaron has another son besides jack in this

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

They were just a few margaritas. You didn’t expect a casual girl’s night to turn into a pounding headache and a room that was spinning around you.

It was fun and your friends wanted to stay longer, but your upset stomach would not let you enjoy the rest of your night. You were more than ready to get out of there.

“I’m gonna ask my boyfriend to come pick me up,” you told your friends, who seemed a bit too drunk to process your words.

As carefully as you could, you made your way outside the bar, and took your phone out of your purse. Going through your contacts you stopped when you spotted your boyfriend’s name.

‘Babe can you come and pick me up? I can’t drive’

You hit send, and right after, you shared your location with him.

‘I’ll be there in 20.’

Oh.

That was it? No whining? No scolding you for drinking too much? No complaining about you being an inconvenience?

It was a full moon; maybe he was going through some kind of transformation.

You closed your eyes for a bit and rested your head against the wall. The minutes would simply not pass fast enough. I’m never drinking again, you thought.

Your phone buzzed in your hands and a new message flashed across the screen.

‘I’m here.’

You were ready to lift your head and search for his car, but your eyes were glued on the contact name that appeared above the text you had just received.

It didn’t say Mark. It said Mark’s dad.

No way, you thought. No way, I asked Aaron Hotchner to come pick me up from a bar because I’m wasted.

But that was exactly what you had done.

The word embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover the range of emotions you were feeling at that moment; especially as you watched him get out of his car and walking towards you.

Why did he have to look so good? As if drunk texting him wasn’t embarrassing enough, he had to look like a god in a suit that cost more than your monthly rent.

‘Mr. Hotchner,” you said, when he approached you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to text you. I wanted to text Mark, but I got confused and God…I’m so, so dizzy.”

His expression stayed serious, but he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get in the car.”

Aaron opened the door for you and held your hand so you could get inside. You expected him to close the door but instead he leaned over you and fastened your seatbelt for you.

Your heart started jumping around at the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his face so close to yours. You weren’t proud of it, but Aaron Hotchner was your forbidden desire. And the star of more dirty dreams than you’d ever dare to admit.

His thick fingers brushed against your stomach as he made sure that your seatbelt was tight enough to keep you safe.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm your body down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, softly.

His deep voice was the cherry on top that had you melting on your seat.

“Yeah,” you answered weakly. “Just dizzy.”

He closed the door and made his way to the other side, and soon he was on the driver’s seat.

There was a small water bottle in the cup holder and he picked it up. “Here,” he offered, “Have some water. It’ll help.”

“Thank you,” you said taking it from his hands, and shivered at the contact when your fingers brushed.

The bottle was half empty which meant he already had some of it before you. He had wrapped his lips around it; around where your lips were now.

You devoured any water that was left and realized how bad you needed to get hydrated. “I needed that.”

“I can tell,” he laughed. “Come on,” he added, and started the car. “Let’s take you home.”

“Were you asleep?”

“Hm?””

“When I texted you. Did I wake you up?” you asked with a worried tone.

“I rarely sleep, honey. You don’t have to worry about me.”

You pressed your thighs together at the sound of the pet name and the sight of his hands around the wheel.

“Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said. “You needed me.”

“I did,” you said, breathless. “Mark would…”

You paused.

“Go on.”

You hesitated. “He would have probably told me to call a cab.”

“He’d let his girl get in the car with a stranger in the middle of the night? When she’s drunk?”

“Sometimes he gets upset with things like that. And, listen, I get it. I can be trouble sometimes.”

“Oh you can be,” Aaron said. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“What do you mean?”

He ignored your question, but it didn’t take too long before he spoke again.

“I’m gonna have a word with him. He’s not treating you well.”

“No, please don’t.”

The only thing that talk would achieve would be Mark getting upset with you.

There was a long pause, and you took advantage of the silence to stare at him. His side profile, his hands, his arms. He was perfect.

‘I wish Mark was more like you,” you said before thinking any better.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I could say way worse.”

He chuckled. “Unless you want both of us to get in trouble, don’t.”

“But-”

Aaron reached out to hold your hand, making you go quiet. “You’re drunk. But what I do want you to know is that I’m always here, okay?”

“Okay.”

He squeezed your hand and didn’t let go the entire ride home.

part 2

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch 🪐#ask

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 7 months

Text

Wreck My Plans - LN

Summary: After nearly a year of making long distance work, Lando has lost his patience and abruptly demands that y/n move in with him. Because he can't keep living most of the time without her.

Admittedly getting frustrated with someone like Lando Norris is easy.

It’s almost as if he really genuinely thinks nothing of his demands for y/n to fly off with him for a race weekend or have him just drop in out of nowhere when he decides he’s feeling lonely at night after insisting he wouldn’t be able to come over.

It’s not as if she doesn’t want him there.

But communication with him is a headache on the best of days.

“You can come!” Lando insists while following her out of the bedroom into her living room.

“Lando, I’m trying to make a life for myself. My boss has warned me, one more calling in sick for a weekend then being spotted on broadcast or another last minute holiday booking that interrupts other peoples schedule then I’m fired and I can’t lose my job.” Y/n frowns turning abruptly to look at him. “Flying to Monaco to spend a week with you is not on the cards.”

“Quit your job.” Lando demands and for a moment he almost wants to eat the words he just spoke because her expression of rage is not something he is enjoying being the victim of. It’s silent rage too which he knows says much more than if she was yelling at him, and yet he doesn’t shut up. Instead he continues speaking. “Quit your job. Move to Monaco and live with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Lando…you’re being ridiculous.” Y/n laughs in disbelief of the fact they’re even having this conversation.

They’re both so young and while they’ve miraculously managed to keep a relationship going for 10 months while she lives in a guest house at her parents house. It’s still so early for her to be thinking about moving countries to live with him.

“No. You’re just being stubbornly independent. It’s annoying.” Lando states as if his words are fact, and annoyingly he’s not entirely wrong. But it doesn’t mean he gets to say it out loud with so much confidence. “What’s stopping you? Your job isn’t even your dream job, and what’s better than living with me? I’ll take care of you, we’ll get to travel, have every morning together and you’ll be a full-time girlfriend who doesn’t have to worry about a thing because we’ll not have to worry about the one threat to this relationship.” Aka living in different countries and sometimes going weeks not seeing each other in person.

At one point she was seeing the Quadrant team more than she was seeing Lando and he was seriously unimpressed about it.

“I-What about my family?”

“I see my family all the time and you can do exactly what you’ve been doing with me. Plus I think your dad is more than ready to pass over the responsibility of you onto someone else. We’ve had a chat and he agrees it’s time for you to accept that you have to just live with me and let me take care of you.”

“Sounds like something he’d say.” Y/n mumbles in defeat since she knows her dad constantly makes jokes about how she’s his most expensive child and it’s a good thing she managed to end up with someone who has a job with such a high income because they’d need it to meet her needs(wants). “If-and I mean if-I agree to move in. Is that really it? My plans to lead my own life are wrecked.”

“You will be leading your own life, you’ll just be doing it by my side with no concern for travel budget and you’ll get to have amazing sex more regularly.” Lando grins holding nothing back with his other intentions for as to why he wants her to life with him. It’s definitely not something that is putting her off, even if he is still annoying her with his nonchalant attitude about it.

“Amazing sex?” She scoffs, knowing he’s right but feeling like she needs to humble him somewhat right now.

“If you need me to prove that we have amazing sex then I’m happy to deliver.”

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“Stop trying to deny that we’re made to have a life together. When we met you told me that you wanted a man who would let you give up and live on their sofa.”

“I said that as a joke after a bad day at work and you know it.”

“So you don’t want that at all?”

“I-“

“I won’t force you, y/n.”

“Just give me some time to think about it.” Y/n mumbles before she groans. “No. I don’t need to think about it.”

“Ok.” Lando nods thinking that she’s just decided that it’s not happening.

“I’d love to move in with you…idiot. But next time you want to suggest something life changing, maybe give me more warning…and I still have to give in my two week notice.” Y/n states while he nods quickly really just excited that this is actually happening.

By the start of the next month, Lando had new enemies of y/n’s family as they weren’t thrilled that she’s moving out the country but she was too excited about it to care and assured him that they would get over it eventually.

Lando sighs waking up to see her sleeping soundly, her face nuzzled into the pillow while he admires her and sighs just smiling over the fact he got her.

So far she’s been there a few days and he’s already spoiled her by buying her anything she gives a second glance.

“I know you’re awake.” He whispers watching her mouth twitch into a smile. “You can sleep on the plane.”

“But I’m so tired now.”

Attending a race weekend so shortly after moving in isn’t ideal, but he wants her there and she wants to be there but right now she is exhausted.

Eventually she’s up and they’re out travelling to the next race.

Now their relationship has never been hidden but it has been the most questioned due to the fact they are seen together so little. At one point she was with Max so much more accusations of cheating were being thrown into the ring but Lando put those to rest quickly.

Before y/n knows it they’re in the paddock and Lando seems to be making extra effort to show off his new roommate.

Of course when he gets up on stage as part of the media for the race week, the first question is about his relationship.

“You made it public knowledge that you and y/n moved in together. How is that going?”

“Oh she hates me so much already. Apparently I suck.” Lando nods jokingly before shrugging. “No, it’s going really well. But she moved in like 3 days ago and we’re already travelling. Everyone should expect to see her glued to my side whenever I’m not doing this stuff.”

“Yeah, she hates him.” Oscar adds with a small sarcastic smile.

“You know she does. I bother her all the time and she hates it.” Lando admits with a proud grin. “But she is going to be around a lot more now and…everyone can expect to see me doing everything and anything to irritate her.”

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando #norris #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #fanfic

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loafgeto · 7 months

Text

ᝬ 𝗡𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⤵︎

geto suguru x fem!reader

synopsis: you are the babysitter to twin girls. their adoptive dad, suguru, is normally dealing with work related issues and comes back one night with a treat.

cw: fem! reader, mdni 18+, explicit language, dilf geto suguru, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talking, fingering, squirting, some praising and usage of pet names (geto says princess, baby, and sweetheart, mister and sir are used for geto), you and geto basically fucking and trying to keep quiet while the girls sleep ;P

wc: 3.9k

a/n: hello guys, this is my first oneshot on here🙁 and if you know me, i’ve been obsessing over geto suguru and one of my friends suggested i write about him!! this oneshot isn’t proofread so it’s published however i wrote it like. i’ll go back soon to check for grammar or typo issues. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy because i know i will😋💯‼️

“Come on girls, it’s time for you two to sleep,” you call from the kitchen to the two girls that were sitting by the TV in the living room. After cleaning the table and washing dishes, you went to the girls in order to prepare them for bed.

Grabbing the remote to the TV, one of the girls suddenly whine. “But I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna watch TV still,” Nanako huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in persistence.

“Me too.. I like this show. Please miss Y/n?” the other twin, Mimiko frowns, pressing her stuffed animal close to her.

“I’m sorry girls.. you know your dad gave me your schedules and he firmly said for you two to be in bed by 8:30,” you remind the girls as the remote falls under your grasp and you hit the power button to turn the TV off. “Now if your dad found out I broke one of the rules, he might not let me be your babysitter anymore.”

Their eyes widen in shock and they end up complying to your words. It wasn’t necessarily true. Though, their dad would be disappointed, he wouldn’t fire you because of it. And that’s because you’re actually a great babysitter. The previous ones weren’t as bad, but the girls didn’t necessarily like them until you were hired.

Nanako and Mimiko were quick to like you as their babysitter, in which satisfied their dad and you began babysitting them constantly several weekdays and weekends. It had been three months since, and it’s like you were apart of the family.

Not only that, you were given a good pay every week just to watch and take care of them. He was a single dad, worked 5 days a week to provide for him and the girls, and well, extremely handsome. You were astonished to discover that he didn’t even have a partner. He always dismissed it, declaring he was too focused on his work to seek for a relationship.

Unfortunate. You were honestly attracted to him, but you didn’t get this job solely because of that. You genuinely needed money to support yourself, and since you had prior skills in taking care of children, you figured it’d be easier to earn that way.

You just happen to become interested in the dude. It was to the point you even started developing some romantic feelings for him. You started imagining yourself with him, with the girls, as a family. Even imagining him pinning you down on his bed and fucking you relentlessly. You felt guilty thinking about it all, but no one had to know.

For now, you hide your true feelings about him but still show your respect and care for him. And you weren’t certain but, you even considered that he might have something towards you too.

You tuck the two girls in their individual twin beds, making sure they were comfortable before reading them a bed time story. And when they finally fell into a slumber, you quietly slip out of their room, shut off the lights and close their door.

Venturing back into the kitchen, you decide to grab a small serving of the cookies you three baked for dessert earlier and settle in the living room before their dad got home.

You play on your phone for the remainder of the hour. Scrolling through social media and messaging friends back while munching on the cookies. You glance at the clock several times, reading the numbers before deciding whether to prepare a meal for their father or not. Usually, out of courtesy, you would cook him a simple dinner that he always appreciated by eating and complimenting how well you cooked it.

hello, mister geto. i was wondering if you wanted me to cook dinner for you so that when you get back, it would be ready? you sent him the message, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited for a response.

No later than 2 minutes, he replies. no need to worry. i’m getting takeout. thanks though.

Well, you guessed you were able to relax until then, which you found no problem in.

You took this moment to walk around the two story house and explore. Their dad gave you permission to do so, even allowed you to enter all of the rooms besides his unless necessary. You were allowed to touch items but handle them with care or else you’d pay for the damage. You often found yourself in the room where he stores series of novels and single books, and read there while the girls sleep.

This time, you decided to grab one of the books from the Percy Jackson collection and read in the living room before their dad came home. You didn’t know how many times you’ve read the series, but you enjoyed it, and could read it over and over again with no complaints.

By the time it was 9:30, you could hear the front door to the house click, indicating someone was using a key to open the house. You get up from the couch, deciding to greet their dad by the door. The knob twists and as you approach the large foyer, the door opens and their dad steps into the house.

Geto Suguru is definitely one in a billion. His eyes directly fall onto your figure when the doors open, and he found himself unable to break his gaze until he opens his mouth.

“Ah. Y/n,” Suguru was quite surprised with your greeting by the door, but he replaces his expression with a warm smile as he shuts the door behind him. “How was today? Were the girls good?”

“Today went well, as usual, Mister Geto. The girls were good. Did their homework, had dinner, and are sleeping right now,” you reply as he walks past you to get into the kitchen. He gives you a glance and nods, and you follow him.

“That’s good, I appreciate it,” Suguru implies as he enters the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on his kitchen island table. He gives you another look before adding, “want some?”

“Oh- no, thank you. Please, it’s your dinner. You should enjoy it,” you decline with a polite grin as you went to the other side of the island table. Conversations were occasionally like this between the two of you, it may seem awkward, but it didn’t feel like it. “How was work today for you, Mister Geto?”

“Was alright. Just got dragged into some issues. Have to deal with it tomorrow,” Suguru sighs with an irritated groan. He starts untying the knot from the takeout bag and took out the boxes.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully things will be alright for you,” you reply with a slight frown. “You know I’m here to listen to your problems.”

“No worries, but I appreciate you,” Suguru chuckles softly. “By the way, you sure you don’t want any? I bought too much for one person.”

“I’d feel bad..”

“You should feel bad for not eating, especially when I offered,” Suguru slides one of the boxes over to you. “Come on. It’d be our first dinner together.”

You didn’t necessarily know how to respond and decide to just comply to his offer. You take the takeout box and a pair of chopsticks. “Well.. thank you, Mister Geto.”

Suguru only nods as a reply and you both start to eat in silence. You notice that he frequently sends you glances. Mind you, you’re wearing a dress. The length was mid-thigh and the attire was mainly for the girls since they wanted to play dress up. His glances caused you to ponder if he was becoming uncomfortable and you decide to bring up the matter but Suguru speaks first.

“The dress looks beautiful on you,” Suguru blurts out the compliment as your eyes meet his. You were appalled, to say the least. This unexpected compliment caused your heart to skip rapid beats.

“O-Oh.. thank you, sir.. The girls wanted to play dress up, so I came in a dress in order to do that,” you casually explain, trying not to express your fluster due to his words.

Suguru raises a brow, but smiles. “Yeah? I’m glad you and the girls have a close bond. They don’t have a mother figure but I believe you’re supporting that role for them. I’m genuinely grateful for you since I can’t always be there for them. And you’re always welcome here, even if you aren’t scheduled to babysit them.”

“I really appreciate that. Thank you so much,” you give him a smile. Honestly, how more can this man go to attract you?

“You thirsty?” Suguru brings up next as he starts walking towards one of the cabinets. He takes out two wine glasses, glancing at you for an answer. “I don’t have wine anymore, you fine with some juice or soda and we pretend like it’s wine or whatever?”

You laugh softly. “I’m fine with that.”

Suguru pours juice in the two glasses and hands you one of them. “Next time, I’ll have some wine prepared. Just don’t want the girls getting their hands on something they shouldn’t be touching.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hide them extra careful. Besides, the girls are smart enough not to snoop in areas they aren’t supposed to,” you imply and Suguru chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right. Next time then.”

“Mhm. Next time.”

You and Suguru finish eating shortly afterwards. He remained at the island table, cleaning up the takeout boxes and messaging his employers on his phone. You went to the sink and began washing your glass cup, and afterwards, you’d finally prepare to go back home.

Suguru stood behind, unbeknownst to you. About to turn around in order to fetch his cup to wash, you felt the sensation of his body hover over yours. This feeling caused you to startle, but you remained poised and watch as he placed his empty cup in the sink.

“Don’t worry, I got it from here,” Suguru whispers in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine and you turn your head to meet his gaze. He was so close to you. His lips were reachable for you and your heart starts pounding.

“I-It’s okay.. I should be the one to..” you start to say as your eyes trail from his lips and up to his eyes. “..wash them..”

You and Suguru stood there, locking eyes for who knows how long. It was cliche, but at that moment, you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You felt your face burning and you were certain Suguru could see how flustered you’ve become. But you didn’t budge, and neither did he.

“Mister Geto..?”

“Fuck..” Suguru murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but remained in the same position. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just—“

He looks back up at you and the expression in eyes told everything.

In an instant, your lips found your way to his. Suguru immediately kisses you back, wrapping an arm around your waist while yours went around his neck. He gently pushes you against the kitchen island table, and he deepens the kiss with more passionate energy.

You pull Suguru closer, a hand going to grasp his hair as his free hand slithers under your thigh and he grips it. Suguru hoists your thighs up and moves his hand further under your dress.

“God.. you’re so beautiful. Wanna fuck you so bad, princess,” Suguru mumbles as he pulls away slightly from the kiss.

“W-Want you to fuck me.. Mister Geto..” you whisper through your pants as a smirk forms on his lips. He gives you another kiss, pressing his tongue against yours. You moan against mouth and he pulls away, sliding his hand up to cup your ass.

“Yeah?” He replies and you nod, feeling the tip of his middle finger trace the soaked area of your underwear. “Already so fucking wet, just f’me.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Suguru then began swirling his finger around your clothed clit, causing you to release a moan. Gosh. The feeling of his fingers just gently touching you already made you a complete mess.

“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” Suguru reminds you as he pushes your underwear to the side.

“Mhm.. want you to fuck me with your fingers, sir..” you mumble, still holding him by the neck.

Suguru wastes no time and pushes two of his longer fingers into your dripping pussy. You throw your head back slightly, gasping at the feeling before Suguru latches his mouth on your neck. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you at a sensual pace, circling his thumb around your clit.

Your hand grabs the edge of the island table for support and the other covers your mouth, refraining your loud moans to echo throughout the house. But it just felt too good, that you could barely hold back.

“You hear that, princess? You hear how wet you are for me?” Suguru inquires, pulling back and dropping to his knees. His fingers pump a few more time before he lifts the dress up even more. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“M-Mister Geto..” you moan as you felt his mouth latch onto your pussy. His tongue starts to suck and lick your clit, as he proceeds to slide and curl his fingers in and out of you in a faster pace. “So good..”

Suguru thrusts his fingers deeper, hitting your spots. He uses his other hand to lift your leg over his shoulder for a better angle before pushing his fingers out. He licks your arousal dripping from your cunt and down your thighs before pressing his tongue into your pussy.

“S-Sir!” you throw your head back as you felt his tongue lick in and all around pussy. He gives a gentle blow to your clit before giving it several kitten licks.

Suguru returns two of his fingers inside of you, curling and pumping them at a quicker speed. Your moans escape from the tip of your tongue just like that. It was music to Suguru’s ears and he wanted to hear your sweet and erotic noises more.

The way your walls clench around his long fingers made him wonder how it’d feel like with his dick. Oh, how he wanted to test it out right now.

“G-Gonna cum.. Mister Geto..”

“Cum for me, princess. Cum over my face and fingers.”

A hand goes to grip his hair as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers. You’re close, feeling his fingers curl in you to rub against your sensitive spots. Suguru quickens his pace so you’d cum faster when hearing your wet pussy squelch and moans get louder, messier.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. cumming—“ you moan out, head falling back and your grip on the kitchen island table tightens as your cum squirts over his fingers and mouth.

Suguru continues to pump his fingers several times as you came, licking all of the juices that dripped from his mouth. He cleans your cum with his tongue, making sure to get every droplet that dropped on your skin.

He gets up, gently pushing his fingers in your mouth in order for you to get a taste of yourself. You suck and swirl your tongue over his fingers and Suguru’s expression turns more cunning.

“Didn’t think my kids’ babysitter was this naughty,” Suguru comments with a chuckle following.

“It’s cause of you..” you murmur as he removes his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connected from your tongue and the tip of his fingers.

Suguru leans in to give you another kiss, lifting you off the ground with his strength and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips moves against his as he walks the two of you over to the living room, where he lays you down on the couch.

“Remember to keep your voice down, princess,” Suguru mutters as he trails his hand behind your back to the zipper of your dress. He gives you another quick kiss as you nod your head.

Suguru completely unzips your dress and lifts it over your head, tossing it to the side before examining your body with his eyes. “So perfect,” he says and lowers his body to kiss you again.

He grinds his body against yours and you could feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy. Even under all that clothing, you knew he was big. So big that you didn’t know if you could take it.

“Need you inside of me, Mister Geto. Please,” you whine as his hand slips under your bra to grope your breast.

“You that impatient?” Suguru chuckles against your skin before pressing several kisses down your neck and chest. But it’s obvious that he’s completely mesmerized. “Need my dick in you so badly, hm? I’ll give it to you, baby.”

Suguru unzips his pants, taking his hard cock out. It sprung up, already dripping in pre-cum. Your eyes were glued on his dick, mouth practically open. Your pussy quivered with the sight of it, knowing it’d be slipping in and out of you soon, making you beg for more.

He could feel his face flush as quickly takes off his shirt and he begins pumping his cock several times with his hand. “Can’t wait to feel your pussy around my cock.”

Suguru slips your underwear off, tossing it to the side with your dress and spreads your legs further apart before aligning the tip of his dick to your entrance. You bite your lip, feeling his tip glide against your wet folds.

“Still so wet..” Suguru murmurs, dick twitching with the feeling of your wet entrance. “Been waiting for this moment..”

“Me too.. sir..”

He pushes his cock inside of your pussy slowly, feeling your walls clench around him at an instant. You both let out moans, and Suguru lowers his body over you while using both of his hands to grab your hips.

Suguru was big, so fucking big. He stretches you out perfectly, as if your pussy was made just for his cock.

“Fuckkk,” Suguru grunts, pushing his entire length into your pussy.

“So big.. Oh g-god. Mister Ge—“

“Suguru. Call me, Suguru,” he interrupts as his face drops to your neck.

“Suguru..”

Hearing you say his name for the first time brought a warm feeling to his heart, it was so soft, sweet and affectionate. The way you looked at Suguru made him wonder if you actually felt the same way about him.

With no hesitation, Suguru thrusts immediately, grunting during the moment when he feels his cock grinding against the walls of your pussy. You cover your moans with your hand, and his thrusts become faster and deeper, hitting every sensitive part of your pussy.

“Fuck! Suguru-!” your arms wrap around him, nails beginning to claw his back.

Your moans start to resonate the room, despite trying to lower it, his cock was just too good. He thrusts fast, his balls slapping against your cunt and you swore you could feel him penetrate your womb. The wet and erotic sounds of skin slapping and your wet pussy starts to permeate the room and Suguru covers your mouth with his, refraining your loud moans to travel to the second level of the house.

Suguru’s pounding you so fucking good, just like you’ve always imagined him doing. But this was way better than all your imaginations and dreams. You’re in pure bliss, overwhelmed with the feeling of how good his cock his. Your legs wrap around Suguru’s waist as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper as he could, enjoying your moans falling into his mouth.

“Fuck.. your pussy feels so good princess,” Suguru says as he pulls his lips away from yours.

He slips his cock out before pushing two fingers inside of your pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb again. He thrusts them several times, getting moans out of you before slipping them out.

Suguru flips your body over, and you prop yourself with your two hands while his hands travels back to your hips. He grips the side of your hips, spreading your ass cheeks before slamming his cock back inside of you, making you wince.

“Suguru!”

This position made you feel him so deep inside. His cock rubs against your g-spot every thrust, making your body tremble and moans escape even more. Suguru noticed this made you louder, and he found it amusing and cute how you’re trying to stay quiet as possible.

Your pussy is clenching him so tight, making him grunt and moan. God, he knew he’d love this feeling. “F-Fuck, princess. Squeeze my cock just like that.”

“S-So close again.. Suguru-“

Suguru’s grip around your hip tightens to the point his hand print was marked and he fastens his pace, his hips slamming into your ass and the couch starts creating squeaking noises. Your upper body drops to the couch, unable to withstand propping yourself up. Your moans are buried within the couch and your back arches more to allow Suguru to fuck you deeper.

He could feel how deep he’s going in your pussy, it drove him insane. Fucking your kid’s babysitter should be the last thing to think of but he couldn’t help himself, especially on the first day he met you. For one, all he knew was that he wanted you. Wanted to hear you moan, cry out his name and kiss him. Wanted to cum inside of you and make you squirt. He’d make you his.

“Gonna cum soon, baby— fuck,” Suguru grunts, lowering his body over yours. One of his hands goes to grab your face, making you turn to face him. You both share a sloppy kiss, moans bouncing off each other’s tongues.

“Want your cum in me, Suguru..”

“Yeah? Gonna pump some into your womb. Gonna make you mine.”

You can barely speak, your mind becomes foggy and your eyes are rolling back. Moans can only tell how you’re feeling, and it’s enough for Suguru to know he’s fucking you the best.

Suguru’s lips trail down your neck and to your shoulders, and he peppers several kisses against your skin. He gently bites the skin of your back, returning his grip to your hips as he quickens his thrust, pounding you from the back.

“Fuck, fuck. I-I’m all yours, Suguru!” you cry out, trying to grip the seat of the couch as you reach your next orgasm.

“Cumming too, shit—“ Suguru grunts, his dick pumping cum into your womb as you squirt over his cock and couch. He gives several slow thrusts, feeling the walls of your pussy pulsating and squeezing all of his cum out.

You’re both panting and sweating, processing the moment that just occurred. Suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside of you, gaining the warm feeling of your pussy. He groans, finally slipping his cock out.

His cum mixed with your juices drip out of your pussy, streaming down your inner thigh and onto the couch. Suguru is breathing heavily and he lowers his body in order to press a kiss against your temple.

“Wanna stay here for the night?” Suguru questions, lips near your ear.

“I don’t know..” you reply, turning your head to him before he kisses your lips. “I don’t have extra clothes.”

“Wear mines.”

Suguru kisses you once again, trying to convince you further.

“Come on. It’s late, besides you and I need a shower. And clean up the mess we made,” Suguru continues with a short chuckle. “Plus, I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to see you in the morning.”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding your head. “Okay.”

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

Text

You and Kiri Overhear Lo’ak Giving Neteyam Advice On How To Ask You Out (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: fluffy fluff, Neteyam is adorable, Lo’ak and Kiri duo strike again, all this is based on this one tik tok sound that I heard that was SO adorable, and it screamed Neteyam

“I’m telling you, that boy is obsessed! I’ve never seen someone pine over another so much,” Kiri laughed, giving you a playful shove.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better. If he liked me as much as you said, he would’ve said something already,” you playfully rolled your eyes, waving your friend off.

You two had just finished healing lessons with Mo’at, and were now on your way back to the Sully tent to hang out with the boys.

Kiri was swearing up and down that the feelings you had for Neteyam were very valid and very mutual, but you weren’t buying it.

Neteyam was a warrior, a Sully, a future Olo’eyktan.

You were just a simple girl who wanted to become a simple healer.

In your eyes, there was nothing special about you. You weren’t the best hunter, singer, or dancer.

So why would he ever like you?

A romantic relationship with Neteyam was a pipe dream. And to keep from getting hurt, you reminded yourself of this fact over and over again.

“Well, my brother may not look it, but he’s an idiot. And a shy one at that. But that shyness and idiocy is alllll for you,” Kiri teased, giving you a few pokes in the stomach.

“Quit it!” you laughed, frantically shoving her hands away.

That was your tickle spot.

“You’re crazy! I could never say that!” a familiar voice exclaimed from inside a nearby tent.

You and Kiri quieted your giggles, turning to each other in confusion before moving closer to the home, peeking through a small tear.

“Shut it! Do you want the whole clan to hear?!” Lo’ak harshly whispered, shushing his older brother.

Neteyam.

“I’m sorry, but that’s far too bold. I’ll scare her away,” Neteyam dismissed, resting his hands on his knees, which were sat criss-cross.

Her?

You felt a piece of your heart break, and tears well in your eyes.

They were talking about a girl. One who Neteyam seemed fond of.

“We should go. It’s rude to listen in,” you whispered, your voice small and slightly broken.

Why were you feeling this way?

A lump in your throat seemed to grow larger and larger every time his words replayed in your head.

You had tried to push away your feelings, but at the first mention of another girl, it was made perfectly clear that you could not hide emotions so intense.

And Kiri was quick to pick up on this.

“Now hold on a minute. Let’s hear the rest,” she held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Little did the two of you know, Lo’ak had heard every word you said, and was now going to make it his mission to put on a show for Neteyam’s girl outside.

He knew his brother was a painful over-thinker, and would never make the first move on you.

So why not give him a little push?

“Okay, so what do you want to tell her then?” Lo’ak started again with a sigh, giving his brother tired eyes.

Neteyam groaned, raking a nervous hand through his braids. “That’s the problem. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Girls love compliments. So you gotta compliment her. Tell me a feature of (y/n)’s you like,” Lo’ak smiled, hopefully talking loud enough so you could hear

“Her eyes. They’re so big and beautiful, and have such a pretty, yellow color to them. I want to tell her this, but how should I?” Neteyam asked again.

“Just say it, bro. Walk up to her, flash her a nice smile, then say, Hey, (y/n). Did anyone ever tell you your eyes are beautiful?” Lo’ak demonstrated, making a Neteyam face at the last part.

You blushed so hard you thought you might burst.

Neteyam felt this way...about you?

“See, there you go again. You may be able to say that, but I cannot. I do not......I do not have your confidence,” Neteyam looked down at himself, hanging his head.

This was pathetic.

He needed to get help from his baby brother in order to talk to you.

He had faced his Iknimaya, Sky People, even his angry dad. But talking to you was scarier than all of those three things combined.

Lo’ak gasped, abruptly standing up from his seat. “You have loads to be confident about, bro! Just look at you.”

He smirked, walking over to his brother and giving him a firm pat on the back.

“You’re a strong warrior, a skilled hunter, and a killer with a bow and arrow. Not to mention you have the devilishly good looks of us Sully men. You’re the whole package, dude.”

Neteyam slightly smiled, thankful for his brother’s praise, but still on the fence about all this.

Lo’ak sighed, sitting down in front of the nervous boy.

“Let’s try something else. Why don’t you tell me what you like about her face? Her lips? Her hair? The way she braids her hair? What about-?” “I love all of it, okay!” Neteyam interrupted, unable to take this anymore.

“I can’t pick one thing to like because they all are perfect to me. She is perfect to me. But I cannot just walk up to her and tell her this because what if she does not feel the same. I’d have poured my heart out, only for it to spill on the floor.”

Damn.

Lo’ak had no idea his brother could be so poetic.

Sure, it would make him want to barf if anyone else had said it. But this was his brother, and he was happy for him.

Lo’ak smirked, realizing the trap he just led Neteyam in and giving his mental self a high-five.

Mission Accomplished.

Meanwhile, you were practically about to faint.

Your long time crush had just professed his love for you loud and proud.

And while you were over the moon with this news, Kiri’s I told you so face was starting to get on your nerves.

“C’mon. Let’s go before we get caught,” you whispered, getting ready to tip-toe away.

“You ladies can come in now!” Lo’ak cockily announced, you and Neteyam turning as pale as ghosts.

Shit.

...

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm, @adavenus, @sweetdayme4427, @lilac13

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

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prettyfastcars · 4 months

Text

you're wrong but you're so much fun | Lewis x Reader

Summary: With your mom and his dad dating, of course you would be spending Christmas and New Year under the same roof as Lewis. As annoying as your ‘stepbrother’ was, you often found yourself unable to resist his charm. But enough is enough you decided, you were done with him acting like he was superior. So you found yourself a guy to casually date for a little while, to distract you, but also to help you win whatever game was going on between you and Lewis. And the latter was not happy at all when he found out about the other man in your life.

Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, jealous!lewis, bondage, mild degrading kink, dom!reader

a/n: if you want, you can read part 1 and part 2 !! Also, I’ll see you after new years now, bye bye <3

“Who were you on the phone with last night?”

You weren’t even done filling your plate up at the breakfast table when Lewis hit you with the accusatory tone.

Both your parents were in the cabin this morning. Maybe the kitchen if they hadn’t moved since you last saw them just minutes ago. You could hear faint whispers of their voices and laughter, so chances were that they could still hear you and Lewis.

However, since it was just you and Lewis at the table, of course he would resort to being mean and a bully for no reason.

“A friend.” You replied, “Why?”

Lewis sighed, “Because your bedroom is right next to mine and I can’t sleep if you’re giggling all night.” He sounded like the brat you thought he was.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll giggle quietly from now on.” You paused for a moment then added, “Although I don’t remember you minding me being loud that night when you comforted me during the thunderstorm, or the other day when you were giving me fashion advice in my bathroom.”

He glared at you. “Shut your mouth.”

You smirked at him. Even threw in a little wink.

—

Lewis ignored you the whole day. But that was until your mom suddenly asked you at lunch, “Hey honey, when can we meet that boy you told me about?”

The silence which followed was heavy.

You answered, “I don’t see why you need to meet him,” You said, purposely ignoring the confused look from Lewis, “We’re not seriously dating, it’s just… you know? A casual, temporary thing.” You ended by shoving food in your mouth.

Lewis cleared his voice and tried to act as natural, calm and not confused as he asked, “Where did you meet this boy?”

“Online,” You answered, and gave him a few details he didn’t ask for. “He’s staying at a nearby cabin with his friends so we’ve just been casually talking.” You added, “We have plans to meet up soon but our schedules just aren’t aligning.”

You locked eyes with Lewis after that. You could hear your mother saying how it would be a good idea to invite the boy over when you would be having a bonfire soon, but you barely paid attention. The look on Lewis’ face, the realisation that he did not in fact control everything you do was priceless.

You had the upperhand in this game for once, and you loved it.

The two of you didn’t interact much after that. But you could feel Lewis’ eyes on you the whole time you were around each other. For some reason, even when you were in different corners of a room, he would still glare at you.

Neither of you ended up even remotely close to one another that night. Which was good because he was getting on your nerves with all that staring.

However, the following night, Lewis walked into your room all ready to piss you off some more. Maybe even to remind you that you can’t just be messing around with some random boy. But then he froze the moment he entered your room and shut the door behind him.

There you were, standing in front of the full-length mirror next to your bed, wearing nothing but dark green, lacy underwear, and a matching excuse of a bra. See-through all of it, looking like it was some sizes too small for the amount of skin that was on display.

But that wasn’t what bothered him. No. What bothered him was that you had your phone in your hand. He also noticed the polaroid camera on the bed.

He saw red for a brief moment. His brain short-circuited. Fuck.

Meanwhile you were the opposite of ashamed or embarrassed when you saw him. Having him in your room at this time, wearing nothing but his usual grey sweatpants, meant that your parents were out with their friends.

Which means Lewis probably thought he was gonna act like he owns and controls you again. But you were ready this time. You’d had enough.

“Oh hello there.” You said, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just walk in on you basically taking nudes. You refused to seem inferior to him anymore. He wanted to play this game? Fine, but you were determined to win this round.

Lewis finally blinked, breaking out of whatever reverie he was in, and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

You turned to face him, confidently. He tried to avoid looking at you but then he gave in. Eyes roaming all over your body. You shivered for a moment, physically feeling his stare. But then you refused to let him win again.

“You really should knock before coming into a lady’s room, Lewis.” You spoke with fake defencelessness. “Now look, you’ve caught me all vulnerable.” You pouted a little, knowing you were pissing him off.

“You–,” He stopped talking and sighed, shaking his head. He looked at you, then at the phone in your hand, then at the polaroid camera and the photographs on the bed. “Stop this shit, alright? Else I’m gonna tell your mom.”

You chuckled. He sounded like a kid. “Oh Lewis,” You cooed, “I’m a grown woman with a job, who earns her own money.” You stated, “If I want to take pictures of myself in lingerie that I bought, I don’t see why anyone, least of all you, should have a problem with that.”

Lewis finally moved away from the door, stepping further into your space. Getting gradually closer to you he said, “Right.” He admitted. “I don’t have a problem with you taking pictures of yourself, but…” He leaned closer, you stood your ground even if seeing his broad shoulders, big muscles, tattoos made part of you want to roll over and offer yourself like a soft puppy for him to play with. “Who the fuck are these pictures being sent to?”

You gave him a smug look, “That’s none of your–,”

He cut you off by grabbing you by the throat and pulled you closer, squeezing just a little. You’d be lying if you said your body didn’t instantly react to that. You felt the need to clench your thighs together.

“Oh I think it is.” He spoke calmly even though there was a fiery jealousy in his pretty brown eyes. “You think I haven't noticed?” He questioned. “Texting all the time, smiling at your phone, even using your phone at the dinner table.” He listed all that he had noted. “You’re gonna stop talking to that guy.”

You scoffed, even though he had a hand wrapped around your throat, you sassed, “You can’t tell me what to do, big bro.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Can’t I?”

You persisted, “No.” You whispered, “I am done letting you boss me around.” You caught the slight frown on his handsome face. Gods… why did he have to be so handsome?

“Is that so, little sis?” He teased, pushing you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed. “You’re gonna talk back, now? Hmm? You’re gonna argue with big brother?”

That mocking tone of his was pissing you off. And he was much stronger than you so the only way you could overpower him would be if you caught him off guard. You moved when he least expected it. You twisted the two of you around and pushed him down onto the bed instead.

Lewis frowned when he fell on his back on your bed. He went to get up but you were already straddling him at that point so he couldn’t get up. He didn’t want to either. This was new, he had never had you be on top of him before.

You wrapped your hands around his ridiculously muscular, attractive neck this time, pinning him down onto the bed. Lewis was partially confused but partially turned on. You could feel it. The erection in his pants pressing up against you.

You stared down at him, ignoring the way his hands felt free to touch and rub and caress your skin. Ignoring how good it felt, you said, “I’m done letting you treat me like I’m some petulant little girl you need to keep in check.”

He smirked, “Well you’re acting like one right now.” He said, grabbing onto your hips, “Just let me–,”

You cut him off, “You talk too much, you know that? And your hands wander too much as well.” You thought about it for a moment, then came up with a plan. Glaring down at Lewis you said, “Stay put.” You warned as you went to get off of him. But seeing his smirk and knowing he would try to get the upper hand again, you had no choice but to grab his hand and guide it in between your legs.

Lewis frowned, mumbled a quiet “Fuck…” when he felt your warmth, your wetness. All for him. His fingers felt free to feel around down there. You let him, for now.

“I said, stay put.” You repeated. “Be a good boy, and only then can you keep playing with this. You hear me?” You whispered, smirking at the look on his face. He was surprised of course, but he was into it.

So he rolled his eyes and dropped back down onto your bed. Folding his muscular hands behind his head, he waited. You got off the bed but then stood and admired his physique for a moment.

Golden skin. Tattoos on display. Braids untied. Muscles bulging from places you didn’t know the human body had muscles… Lewis of course didn’t mind your ogling. He loved the attention.

You forced yourself to move upon seeing the smug look on his face. Who does he think he is? A handsome man with the body of a Greek god, that's who.

You rummaged around your drawers until you found what you’d been looking for. And when you brought it over to your bed, Lewis began chuckling.

“Aww what are you gonna do with that? Tie me up with a pretty bow?” He taunted, looking at the white ribbon strips in your hands.

You smirked. “Did you know I know how to do shibari ties? You’re lucky there’s no actual rope around.” Lewis’ smile dropped when you climbed on top of him again. You chuckled, “Scared, big bro?” You teased.

For once, he didn’t fight back. Mostly because he was also lowkey excited to see where this was going.

You moved up his body, straddling his chest as you grabbed his wrists and tied them together with the white ribbons. Once secured, Lewis let out a breathless chuckle when you then went to tie his wrists to the metal headboard. “You’re insane,” He commented. “You really think I can’t get out of that?”

“I’d like to see you try.” You scoffed, confident in your skills. “The ties are strong, but if you struggle too much, the silk ribbon will surely burn your skin. We don’t want that, do we?”

Lewis glared at you, soft lips parted as he breathed slightly more heavily.

You even added a little bow to complete the look. “There,” You said, satisfied with how strong the ties were. Not tight, but definitely locked. “You wanna see how it looks?” You grabbed the polaroid camera which was on the bed and took a picture. The photograph came out and you waved it around, blowing on it. Taking your sweet time and ignoring the gorgeous man under you. “That’ll take a while to develop, but trust me, you’ve never looked better.” You winked at him.

“You’re gonna regret this, little sis.” He whispered dangerously, hissing in pleasure as you dragged your nails lightly up and down his exposed torso. Tracing his abs and his tattoos with the tip of your finger. Running your hands all over his chest. “Damn you.” He spoke through gritted teeth as you dug your nails in his sides playfully.

You reached down to lower his sweatpants, and as you did, his cock stood proud and tall. Already leaking at the tip and you had barely touched him yet.

“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Walking into my room whenever you feel like it, with that pretty face and sinful body…” You leaned down to kiss that compass tattoo in the middle of his chest.

He let out a breathy laugh, “So you do think I’m pretty.”

You looked up and glared at him. “Don’t make me gag you to shut you up, Lewis.” You warned.

He smirked, scoffing. “Yeah right.”

Part of you wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“You know what? I don’t wanna hear you talk.” You got off of him and quickly took your underwear off before straddling him again. His cock remained hard, untouched and leaking. Looking irresistible. But you needed him to shut up first so you balled up the dark green material and shoved it into his mouth.

Lewis laughed as you did, fully prepared to spit it back out. But that was until you grabbed the remaining ribbons and tied it around his head, keeping the balled up thong inside his mouth as you tied yet another bow at the front of his now gagged mouth.

You picked up the polaroid camera again and took another picture of him. “Smile,” You taunted, capturing him tied up with white bows and gagged. “So pretty,” You murmured as you put both camera and photograph aside.

He looked up at you with unrestrained lust in his warm eyes. He wasn’t fighting back as hard as you had imagined he would, you noticed.

You smiled triumphantly as you rolled your hips against him, feeling his hard cock against your wet inner thighs. “Oh fuck…” You whispered, smiling when you heard his muffled groan. You could feel that familiar tingle in between your legs. And you were ready to just fuck him but, you wanted to mess with him first.

You gave him a soft kiss on the bow right on top of his mouth, he struggled against the knots at his wrists, but you ignored him and reached down to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned, closing his eyes and thrusting up into your fist.

You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin leisurely, not rushing even though he was squirming under you, his moans and groans muffled.

“You see how nice it is, when you shut the fuck up and stop being mean to me?” You teased, biting down on his neck while your hand moved up and down his dripping cock. You liked the sounds of his muffled moans. He was somehow more vocal now that he was gagged.

Lewis groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just took whatever you gave him.

At one point you checked in with him, asking, “Does anything hurt?” You pointed at his tied wrist and mouth. He glared at you with annoyance and desire in his eyes and silently shook his head. “Good,” You gave him another soft kiss on the nose before continuing.

You released his cock, kissing down his body and bringing your mouth closer to where he desperately needed you. You smirked when you felt him squirm even more when you kissed him on his hip bones and all over his lower abdomen.

You heard him groan, a muffled “Please…” escaping his mouth.

You giggled at the sound of that, “Oh what’s that? Was that a ‘please’?” You watched him for a moment. Watched how he rolled his eyes at you, thrusting his hips up just trying to get you to touch him. “You’re learning your manners already, I see.”

Then without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. Slowly. Lewis’ loud, muffled moans filled the room. You sucked on his tip, your tongue teasing him as you felt your body tingling with need too.

You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, as he tilted his head back. He looked even more ravishing, completely at your mercy for a change. It made you feel powerful.

He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to make him come just yet. You licked his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Lewis moaned, his voice muffled still, making him sound needy and desperate.

You dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily, causing him to thrust his hips up. You were driving him crazy and you loved it.

Lewis moaned even louder the moment you pulled your mouth away, lifted up and sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him making him groan. Your walls clenched around him, making both of you let out guttural moans.

You leaned in and kissed his closed eyelids, cupping his face in your hands as you slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him deep inside you. “Fuck… why do you have to feel so good, huh?” You chuckled when he tried to pull against the white ribbon strips, but all in vain. “Guess I did successfully tie you up with a bow, didn’t I?”

You heard a rare whine from him. He sounded so vulnerable, and desperate that it made you speed up as you rode his cock. Your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. You watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” You teased. “Beg for it, come on.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth, lips hovering above the white bow. “Oh what? You can’t?” You laughed, “You can’t even beg, can you?”

Lewis groaned louder. His desperation was quite clear. And he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your pace. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.

Soon, Lewis was just a moaning mess under you. Cock throbbing inside you, moans muffled, his hands just gave up trying to break free from your ties. But fuck he was a vision…

Lewis got loud, growling as you teased him, riding his cock perfectly. There was nothing else he could focus on in that moment.

You eventually gave in. “Are you ready to come for me?” You asked, looking deep into his eyes. His pleading stare told you he was. “Go on then, come inside me, big bro.”

He was so close anyway that he came right after. His moans begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast as you came as well, clenching around him violently.

You caught your breath for a minute, then quickly untied his hands and pulled the thong from his mouth. You leaned in to kiss him, slow and gentle this time. “You did so good,” You murmured against his soft lips. “Who knew you’d be such a good boy the moment you’re tied up?”

Lewis kissed you back lazily. Quiet, for once. He didn’t have a sassy reply this time. His hands hesitated to wander this time, only barely brushing against your thighs.

You kissed his warm, damp chest, murmuring, “If you want us to keep doing this, you’re gonna stop being mean all the time, alright?” You looked up to see him watching you with a strangely calm look on his face.

“Fine,” He muttered, like it was an inconvenience to him.

You scoffed, “Look at you pretending you didn’t like being tied up.” He avoided your eyes immediately and you couldn’t help but laugh. But then you remembered…

Straddling him once more, you reached for the polaroid photographs. “Aww,” You cooed, showing them to him, “Look how pretty you look, white bows and all.”

Lewis just groaned and shoved you aside. You laughed as you landed beside him on your bed. You expected him to get up and walk out of your room but he stayed put. Processing, maybe.

“Here,” You handed the polaroids to him as you tangled your legs with his upon turning on your side to look at him, “Keep them.”

Lewis reluctantly took them then sighed and said, “I hate you.”

You checked the mental scoreboard and there it was, a first win for you. “I know you don’t.” You winked at him.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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thecuriousquest · 4 months

Text

Dirt Bag (Daddy Loves You Part Two)

Yan!Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @murderofravens

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, rape/non con vaginal sex, rape/non con anal sex, heavy spanking, possessive tendencies, guns, death threats, pot references, degradation kink, Daddy kink, all characters are 18+

Master List

Part One

My Ask Box is currently closed while I catch up on requests. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

—————————————————————————

You guys do not get along with each other AT ALL, and he takes this out on you by being petty as fuck. If you’re not going to be his good little girl, then he’s going to be stern as fuck until you can get your fucking shit together.

He tells you this every time you try to argue about curfew, every time he sees you’re about to go out dressed in those snug jeans and a crop top.

Honestly, he couldn’t give a fuck about what you wear, but he’s petty, so he’s going to order you to go back upstairs and change.

You got a problem with it? It just means he gets to spend more time keeping you at home while arguing with you. Argue too much and he might just pull out a wooden spoon and smack your ass with it a few times until you back out of his reach and shoot up to your room about as fast as a bottle rocket.

Damn. The power a wooden spoon holds, huh?

It makes him feel bigger than he already is.

But he isn’t in the mood to argue when he sees you walking inside with a boy. Neither of you get even five steps in when he rolls his eyes and stands from the living room couch. Fuck, work was hell. Killing for money today was just awful. Now he has to deal with you and some fucking idiot?

He pushes you towards the stairs, roughly. You fall on the fourth step on your ass, hitting your elbow on the hard wood.

“What the fuck’s up your ass, old man?!”

He doesn’t even bother with you as he fixes his eyes on the asshole in his doorway.

“Out,” is all he says as he points towards the screen door that just shut a few seconds ago.

“Whoa, man, who even are you?”

He looks stoned. Of course he looks stoned.

“I said-“ he grabs his gun, the same one he took on his mission earlier. “Out.” He cocks the gun and points it straight at the guy wreaking of pot. “Now.”

And that sobers him up pretty quick because he’s out the door in less than two seconds.

You watch your step dad put his gun back in his waistband, and you scream at him.

“Why do you ruin everything for me?!”

His eyes finally turn to you, dark and cold like a moonless sky. He grabs you by your jaw, pulling you in close while keeping your ass on the steps.

“I hafta protect you from scum like that because you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

That’s the only reason he gives you as he tucks you under one arm, keeping you close to his hip.

“You kick, I’ll start spankin’ you.”

But you don’t listen to his warning, so you thrash and beat on his bulky thigh through his sweat pants, never relenting until a firm palm comes down on the pocket of your jeans.

You elicit a guttural cry from the impact, feeling fire blossom across the cheek he just smacked.

“Oh, you asshole! Fuck you, Toji- OW!”

It only gets worse from there. He walks to his bedroom that he shares with your mother, and as he walks, he roasts your ass. The jeans make you feel like you have zero protection because it just hurts so fucking much.

“Toji!” you cry out as he throws you on the bed, bending you like one of those art dolls made for posing.

He manhandles you onto your stomach, giving you your real punishment as he tears your jeans off of you.

“You’ve been a real bad girl, ya know that? Disregardin’ Daddy like a fuckin’ bitch.”

And it’s so much worse now to feel his hand, which could be just as bad as a belt, bite into your supple skin. You break down, snot dripping from your nose as tears spill over your lashes. You grip the shitty comforter, kicking every once in a while when the burn gets so bad that you just can’t control your limbs.

“Toji, stop!”

All he hears is a demand, and nobody orders Toji around. Especially not his dirt bag daughter.

It takes a while to get you there, but you finally lower your head in acceptance, submission as you murmur “please, please” while crying so terribly.

And Toji can’t help but palm the meat of your ass, the doughy flesh now sporting a horrible scarlet.

“Damn, that’s gotta hurt, hon,” is all he says as he massages your raw skin.

You hear rustling coming from the bedside before there’s a presence in between your legs. You’re quick to try to turn over, but one large forearm across your lower back keeps you right where he wants you.

“This is kinda yer own fault, ya know? Such a filthy little slut.” He impales you, splitting you with his piercing cock. “Damn. So fuckin’ tight. Who would’ve known? Thought you’d be loose with the way ya act and dress.”

You feel like your soul has left your body, not even hearing your own screams as your step dad fucks you on the bed he shares with your mom.

“Stop it! I hate you!” you wail as you pound your little fists into the pillow.

Toji coos at you. “Come on, hon, don’t be like that. Want me to fuck yer ass instead?”

The shock of his words still you, and you whimper and plead for him not to.

“Then tell me ya fuckin’ love me so much. Tell Daddy ya love ‘em.”

This is the sickest kind of “love” imaginable.

Gasping for air through a sob stuck in your throat, you feel your stomach roil as you repeat the words he wants to hear.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Yeah? Yeah, love ya too, hon.”

The control he has over you is strangling as he bullies that little spot that has your hips bumping into the mattress. He reaches underneath you with one hand, supporting himself with the other. Just like that, he fiddles with your clit, pinching and twirling the puffy thing.

You stiffen as something builds and continues building until you just can’t keep still anymore. You let go of the tension, and Toji can feel your juices all over his thigh-slapping cock.

But Toji isn’t a nice man. No, Toji is a terrible man who kills people for money and fucks his dirt bag daughter until she breaks as a punishment.

He pulls out of your throbbing pussy and lets his wet dick nestle against your asshole. Your eyes widen when you feel him pushing inside.

“I told you I loved you!”

“Yeah, I heard ya. Daddy loves ya too, baby girl.”

He pumps deep inside of you, skin-on-skin contact so rough it sounds like clapping. Your freshly spanked ass so raw and bruised that you cry every time he pistons into you.

And finally, finally, the moment he’s been waiting for, you collapse into the bed in a heap of sobs and messy whimpers. Oh, it’s so good to watch you no longer hold yourself up on your elbows. With your face in the scratchy pillow case, he pulls you back by your pony tail and whispers the worst things into your ear.

“I’m all ya got, hon. Don’t worry. Daddy will take such good care of his baby girl. Yeah, no more bein’ bad for Daddy. Next time ya act up, Daddy’s gonna think you want it real bad in that cute little pussy and tight ass. Ya got me?”

And you’re so distraught you can barely respond, but you somehow find the capability to say, “Yes, Daddy!” because you fear what he might do if you call him anything else.

The laughs from above you confirms your suspicion that you made the correct choice in calling him “Daddy”. He pounds your fluttering little asshole, calling you “his bitchy little brat”, saying that you won’t be like that anymore though, telling you he’s going to be a lot more firm with you from now on because he doesn’t like the dirt bag you’re turning into.

And he’s starting with the friends and boys you hang around. Whispering in your ear that he’ll kill them all before he lets you officially turn into one of them.

You tighten up in fear, crying because doing that makes it worse for your poor, squelching hole. You nod along, agreeing with him for now.

And when your step dad is on the edge, he jizzes inside of your asshole, filling you up. When he pulls out, he’s fascinated by his white hot come spilling out of you, dripping between your scarlet cheeks, disappearing between the folds of your pussy.

“Atta girl. Knew ya could take it.”

A final clap of appreciation to your sore bottom has you sobbing a fresh round of tears.

He rolls his eyes and rubs your back, pulling you in close to him as he lays his head on the pillow. What’s even worse is that you’re so tired you actually fall asleep on his chest.

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

The birthday gift Robin gets from her parents is that they’re gonna help her fund a three month solo trip to Paris. Steve thinks she should be delivering this news with much more excitement than she currently is.

“Okay, but you’re going, right?” he says, as she bites her nails for the third time. When she doesn’t reply, he lifts his eyes to the heavens, despairing. “Oh my god, are you kidding? Robin, you’ve wanted this for—”

“Years,” she confirms, so quietly. “I want—” She swallows. “I want it so badly, Steve.”

He pauses, drops their usual teasing schtick. “Okay,” he says, a little softer. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just…” She moves her hand away from her mouth, tugs on a hangnail. “What if—what if something… happens. And I’m not…” She gestures vaguely. “Not here.”

Steve slings an arm over her shoulder. “Rob,” he says, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin nods. “I know, I know.”

But then she sighs, and Steve understands: it’s one thing to know something objectively, another thing to feel the certainty in your bones.

He has a wave of gratitude for Robin’s parents, for them knowing that she needs this, for letting her have a year out, maybe even two, without judgement. It’s something they all need, really, in different ways: some time to let the weight of everything settle, to catch their breath.

Steve’s honestly been relishing the mundanity of it all, the comfort of routine—easy days where the biggest ‘disaster’ is him being late for their opening shift at Family Video.

“Keith’s keeping your job open for you, right?” Steve asks, just in case that’s a sticking point.

Robin nods again, laughing. “Yeah, mom arranged that all before she even booked the flights. Well, I think she just basically told him that—”

“So it’s gonna be a super long vacation.” Steve gives her knee a reassuring little shake, before tickling the back of it. “Jesus, Robin, if you don’t go, I’ll go for you.”

Robin snorts and wiggles out of his grip. “Shut up.”

“And I’ll speak French so badly that I’ll just get banned for life, like, right outta the gate, it’ll be tragic—”

“I’ve got the picture, dingus,” she says, and she’s smiling—finally, finally there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes.

And that excitement only grows as her flight date gets closer, as she calls Steve the week before, begging him to be the one to take her to the airport, because, “My dad took one look at my suitcase and burst into tears, please Steve, the man can’t do this.”

And then Steve’s pulling up to her driveway, and she’s already waiting for him, perched on her suitcase. She’s wearing a cobalt blue beret, and Steve loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst with it.

For a while, it’s all grins and laughter, Steve giggling every time he edges out of the driveway, and Robin’s mom stops him, frantically waving, asking if Robin’s got everything, did you pack that other coat, honey?

Then it feels like time rushes forward—they’re at the airport, and Steve gets out of the car to fetch Robin’s case from the trunk, but she’s already got it, is already standing in the parking lot, eyes wide.

“What’s gonna happen now?” she whispers.

Steve’s heart clenches; the last time she’d asked that had been as they sped to the hospital, Robin gripping his hand so tightly as Eddie lay unconscious.

Steve puts both hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna have the best time,” he says, deadly serious, “and then you’re gonna come back and tell me all about it.”

She laughs, right on the edge of becoming tearful. “O-okay.” She blinks several times.

“Don’t,” Steve says, faux-warningly, “or you’ll set me off, too.”

And it’s only partly a joke.

“Okay,” Robin says again, and then she’s hugging Steve tight, pressing a damp kiss to his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“God, me too. Every day.” Steve rocks her back and forth, makes sure her beret doesn’t get dislodged with the force of the hug.

When they break apart, Robin picks up her case—she pauses, then grins.

“Now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction…”

Steve chuckles. He spins her around so she’s facing the airport, then pats her on the back.

She starts walking.

Steve stays right where he is; he knows she’ll look back right at the last second—ah, there she goes. He shakes his head, laughs. Waves.

He drives back alone.

When he gets home, he barely has time to even think about it, because the kids have biked over after school, clamouring for him to order pizza from the moment he opens the front door, and Eddie’s shrugging apologetically with a grin, and it’s only later that Steve realises that the whole thing was probably coordinated beforehand.

And he’s fine, really, he’s absolutely fine until he steps into the hall to use the phone, and he unthinkingly orders the pizza him and Robin usually share: one half with pepperoni, the other half with mushrooms.

And then he has to finish the rest of the phone call with a lump in his throat, and when he hangs up, Eddie is watching him with a sad kind of smile.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me, goddamn it.” Steve shuts his eyes. “I was fine, I was fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie knocks their foreheads together gently. “I’ll miss her, too.”

And God, missing Robin does hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the joy Steve feels whenever he receives a letter from her. He laughs himself stupid the first time, because instead of just using sheets of paper, she’s sent multiple postcards wrapped in an elastic band, her handwriting all squished so she can fit everything in.

She writes like she talks, all rambling enthusiasm, and Steve cherishes every word.

He can tell she’s having so much fun. She enthuses about little cafés she’s found, a bookstore near Notre Dame; she spends multiple pages on art galleries, how she has the time to wander, to look at a painting again and again until the meaning reveals itself, it was like when I solved that ‘crossword’ in the mall, it suddenly just clicked, you know? I need you here next time, you’ll look at it from another angle, I wanna know what you think.

She sends Polaroids, too. There’s one of her in a white shirt with a trilby hat at a jaunty angle—Steve can tell she’s been in the sun, because there’s freckles all over the bridge of her nose. On the back of the photograph, she’s written Had a carefree kiss!

And Steve cries when he reads it, because he knows what it means: that Robin’s often spoken wistfully about how she’s never got to have that fleeting summer kind of love, where nothing is all that serious.

But she’s still so young, and life is finally light, and she gets to have it now.

Other photographs are sent to Eddie, with instructions that he should translate the French Robin’s written on them, à force de pratique, on y arrive, mon cher Édouard!

“I said literally once that French at school wasn’t, like, the worst,” Eddie says, pouting. “Didn’t realise that meant she was gonna torture me from across the world.” He frowns at a picture of Robin petting a grey cat, a bowl of food at its little paws. “And I tried translating whatever the fuck she’s written here, but I can’t work it out.”

“Not even a guess?” Steve says.

“I mean, yeah, but it sounds so stilted, man, I know it’s wrong. Like, who actually says where the silver cat feeds—you dick, stop laughing! What’s so funny?”

Two months pass, and Robin’s back soon, but not soon enough to catch Steve’s birthday. It’s not like he wants to have a huge party, anyway—he goes to Wayne and Eddie’s for dinner, and discovers Dustin leading a not-so successful ‘secretly bake a birthday cake,’ meeting at Max’s.

Everyone’s on their second slice of cake when the phone rings, and Steve knows instantly who it is from the way Eddie shouts, “Huh? What?”, like there’s a delay on the line. Then he beams and shouts, “Steve! Got a long distance call for you.”

Steve’s over in a flash.

“I promise I’ve got you something,” Robin says, slightly muffled—every so often a word will cut out, but Steve gets the gist. “I swear, I’m not awful, I was gonna post it, but then I had no idea how many stamps I’d need, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it forever to, like, the nightmare limbo of customs, so I thought when I come back, I can—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, “you didn’t need to get me anything. This is the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Robin says cheerfully. “You’re all sentimental in your old age. Happy Birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and the lump in his throat is back, but it’s not so bad; he can breathe through it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there’s a sound that Steve at first thinks is just from the bad quality of the line, but then he realises it’s Robin trying to stifle a yawn; “Wait, Jesus, isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there? Go to bed!”

She doesn’t listen, of course—they keep chatting, everyone in the room wants a turn on the phone, Robin teasing Eddie relentlessly for his French pronunciation.

And as Steve ends the call, he finds that the hurt of missing her has faded away into something else—knowing that there’ll be comings and goings in their lives all the time, adventures they’ll share and adventures they won’t. But they’ll always, always find their way back to one another.

Steve sets the phone into its cradle, pictures Robin doing the very same so many miles away.

Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine, you and me, Steve thinks, and feels the certainty of it right in his bones.

#steve and robin #steve and robin fic #steve and robin ficlet #robin buckley fic #steve harrington fic #eddie and robin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #background steddie

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 10 months

Text

Ding dong, here’s the final chapter! I have an epilogue in mind so that may come later, but for now, Thanks so so much for the response to this series and Enjoy!

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3

[talking] [talking passes]

Gai: You knew right away, didn’t you? Kka: Correct. I knew something was wrong when you weren’t trying to do situps or anything..... You little criminal, who smuggled that in for you? Gai: Naruto

Kks: How did you get him to do that? /I/ cant even get Naruto to do things. The tear tracks and shit eating grin are cute. Kinda wanna kiss you. Gai: Don’t let me be a hindrance to-

Gai: What are you giggling about? Kks: I just remembered

Kks: I get to hold over your head that I held mirai before you. Gai: You what?! Your first baby hold and I missed it? Get off of me Kks: So mean! Near death made you crabby. Gai: I won’t give into this Kks: You will, you always succumb. [gai sighs annoyed]

Gai: [Groans] When are they making you swear in as hokage? Kks: That’s not happening anymore thankfully. Gai: Huuuh?? Tenzou didn’t tell me that!

Gai: He said Lady Tsunade was retiring and you were the only choice. Naruto even tried to- Kks: Where do you think i’ve been all day? I convinced her to hold out until Naruto or whoever took over next. Gai: How did you smooth talk that one? Kks: I agreed to do her paperwork and cover for when she needs R&R. I also advised her to ditch the elders so she can actually run this shit show right. Gai: And they... took that well? The elders? Kks: No, not at all. Let’s just say I said some... things that made them backtrack on their decision.

Gai: YOu cant just say that and not tell me now!! I gotta know! Kks: Well... Homura: Absolutely not! Kks: If I am appointed, I’ll be replacing you regardless. Naruto certainly will. It’s inevitable. Koharu: Those kids don’t know how this village runs!

Kks:Those kids just won your war and this is how you speak of them. Or are “those kids“ only respectable to you when they’re eager to die at your beckon call and shut up. Elders: How dare- Watch your tongue! Kks: I won’t be someone who you can walk all over. Things will change. Just so my intentions are clear

Gai: What next?! Kks: That’s is really. Kinda tuned the rest out and passed out for 3 hours. Gai: Rival, I was so invested Kks: Sorry Gai: So you agreed to essentially split the work of a hokage but not publicly take the title? Kks: Mhm Gai: So cool! Apologies, I had just assumes since you were gonna accept last time Kks:[hums] Things changed. Konoha’s not on the brink of war, Tsunade’s still here. The village can breathe and rebuild now.

Kks: After a glimpse of the hassle and public attention the last time, I’m just... Not interested in any of that. I’ve never dreamed or desired to be the hokage. That was always something others wanted /for/ me. So I said no. I know you were happy for me so- Gai: Kakashi

Gai: I’m so very proud of you for expressing how you truly feel. You and tsunade will do amazing work supporting the next generation. Even If you chose to retire today, I’d still be just as proud of you. Also a selfish part of me if happy to have more time with you. [kks huffs]

Kks: I’m proud of you too, y’ know. All your hard work, you’re fucking incredible. Glad my dad made me talk to the cool kid in the green jumpsuit. 2nd coolest shinobi. Gai: Only took 25 years, but I’ve finally caught your eye! Kks: Yup, let’s move in together.

Gai: WHAT?1 Whu-! Kks: I’m fixing up dad’s old house with Tenzou. you should live there with me Gai: Why? Kks: Why are yo suspicious? I’m serious. Space, accessibility for you... I want you around more. Gai: Ok Kks: Ok? Gai: An exciting change is just what my youthful journey needs!! Kks: So yes?

Gai: I would love to share a home with you, Rival [kks giggling] What now?

Kks: Did I just make you succumb, Gai-kun? Gai: When can we have a match next, I need to consensually slap you in the head [kks laughs] Why did you say it like that? Kks: I’m sorry! Your pout looks so cute.... You are still moving in with me, right? That wasnt a joke.

Gai: I’m gonna let you sweat on that one awhile... [whimpers]

Kks: Love you so much, Gai

[gai snoring]

#KakaGai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #tsunade senju #shizune #//teeth

1K notes · View notes

leclsrc · 1 year

Text

sweet pea ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, dad charles/pregnancy au, fluff!, humor, super slight angst

word count: 4.6k

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?” “Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm.”

Or: you finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

notes... some nsfw allusions, nothing too bad. if pregnancy isnt ur thing this is all about it so.

auds here... i hated this for a long time so i thought id never post it hahahah but i will now bec i just redid some scenes and its okay in my eyes... also this is a bit overdue. i hope u like it everyone! :) title from this

It’s an hour before the race and you’re absent from your usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, you’re leaned against the wall of the tiny motorhome bathroom, silently digging your toes into your sandals. Charles knocks twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. He beams when he sees you, goes, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

He offers a hand, but you let your eyes shut, refusing to take it. You fail to even make eye contact, holding up the plastic stick that’d been in your clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s an omen, a portent, a cursed thing, casting your best friend into silence.

It’s cold and sterile in the bathroom—a stark contrast to where other families might find out they’re pregnant for the first time. You imagine a lemon yellow room bathed in noon sunlight and a happy balding doctor going “It’s positive, mama!” You picture a white family SUV in the parking lot, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness.

Instead, you get: “Do you have COVI—oh.”

“Yeah.” You say, pursing your lips. You swallow. “Oh.”

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?”

“Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm,” you counter, lifting yourself from the wall and bumping past Charles on your way out and into his room. He follows, brows knitted together, muttering something French under his breath.

“By that logic, that’d mean you’re an alien now, too. See, your kinks have finally met their match.”

You turn, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He almost collides with you, his eyes trained determinedly on the positive pregnancy test in his hand. You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, annoyed. “Seriously. Jokes? Right now?”

“I mean—”

“Whatever,” you say, waving him off. “Just go and drive. We can talk about this later.”

“I’ll dedicate the race to the little alien.” He giggles, mimicking a champagne spray, waving the invisible bottle back and forth toward your still-not-showing stomach. His accent switches to a measly English one when he goes, “Oh my Gawd! And there goes the alien Leclerc! Wins in first! From pole!”

“Get out. Or so help me God this baby is growing up without you.”

He ends up winning. (“Should I dedicate every race to the ali—” “Stop calling it that.”)

—

This is nothing but a final culmination of your very layered relationship with Charles. For years, you two had comfortably gone by the “best friends” label, with a hidden “with benefits” clause. You’d grown up together, separated only when you went to university in New York. Your re-arrival in Monaco, coupled with the both of you having grown older and more independent, marked the start of the sex.

It works like clockwork. To relieve stress, to celebrate, to cure boredom. At some point, both of you just inwardly admitted there was a certain weakness to it. A glass of wine, a stick of tobacco, and you’d give in to the temptation easily. Then, in the morning—sometimes in Monaco, other times in foreign countries where your body feels like it’s still three a.m.—you come to a mutual agreement to never do it again.

But you always do, laughing in between kisses, mumbling whispered nothings between the sheets (or in the bathtub, or against the wall, or—that one time—on the balcony.) And now there’s proof of it. Well, barely any yet, you realize, staring at yourself in the mirror of Charles’ hotel room. You turn and flop yourself onto the bed, but face-up. You inch yourself toward the headboard and lean against it in a half-seated position.

“I can’t believe I’m…” You sigh. Finally, the jokes fizzle. This is the real talk.

Charles burrows himself next to you, shirtless and in a stupid pair of boxers with red hearts all over them. You’d gotten them as a Valentine’s Day gag two years ago, but now you’re thinking of the future, of telling this kid their dad has a pair of heart-decorated boxers. Momentarily, and temptingly so, you weigh the options of telling Charles you were joking and running away before sunup.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. He’d learned the phrase from some obscure American rom-com, if you recall correctly. He uses it constantly, and for many years, improperly.

“I’ll give you them for free,” you say, breathless with worry. “We’re having a kid.”

A hand places itself on your knee. You almost jerk away, but you relax. “What do you want to do?”

“With?” You ask, emptily. There’s so much to do. “The baby?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, but also us.”

“We’re not dating,” you say, a bit sharper than intended.

“We could.” He pauses. “For its sake.” He pokes your abdomen.

“I don’t—” You inhale, trying to reorganize all your thoughts. “I don’t want people thinking we’re suddenly dating and engaged and happy just because I’m about to pop a Charles Jr. out. I mean, what are you going to do with your racing? With a kid on the way, how’s travel going to work? My job? My masters?”

“I think… I think you and I are lucky enough,” he says slowly, “to be able to weigh all these options without losing too much time or resources. I will support you no matter what, and you know that. And really, who cares if people think we ‘date’ because of the baby? You and I have been ‘dating’ since we were eleven.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until your laugh is mixed with a sob. You don’t know if you’re sad, pissed, overwhelmed, loved—or all four. “Okay? So… let’s both think about it. More you than me. And tomorrow, we can weigh this all over again. Let’s sleep on it. Remember? La nuit—”

“—porte conseil,” you finish tearily. “Okay.”

—

It’s two weeks later. Charles gets stuck in the paddock doing something or other for Sunday, so you’re left to your own devices in the parking lot. Five minutes of waiting turns to fifteen, then a half hour. That’s the catalyst for your mid-evening freakout—suddenly you’re thinking about all the times you and this weird thing inside you might be alone, left for work, by an athlete dad.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks when you’re heaving out another dry, panic-induced sigh. You turn, finding it familiar, and see Seb behind you. He may have been Charles’ teammate, but he’s a friend to you, too, and you find he’s always the most grounded in heated discussions.

“Seb,” you croak, caught off guard. “I’m fine.” Your voice breaks on the ine, and suddenly fat tears roll quietly down your face.

You tell him eventually, when he asks you again if you’re okay, making him the second person to know; still, the telling doesn’t get easier. You didn’t even tell Charles, you think. You merely shoved a Clearblue stick in his face and waited for the goofy reaction that would undoubtedly meet your ears.

“A baby,” he says softly. Happily. “Congratulations. This is a big step… but you don’t sound excited.”

“I mean,” you say in between waves of tears, “I am? I am. But—it happened so fast—we’re not even officially together—and Charles is—”

“Do I need to talk some sense into Charles?” Seb asks suddenly, concerned.

“No. He’s—he’s being great. Really supportive.” You wipe the tears and fresh ones come. “He’s happy. You know him. I think I’m just overwhelmed. I mean I’m the one who’s toting this baby around.”

“Take it one step at a time,” he muses. “See a doctor, work out non-race schedules with Mattia, get everything in order. If I know you, this baby will be in the best hands. And that’s not even counting Charles.” He pulls you in for a hug that lasts ages, one that says thank you and I love you better than words. You inhale, find the tears have stopped. You realize what comes after this—it’s telling everyone else. Lily, your best friend. Carlos. Charles’ family. Your family. The fans, oh God you’d forgotten about the fans. The social media announcements.

Charles strolls into the parking lot—runs, more like, with apologies spouting out of him, just two minutes after Seb leaves. He presses a delicate, apologetic kiss to your forehead, a hand on your stomach. “Hey,” he says. Then, to your abdomen, covered by a sweatshirt, “Hey there, alien.” You wonder what this will be like in two months. In seven. In nine.

—

You tell your families over lunch on a lucky off day. There is little surprise—just tears from both your moms and Arthur teasingly asking you to recount the details of conception. You’re in a sundress serving crostini when Pascale pulls you aside to the back of the yard.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, one of conviction and faith. “I always knew,” she says. “You’re going to be a wonderful mom.”

—

The drivers all find out one way or another, news trickling through the grapevine like honey. You share it to Lily first, and of course she tells Alex. You tell Lewis, too, over spring rolls that he claims will power up the baby when it’s born. Charles tells Pierre, who tells Yuki, and Carlos, who tells Lando. You tell Mick, who hugs you and says, “Oh my god! I already knew, Seb told me. I kept wanting to say congratulations.”

It’s a matter of two weeks before everybody knows. You know because you’ve barely taken a step into the dimly lit Ferrari motorhome when you halt and bolt back outside, harboring yourself a few metres away at a safe distance. Charles, who had been walking beside you, arm looped around your waist, turns, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“No. Nuh-uh. It smells in there.”

He sniffs the darkness, fumbles for the light switch. “No it doesn’t.”

“It smells like”—you grit your teeth, trying to identify the stench—“cheese. And champagne.”

“Why would it smell like che—”

He bangs the light open and illuminates a surprise party. The entire grid starts cheering, having unheard the entire conversation. There’s a huge banner that says CONGRATULATIONS PARENTS, and on a makeshift table in the centre, an assortment of cake slices, cheese, and flutes of champagne. Charles laughs with delight at the surprise, and then turns to find you squatting on the ground, trying to quell your stomach.

“Give me five,” you say, waving him off.

He returns after ten to find you still trying to calm the waves of nausea. You hear his footsteps and heave yourself up, standing to face him. “I asked Esteban and Max to evacuate the place of cheese and champagne. It’s just coffee and cake now. I even got three fans going.”

“Desolée,” you say, miserable. He wraps two big arms around you, nestling his chin atop your head. “I feel like a high-maintenance monster.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not the monster. The alien is.”

“I told you to stop calling it that,” you say, shutting your eyes and leaning into his touch. “Before it catches on.”

“Okay. E.T.? Spock? Open to suggestions.” Hand in yours, he walks you gently to the party, arising loud cheers again. In between sips of hot water, he says, “How about Chewy?”

—

The sense of smell proves to be useful in endeavours elsewhere.

“You never clean your car,” you say, lying horizontal on the leather seat and picking bits of dirt off. “I can smell month old Cheetos.”

Charles watches you obsessively nitpick at the detailing. “Last time you looked like this, I gave you a baby.”

“One more word,” you warn sharply.

“But seriously, be careful. The alien might get stressed.”

You brace yourself for the stupid words that will indubitably follow.

“Don’t worry. If it falls out I’ll plop it in a race car and it’ll be the next Hamilton. Imagine how light it’ll be.”

There it is.

—

Your first trip to the doctor’s is interesting. Charles insists on wearing a wig because he’s so easily recognized in Monaco, so now you look like you’re conceiving a baby with Weird Al Yankovic.

The doctor wheels in a cart with a monitor and all the necessary equipment, and even if it suddenly feels all too real, Charles squeezes your hand and you’re calm again. “I’m back,” she says, sliding into a wheely chair beside you and gelling your stomach.

“Hi, Back,” Charles responds in a crude, twangy Texan accent. The dad humor starts early, you suppose.

You grit your teeth to try and excuse his embarrassing behavior, but suddenly the monitor clicks open and there it is. It looks like the ones in movies, print-outs from friends, but at the same time it doesn’t. It looks different. Special. Yours. You zero in on it, breathless. That’s yours. The doctor says a couple minor things—nothing worrisome—and when you turn to relay it to Charles in case he’d zoned out, you find his face splotchy.

“Are you crying?”

“That’s ours,” he says, dipping down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s mine and Charles’, not mine and Bob Ross’,” you say, but you pull him closer anyway.

You order two printouts. The week next, you discover that Charles snuck back in to order an extra eight and has mailed them out to friends and drivers. You find out because Kylian Mbappe messages you “Due in April? Make me godfather!” on Instagram.

—

Gradually, you fall into a pattern of being queasy constantly. You get nitpicky with meals, and not irrationally—Charles had fed you a spicy hotdog and you’d gone half a bite before hurling it, and your breakfast, into the nearest toilet. You find solace in your cravings—all of which happen to be the same everyday.

Chinese takeout from just about any restaurant ends up being your best friend. You somehow can’t stomach anything but that specific cuisine, much to your own surprise. You find new ways to combine them with each other. Rice paper wrappers with chow mein. Hotpot with fried rice. If you’re not eating Chinese, you reduce your appetite to crackers or hot tea to avoid becoming too nauseated.

It’s poetic almost, the way he sets out the food carefully, in the order you like them. He always presses a kiss to your forehead after.

Around this time, you develop a crazy sex drive, waking Charles up at numerous points of the night, begging into his neck for something, anything. You last an hour before you’re asking again. This proves especially difficult before races, where Charles gives in a bit too easily and Carlos has to knock on the door, going “You have to finish somewhere else too, Charles!”

—

You insist Charles hold off on telling the fans, for a few months. It goes okay until your outfits on the paddock evolve into the variety of “Charles’ hoodies” to hide the increasingly evident bloat of pregnancy, and nosy fans start speculating all over Twitter. That’s when he sits you down and gently tells you he thinks it’s time you both announce it.

You’re sitting beside him in his hotel room, after two calls with his bosses, trying to formulate the proper announcement. You download PicsArt to make it pretty and clean and formatted—because the poor guy was about to post a Notes app screenshot—and then it’s on the Internet.

“She’s truly MOTHER,” one fan comments. Despite yourself, you press the heart icon beside it. It’s your bit of comfort when you catch sight of the nastier comments under the post.

—

You’re ironically gifted an ancient 80s aerobic exercise DVD for mums by Lily and Alex. You’re sure it’s older than you. Charles, though, in his valiant effort to connect with you and Chewy, does the routine everyday. You wake up to the electronic synthpop and Charles doing booty squats in the living room.

The permed instructor smiles through the scratchy 80s quality and goes, “You are rocking it, momma!”

“You hear that?!” Charles pants. “I am rocking it!”

—

Your first parenting fight ends up being one over the baby’s name. Yeah. Of all things. You don’t know why you’re so worked up about it, considering you don’t even know the gender of the baby yet. You arrive in Monaco to mark the first of five off days and Charles makes some random, offhand joke about naming the baby Daryl, and you suddenly start rambling on and on about how it’s too ugly, even if you’d never thought about names before now.

“It’s not going to be Daryl. It won’t be Daryl,” Charles says, hands on your shoulders. You heave another sob. “Please stop crying. You never cry. I’m a bit freaked out.”

“It’s—just—that,” you hiccup, “I—don’t—want to name a—our—baby—Daryl.”

“Yeah, yep,” he says, soothingly. “I got you. It’s not going to be Daryl. Never. We don’t need to decide anything. You gonna calm down for me?”

“I can’t—stop—crying,” you snivel desperately, burying your face in your hands.

He presses a firm kiss to the corner of your quivering lips, and you tug him in for a real one. You calm down when you pull away, exhaling. You gaze at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Blame the alien,” you sniff.

He kisses your stomach, which shows signs of pregnancy more and more as the days pass. “Hear that?” He whispers into the skin. “She’s blaming you, Chewy.”

—

Your next trip to the doctor’s is with your appointed private physician, Dr. Davies. Two minutes before the doctor walks in, you make a serious and compelling order for Charles to remove the Weird Al wig, which he does—but stores in your bag, “just in case.” It’s also his opporunity to play teacher’s pet and showcase how involved he is in your pregnancy, which, judging by the amount of weird cultish pregnancy books he’s burned through, is very much so.

“It’s gonna be a boy,” you declare while you’re being gelled up. You’re past the point of denial and bloat, now showing way too obviously. “Mom’s intuition.”

“Well, all the books say it’s a girl,” he says proudly.

“Yeah, they also say drinking lemon juice while trying to conceive gives you a girl. I’m sure scientific accuracy was their greatest objective.”

“Girl.”

“Boy,” you say dismissively.

“Girl.”

“Boy.”

“Girl.” It’s not Charles this time, it’s the physician, with a small smile on his face.

You squeeze Charles’ hand so hard you’re half sure it’s chipped off and fallen to the tiled floor. You’re having a girl. Normally Charles would turn and make some petty statement about he’d been right, but—you’re having a girl. A pretty baby girl. You almost can’t believe it. He totally can’t, pressing kisses to your hair and face.

You let him buy pink paint later that day.

—

You predict it, but it comes—fights and squabbles over nothing at all.

First it’s about work, then housing, then his job, then the danger of his job. It’s petty, and usually you storm off in an emotional cloud of irrationality, brought down after a talk, a play-by-play, compromise, reassurance. It’s hard when you’re carrying around a human being, you want to say. Try being in my shoes.

“Can we talk?” Charles says, in the thick of another fight. You’re on the balcony of your flat, mulling over nothing at all. Your stomach is heavy, you’re always exhausted, you never feel pretty anymore even if Charles is always unfailing at telling you you are.

“Okay,” you murmur, turning. You’ve already developed a habit of placing your hands on your bump always.

He inhales. “I’m scared.”

This is a first. And you realize—in these six months of being pregnant, Charles has been your rock, but has never expressed much fear until now. He’s always been good. Great. Supportive. “Of what?”

“Of—becoming a dad.” He pauses, as if to weigh his words. “I don’t have… a blueprint anymore.”

It dawns on you what he’s talking about. You accept the hug when it comes, holding the nape of his neck. He isn’t crying, but is close to it. His voice is shaky when he continues, whispers against your ear. “What if I don’t know what to do?”

“Baby,” you say, weakly. You push him gently so he’s looking into your eyes. “If the way you’ve taken care of me the past how many months is any indication of how you’ll treat this alien, I know she’s in good hands. You’ve got so much of your dad in you. You’re caring, sweet, you even got a headstart on the dad jokes.” He laughs. “I want this. And the only reason I ever did was because I knew you’d be with me, being an amazing dad, and an even better…”

“Boyfriend,” he says. His eyes hold hesitance—but you quell it with a nod.

“Boyfriend,” you echo. “For now.”

—

The nursery looks like a nursery in February. It was a storage room in Charles’ flat that had really, at some point, become yours, too. Full of boxes and old suits and memories, it’d taken weeks to properly store everything and make way for the furniture. Charles, of course, insists on painting it himself, with the shade of pink he purchased especially for the room.

He hits his head twice and touches the wet paint. There’s a handprint embossed above the bassinet. (Yours is next to it, at his insistence.)

—

You’re a yoga ball by mid-March, having trouble sleeping and dealing with everything being swollen. Charles helps you through it all, turning the heating up and down every time you get even a bit scratchy with the temperature in the flat or motorhome. Your cravings also morph again at this point, into rigatoni that Charles cooked sometime over winter; he requests Ferrari add an induction stove to every race weekend motorhome that you can make it to so he can cook it at your beck and call.

The season begins. Every race is dedicated to Chewy, and every race is won.

—

It’s early morning in late March when Dr. Davies sends you an email with a one-liner that sounds firm enough to set you and Charles in place after two races that involve you being flown around.

Absolutely NO more air and long car travel for Mommy.

“Can we manage?” You mope, rereading the email, genuinely distressed as you watch your boyfriend pack for Australia. It’s a long haul flight, with only one stopover in Zurich, and you’re filled with anxiety. There isn’t a compromise—until you’re popping the baby out, Charles needs to try and score the title.

“You know I can always drop out of races,” he says softly. “That’s what reserve drivers are for.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue. “I’m just worried.”

“You’re not due ’til the 12th,” he assures you. “I’ll be back then, even if it means dropping a race.”

He leans down and kisses you softly, rubbing your shoulders and ankles. “I’ll be back before you know it. Get some sleep first, okay?” He repeats the sentiment to your stomach, adding a kiss and a bye bye Chewy. You drift off to a sorrowful sleep when he departs, a slow ache in your lower back blooming that feels just like many of the other slow aches lately.

You’re up after a half hour with discomfort. You suppose something is just up with your sleep position, and readjust yourself. The discomfort sharpens, then melts. You sigh with relief, a long whistley exhale, and sleep again.

Bliss lasts about three hours, then you’re up again, groaning. You’re not due for a prenatal yoga class until four in the afternoon, and your body isn’t used to being awake. Hell, it’s not used to being this pained. You shift once, twice, trying to sleep with fruitless and exhausting attempts. It takes a while, but in between shifting positions and trying to make yourself yawn, it registers.

“Chewy.” You groan, cupping your gigantic bump. “Seriously?”

—

The first person you call is Charles, naturally. He should be in Zurich, but maybe signal is spotty or something, because none of your texts or calls ping. So you move down the list to the person you know will be in Monaco and not off racing, like everybody you know is—and it just so happens to be Dr. Davies.

You always thought Charles would be nowhere but beside you when you went into labor. But you’re here clutching the straps of your overnight bag being driven to the hospital, exhale, inhale, try Charles, try Carlos. Exhale, inhale. Try Charles. Try Carlos. Your contractions don’t quell; they only grow in intensity and you wince the whole ride through.

“Looks like it’s going to be a fast labor,” Dr. Davies says when he’s done checking you in and making sure everything is in order. You nod, breathless and flushed. You’ve called your mum here and she’s on the way with Charles’ but—Charles is the issue.

“I will weld myself shut if it means I’m giving birth without the dad,” you beg. “Without Charles.”

Charles, who picks up after forty-five minutes of radio silence. He’s in the jet. Give him an hour. “I will pilot this plane myself if I have to. Don’t do anything—don’t make any decisions without me.”

“Too fucking late.” You say, wheezy with labor. “I’m putting N/A on the certificate.”

“You carry Chewy around for nine months and I don’t get to meet her first?” He asks, in a last-ditch effort to cheer you up. You tear up, splotchy and red all over.

“We can’t call her Chewy. We never discussed names. And oh God it can’t be Daryl,” you say, whimpers turning into half-sobs of overwhelm and yearning. You’re scared. You need Charles, who’s been with you for every week, every milestone, every kick, every rigatoni craving. But he’s not here. You have Dr. Davies, and in five minutes you’ll have your mum and Pascale, but they are not Charles. You breathe heavy into the phone.

“I love you,” you say finally. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says gently. “I love you. I’ll be there, okay? Just—just wait for me.”

—

Lil 3s ago

does it hurt?

i know it does but i’m trying to make u feel better

love from houston. i will call you ASAP.

You 1s ago

yeah it hurts so bad

apparently they don’t do epidurals

fuck europe

—

In between quiet periods and intense ones, you finally reach your peak. A nurse takes one glance and nods and your bed is disengaged and wheeling around again. Pascale squeezes your left hand, your mum the other. “Wait!” You pant, voice spent, totally tired, flustered.

The nurses exchange a look. “Ma’am—”

“No, you don’t understand. The dad, my—the dad—he’s out—and I don’t.” You pause, the onset of a cry coming on. Pascale takes the lead, firm, asking for a few more moments of patience.

“I can’t do this,” you say hopelessly, throwing your flushed head back. “No. Not without Charles.”

“I’m here,” Charles says, bounding through the door. He’s in official Ferrari gear and his hair is disheveled and he's clearly been crying. Had Chewy not been wedging her way out, you would’ve kissed him right then. You feel nothing but love.

“You’re a sneaky fucker,” you say instead, and the rest is a blur.

—

It’s an hour before the race and Charles is absent from his usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, he’s leaned against the wall of the motorhome, silently digging his toes into his shoes. You knock twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. You beam when you see him. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

His two girls.

Julia stretches out a chubby hand, but he smiles teasingly, refusing to take it. He holds eye contact, holding up the ring that’d been in his clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s a symbol, a sign, a blessed thing, casting his girlfriend into silence.

It’s a bit dark—a stark contrast to where other guys might propose for the first time. He imagines a Caribbean beach bathed in sunset. He pictures a Jeep in the sand, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness. He figures if you don’t like this, he’ll pay for that.

Instead, he gets: “You’re a doofus—oh.”

“Yeah.” He says, pursing his lips. He swallows, gives you the biggest smile of his life. “Oh.”

It’s perfect.

#f1 #leclsrc1000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

3K notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

Let Me Apologize To You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Rafe will do anything to get Y/N back in his life.

Masterlist

Everyone has heard about the fight Y/N and Rafe had two days ago. It’s easy for anyone to notice his sullen and grouchy mood. People walk around him on edge, not knowing when he is going to explode. It takes everything in him to not send Andrew to the hospital for what his mere presence has done to Rafe’s relationship. But Rafe knows that wouldn’t get Y/N back. If he wants to get her back, then he has to do the opposite of what his instincts want. It’s easy to get Andrew’s dorm number when people are afraid of you and even easier to get into the dorm hall for the same reason. Rafe makes a mental note to have his dad donate some money to improve security in Y/N’s dorm. His hand goes to knock, but Andrew opens the door, appearing like he is about to leave. Andrew freezes when he sees Rafe in the doorframe. “What are you doing here?” Andrew questions. Rafe’s fist tightens, “I want to talk to you.” “I have to go to class,” Andrew protests, trying to shove his way passed Rafe. Rafe grabs his arm, “Please, I need to talk to you. Y/N won’t talk to me, so I need to do this.”

Andrew stops and gives Rafe the chance to speak. No one other than Y/N has heard Rafe say the word please. “I’m sorry for being a jerk to you. I just love Y/N so much and I know you like her too. It was a reflection of my own insecurity and not your or her personality.” Andrew takes in Rafe’s apology, “You know holding on so tight to her will cost you.” “I know and when she forgives me, I’ll work on my jealousy,” Rafe nods. Andrew agrees, “Good, and just so you know. I have a fiancée. What you think is lust for your girlfriend is actually just amazement at her brilliance. I can think those things about her without wanting to get into her pants.” Without letting the conversation continue, Andrew heads toward the elevator for his class.

———

He didn’t want to go to Y/N’s dorm. He knows she will feel boxed in and forced to talk to him. Rafe will get her back, but he doesn’t want her to feel coerced into forgiveness. Y/N has a schedule she likes to stick to; Rafe is the only one who could really get her to step outside of it. It’s Saturday. She’ll be at the cafe, reading her book. He doesn’t want to have this discussion with her in a public place, yet he knows it will help her feel more comfortable. He finds her usual booth in front of the window. She gets up bright and early to get this spot every week. She loves how the light shines through the window onto the table. His butt slides across the leather seat so that he is facing her. She looks up at the man in front of her with an eye roll. “If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve texted or called you,” she speaks without looking up from her book. Rafe gives her a small smile and looks at the baristas to tell them to send over his usual. He hung out enough here with Y/N for the workers to be able to read him like a book.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I need to talk to you. So let me apologize to you, Angel. Please,” he reasons. A small part of her wants to hear him grovel about how sorry he is. Wants his presence with her while she reads. She sighs, “You have three minutes.” Her book closes with a loud thud. “That’s all I need. I’ve already apologized to Andrew for being so rude to him. So, now, it’s your turn. I’m sorry, Angel. For making you believe that I didn’t trust you. For trying to force you to do something. I’m sorry for everything,” Rafe apologizes, reaching his hand out to touch hers. His warmth envelopes her and causes her to wish he was on her side of the booth with his arm around her. She shakes her head, “An apology isn’t enough, Rafe. We both know that this isn’t going to be the last time you get jealous. So what’s going to change?”

“Me. I’m going to learn how to keep my mouth shut when I get jealous. And only speak up if I think you are actually in danger. You have my permission to slap me if I don’t.”

She can’t help but giggle at his small joke at the end, knowing he would hold her to that promise. As much as she hates to admit it, she can’t stay mad at him for that long and she appreciates him taking the steps to say he is sorry without being provoked. “I don’t know if I believe you though. I think you need to grovel a little bit more,” she teases. Her hand finds the corner of the book and she plays with the pages. Rafe would grovel all the way to Sunday if he had to. His sneakers plant on the bench seat, squeaking against the leather, and stands up. It draws the attention of everyone around them. Y/N’s hand slaps over her mouth as she tries to contain her shock. “I was an asshole to my angel and I would like everyone in this coffee shop and her to know that I am very very sorry,” he screams. His hands are spread wide, looking around the room to everyone. His eyes find Y/N again with a grin and he sits back down. “Is that enough grovelling?” She disagrees, wanting to see how far he would go for her.

It’s his turn to chuckle and he gets on his knees on the side of the booth. His hands cup together in a plea, “I am so so so sorry, Angel. Please, forgive me.” She knows he would stay like that all day if she wanted, but she finally lets him out of his misery with a nod of his head. He shoots up from the ground and scoots himself beside her. He moves so far that she is squished against the window. He pulls her into a hug and his lips begin an assault all over her face. “So you’re my girlfriend again?” he questions with a hopeful tone. Her lips find his cheek, “Technically, I didn’t break up with you. All I said was maybe we shouldn’t be together.” “You are one little trickster, Angel,” Rafe states, bringing his lips back to her skin. “I had to make you realize how serious I was.”

“That you did, Angel. That you did.”

His forehead rests on her temple and he kisses her cheek, “Thank you for taking me back, Angel. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Rafe.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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lipglossanon · 8 months

Text

Magic Man

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

boyfriend’s dad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

ao3 request from do; I hope you like it! And thank you for your patience! 😭 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cheating, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, slight noncon (but reader’s into it, just pretending to be reluctant), nipple teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️

title from Magic Man by Heart (seemed fitting haha)

PSA: I definitely don’t condone cheating; find it vile to be quite frank. In this case reader is breaking up with the guy just hasn’t talked to him yet when stuff happens (not saying it’s right but she’s not going to stay in the relationship at the least)

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Since an extended holiday weekend’s on the way, your boyfriend invited you to stay with him at his dad’s place.

“He’s been bugging me to visit for ages and I thought it’d be fun for you to meet him,” he tells you over the phone.

Frowning at your history book, you tap your pen against it, “You sure this isn’t too fast? Or weird? I mean we’ve only been dating for a month.”

He laughs flippantly, making you frown harder even though he can’t see it.

“It’ll be fine,” you hear a muffled voice from his end, “Jeremy’s here with pizza, gotta go. We’ll talk more later!”

The line beeps letting you know he hung up before you could even say goodbye. Opening up your calendar app, you mark off this weekend. At the very least, it would be nice to leave campus for a bit. Although you have a good feeling this’ll probably be the last time you’ll spend any quality time with Keith.

He’s a nice enough guy, but still acts really immature and you’re not really interested in that especially when you’re only dating casually.

The weekend rushes up on you and before you can say bon voyage, Keith picks you up and drives you the couple of hours upstate to his dad’s house. It’s a nice neighborhood and his dad has a lovely home.

You know it’s lovely since Keith basically ditched you here to go hang out with some old high school buddies for the evening.

“Promise I’ll be home tomorrow and I’ll show ya around!” he kisses your cheek as he heads out the door, “my dad will be home shortly so you can get to know each other.”

You give him a tight smile as he shuts the door, muffled laughter and talking dissipating as he gets into his friend’s car.

You flop down on the couch and scroll through your phone, certain now that you’re dumping Keith as soon as you guys get back to campus.

Later, the doorknob jiggles and you raise up to look over the couch into the entryway. All of the spit in your mouth dries up when you actually see Keith’s dad for the first time. He’s built, big biceps and thick forearms, not to mention his chest and shoulders and thighs and—

You pull yourself away from ogling your boyfriend’s dad, even if said boyfriend’s a complete ass.

“Hi, you must be the infamous girlfriend I’ve heard so much about,” he walks further into the house after kicking off his shoes, “the name’s Leon.”

“Hi,” you clear your dry throat, “yep, that’d be me.”

You give him an awkward little wave as his gaze roves around the living room before settling on you, a more serious look on his handsome face.

“Where’s Keith?”

“Ah,” you give him a bashful grin, “he wanted to hang out with some buddies so he—“

“Ditched you?” His blue eyes narrow as he drums his fingers against his leg, “just a second, sweetheart.”

He steps back outside and you feel your heartbeat amp up from the nickname. Straining your ears, you can sort of hear Leon’s low voice but not what’s actually being said. After a few minutes, he comes back inside looking irritated.

He walks over to the couch and rubs the back of his neck, “I’d like to apologize for my son’s shitty behavior. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to convince him to come back and actually spend time with the pretty girl he decided to bring home.”

Your fingers tingle as shyness steals over your demeanor, “Not your fault. Thanks though, I appreciate it.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose letting you steal this moment to take in his chiseled jaw and spot a few freckles on his neck that you’d love to kiss.

“Well, I can order takeout and we can watch something,” he offers with a half smile, “not the company you probably planned for.”

You smile at him, “That sounds really nice, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Oh uh,” a small pink blush fans put across his cheeks, “please just call me Leon.”

The afternoon passes pretty lazily between Chinese takeout and some cheesy action movies. Leon’s a lot of fun; way more interesting than Keith, but you try not to dwell on the fact you’re starting to crush on his dad.

Leon eventually offers you something a little stronger to drink which you gladly take him up on the offer. He must carry some high shelf liquor cause you feel the effects pretty quickly with a nice little buzz. At least, it’s the excuse you give when you slide into Leon’s lap and grind your wet cunt against his thigh as you kiss his neck.

“Baby, what about Keith?”

He doesn’t move you away but holds your hips still on top of him.

“Gonna break up with him,” you murmur, “he’s a shitty boyfriend. No offense.”

“None taken,” he laughs, kissing you softly, letting you lick into his mouth.

From there it’s a sloppy makeout session on his couch as you dry hump his thigh. He picks you up to let you straddle his chubbed cock, rocking your hips back and forth until you find the rhythm he likes.

His phone rings and although he ignores it at first, with the constant noise he pulls away to check the caller ID.

“It’s—I’ve gotta take this, honey,” he pats your hip and helps you move off of him.

Embarrassment floods your body as you see how wet his pants are from your dirty grinding.

“I’m so sorry,” you shakily stand up, “I’ll—it won’t happen again.”

“Wha—“

“I’m going to get out of your hair,” you give him a wobbly smile, “it’s slutty of me to not at least breakup with Keith first. It’s pretty fucked up actually.”

Reality’s a cold shower wiping out your arousal in a flash.

“Goodnight, Mr. Kennedy.”

You disappear up the stairs toward the guest bedroom Keith pointed out earlier; you definitely weren’t going to share his room with him now since you practically fucked his dad on the couch. Grabbing your luggage from Keith’s room, you beeline it for the guest room.

You change out of your clothes feeling horny and gross. As much as you don’t like Keith, you feel a little bad to just do something so scandalous.

You hear two pairs of footsteps out in the hall making you pause as you shut the light off.

“Fuck off, dad, what does it matter if I got a little drunk,” Keith slurs, “I wasn’t driving!”

“You’re irresponsible is what,” Leon’s deep tone makes your thighs press together, “you even left your girlfriend here alone for god’s sake!”

“She’s fine,” he scoffs, making you roll your eyes, “‘sides where is she?”

“In the guest room,” Leon states bluntly, “I heard her go in there a little bit ago.”

You hold your breath as you hear Keith stumble closer to your door.

“Go to your room,” Leon’s sharp tone stalls Keith’s footsteps and you listen as he stumbles back over to his room.

“You’re a fucking buzzkill, y’know that?” Keith mutters as he shuts his door hard.

“What a fucking brat,” you hear Leon mumble to himself.

Your heartbeat picks up when he pauses outside your door but then smooths out as he walks off down the hallway.

“Wow,” you whisper to yourself, turning off the light and climbing into bed.

You toss and turn for what seems forever until you settle on your side. Cunt still thrumming with arousal, you slowly slide your hand into your panties, teasing your fingers across your swollen clit.

Losing yourself to the sweet pleasure drifting through your body, you miss the door opening until a warm, bulky body slides in behind you.

“Want some help?”

Before you answer, a hand slips down your body to cover the one you have in your panties.

“Gotta keep quiet.”

You press your lips together tightly as Leon spoons you from behind. He puts his hands inside your panties to push yours away and slowly touches your clit. You’re laying on one arm so with the one he shoved away you try to grab his wrist to stop him but he pinches your clit roughly.

“So wet,” he whispers hotly in your ear. “What were you thinking about, huh?”

“Nothing,” you whisper back, “now s-stop and get out please.”

“Nah you like it too much,” he gloats letting his fingers circle your wet clit over and over.

You can’t really argue with him as you find yourself pressing your hips into his hand. Your hand is still gripping his wrist only now it’s to hold his arm while his fingers tease across your cunt. You honestly don’t mind picking up where you left off, even though it feels dirty.

“Mmm so fucking sexy, y’like your own boyfriend’s dad playing with your pussy, huh,” he mocks.

“N-no s’wrong, L-Leon,” you hiss, eyes clenching shut as he pinches your clit again.

“Didn’t seem to think so earlier when you were grinding that wet pussy on me.”

Slick gushes from your cunt, feeling hot embarrassment and arousal from the truth of his words. You feel his dick press against your ass as he rolls his hips to grind against you.

Leon groans into your neck, hot breath fanning across your skin causing goosebumps.

“Roll over and show me your tits you little tease,” he rasps in your ear.

You ignore him and try to shove his arm away, but he grabs your hip and forces you to your back. He slides an arm underneath you then throws a leg over your hips to keep you from moving or pushing him away. His hand goes back down and dips underneath your panties to play with your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart, show me your tits already.”

As much as you try to fight it, arousal is flooding your body. And it’s not like you aren’t interested in him. You feel more slick leak into your panties to coat Leon’s fingers.

Your arms and legs are limited in their movement, but you’re able to do as he says. Feeling hot, you pull up your top to expose your breasts and hard nipples to his dark gaze.

“There we go,” he groans, “look at those sweet fucking nipples.”

He grinds his dick into your thigh as his fingers rub across your swollen clit.

“Really wanna taste’em,” he murmurs in your ear, “just suck on those pretty nipples til you’re creaming my fingers.”

You moan and arch your back, pressing your heels down into the bed.

“C’mon, I’ll treat you right if you just let me,” he stops teasing your cunt and drags wet fingers up to flick your hard nipples.

You’re panting now, hips writhing from the stimulation.

“Let me suck’em baby.”

You bite your lip, brows furrowed with worry.

“If you keep me waiting, I’m not gonna be nice,” he bites at your shoulder, blunt teeth scraping your skin.

“O-okay,” you agree, feeling a sick thrill at the low groan Leon lets out.

He moves his leg and helps twist your body towards him so you’re facing each other. Ducking his head, he drags his mouth across the swell of your breasts.

“Hang on a sec,” he mutters into your chest.

Leon’s hand moves to his boxers and pushes the band down until his cock’s free. He grabs your panties and pulls them down until he can slip his dick inside. You gasp at the feel of his hot cock rubbing all along your pussy, slipping in between your wet folds to drag against your clit and leaky hole.

“There we go,” he grins at you, “try not to let me slip inside that wet little cunt. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Wide eyed, you shake your head no even if the thought of your boyfriend’s dad plowing you in this bed is driving you a little crazy. His eyes never leave yours when his mouth dips down to suck on your sensitive nipples. As you feel the hot wet suction, your eyes slip close with a whine.

You grind yourself down on Leon’s cock, dripping slick all over him. You feel him moan into your breasts as he slowly drags his dick back and forth inside your panties. The head of his dick leaks precum making your panties even stickier.

Your hands drag through Leon’s soft hair, nails scratching at his scalp, as you sigh and mewl from his mouth suckling at your sensitive buds.

“G-good, so good,” you arch your back, pressing more of your breasts into his face.

The next time he catches your gaze you can see his pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes and a pink blush spread across the bridge of his nose. Leon bites and sucks a hickie under the curve of your breast, teeth digging into the soft skin.

You gasp at the dull ache, hands tightening in his hair to pull him away.

“Don’t be like that,” his voice is low and raspy, tongue lapping at the bruise he left, “you were just gonna leave me with blue balls earlier, weren’t you honey? So mean to tease me with that wet drippy cunt.”

You whine and arch up into him more, “We really shouldn’t do this.”

“Why?” his grin is wicked as he kisses across your breasts, “don’t want my son knowing your little pussy’s aching for my cock?”

You gasp sharply as he roughly sucks on your nipples, swapping back and forth until they’re puffy and sore. As he works his teeth and tongue on your hard buds, he slips your panties off leaving your lower half completely naked.

He grinds his cock up against your slick hole making you part your legs further.

“Want it, sweetheart?” he moves up to whisper in your ear as he rubs the tip of his dick against your clit, “want my fat cock splitting you open? Show you how a real man fucks a gorgeous girl like you.”

His words make your brain feel like mush, nodding up at him before you can think twice.

“Please, Mr. Kennedy, want you to fuck me,” you whimper, nails digging into his shirt.

He groans and eases the head into your slick cunt, “Just call me Leon, baby. Y’r gonna make me cum too soon calling me mister.”

Your body goes hot all over as he rocks his hips against yours, fucking himself deeper into your clenching heat.

Wanting to tease, you pout up at him, “Sorry Mr. Kennedy— I mean Leon.”

Growling, he thrusts hard and buries himself balls deep inside your pussy, making you squeal.

His palm covers your mouth, “Wanna get us caught? Want him walking in to see his dad fucking his girlfriend’s tight little cunt?”

You clamp down on his dick hard and he clicks his tongue.

“What a slut,” he murmurs, making you buck your hips up.

He keeps your mouth covered as he slowly fucks your cunt, really drawing your attention to how split open your pussy feels. You constantly whine and moan as his dick bullies into your fluttering walls again and again.

“You’re so fucking tight, honey,” he grunts, “never had a cock this big stuffing this slutty pussy?”

You shake your head no as best you can and he chuckles.

“S’okay, you got one now.”

He moves his hand away to drop his mouth down onto yours. Trading sloppy, wet kisses between your moans, his fat dick ruts into your squelching pussy, dragging all along the spongy spot of your cunt that makes you clench down on him.

Your mind goes fuzzy, completely oblivious to everything but the orgasm slowly coiling in your belly.

“Cockdrunk already?” He laughs, “nothing but a sweet little hole to dump my load into, right pretty girl?”

You shiver and cling harder to him, “Yes, please, want you t’cum in me.”

“Mmm don’t worry, your hot little cunt’s getting creamed,” he kisses you messily, hips snapping harder against you.

Leon fucks you quick and deep now, plunging his cock into your sopping wet hole making him have to cover your mouth again for being too loud. His other hand moves between your bodies to flick and rub your sensitive clit. Your head thrashes back and forth, tears running down your temples as he drives you closer and closer to climaxing.

“That’s it, sweet girl, let that little pussy squeeze down on me, bet it feels so good,” he goads you, fingers rubbing over your pudgy clit until your back bows off the bed.

You cry out behind his sweaty palm, eyes fluttering shut as the coil in your belly snaps, orgasm hitting you. Legs clamping around his waist, your cunt clenches down on his cock like a vice, milking him as slick gushes around his throbbing length.

“Oh so good, such a good girl for me,” he pants, hands grabbing your thighs to press you open more, “gonna fucking cum in you baby, watch it spill out of your tight hole.”

You whine pitifully as he rails his dick into your sensitive pussy until, with a low groan, he thrusts deeply and spills, hot and sticky, all in your pulsing walls. He sighs as he rocks against you, stuffing your cunt with jizz until it leaks out around his cock.

Pulling out with another sigh, he looks down at you with a sly grin.

“Nice that we’ll be spending the weekend together, huh sweetheart.”

#lipglossanon #Ao3 request #lipglossmasterlist #one shot #boyfriend’s dad!leon s kennedy #boyfriend’s dad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #boyfriend’s dad!leon s kennedy smut #boyfriend’s dad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #boyfriend’s dad #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #cheating

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