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#like how much do you want it now. what even is *it* any more. do you know. do you let yourself ask.
fairene · 2 days
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passenger princess / ln4
established relationship lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
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in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.
prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡
a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.
wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)
things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 
but he knew. he knew exactly when.
you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.
that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 
you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 
“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 
she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 
p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.
“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”
a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 
“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”
the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 
what you wanted,
your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.
as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 
you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.
“mate?”
lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 
lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 
your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 
you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 
he found himself smiling bright. 
do you want kids? 
he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?
“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.
when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 
lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 
the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 
“when?”
lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 
max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 
“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 
max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 
lando felt giddy.
you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 
p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 
but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 
“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 
you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 
the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 
you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”
“because he hasn’t asked me.”
“why don’t you ask him?” 
“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.
she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”
now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”
she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 
you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 
with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 
“are you going to have babies?”
“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 
she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”
“of course i do, p.”
she gasped.
“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 
you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 
she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 
“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 
“nothing.” 
but it wasn’t nothing.
lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 
“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 
she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”
and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 
too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.
the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 
in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.
you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 
relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 
your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 
“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 
“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 
and a good one at that. 
qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.
flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.
lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 
“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 
you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 
“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 
he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 
‘daddy’
you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 
lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 
you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 
“wore it for you.” 
the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 
and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 
you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 
the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.
as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 
when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 
“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 
you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 
lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 
you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 
“you’ll win this for me?”
he scoffed, “always.” 
you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 
you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 
“don’t care.” 
you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 
he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 
“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 
“what?”
“nothing…” she looked away.
“lily.” 
“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 
“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 
the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.
your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 
god…
was there anything more prideful than that?
surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 
the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 
there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 
a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 
the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 
“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 
you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 
he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 
after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 
you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 
“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 
“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 
“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 
“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 
you gave her a heart-warming smile. 
“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.
“are you sure…?” 
marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 
“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
is everyone asking that today?
you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 
“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.
“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.
“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 
“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 
“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 
“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 
you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 
it did. 
he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 
your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 
fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 
you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.
he overheard the conversation, too. 
“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 
fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.
yeah, he’s fucked. 
after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 
you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 
his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.
“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 
“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 
you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.
lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 
he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 
you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.
“well, go on, then.” 
“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 
you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 
“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 
“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 
“what was that, baby?” 
“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 
“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 
you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 
 “you heard…all of it?” 
“the gist.” 
you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 
“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 
“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 
when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 
“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 
“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 
he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”
you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”
“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 
though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.
you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 
“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.
“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 
the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 
“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 
you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.
“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 
you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.
it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.
“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.
 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 
down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 
“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 
“thank you,” the woman said.
“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 
the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 
jackpot..!!
you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 
the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 
“you think so?” 
she nodded her affirmation. 
“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 
“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 
“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”
she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 
you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”
“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.
you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 
he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 
he didn’t answer you. 
you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 
it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 
“what are we—”
you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 
“husband?” 
oh
oh…!
well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 
he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 
“don’t know what you’re—”
he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”
your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 
you mewled. 
“what was that?”
your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 
“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 
“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 
he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.
“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.
“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 
“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 
his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 
he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 
his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.
the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—
but it did. 
he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 
you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 
with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 
but this…this is not what you expected. 
he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 
it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 
“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 
you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 
“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”
the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 
“good, baby, you learn fast.” 
you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 
“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 
his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 
“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 
you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 
“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 
“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 
you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 
“daddy.” 
if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 
you were his undoer,
the key to his shackled restraint,
the sun to his universe.
it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 
lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 
but seeking the future together?
heaven incarnate.
despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 
“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 
he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 
lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 
because he was yours. 
then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 
“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 
“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 
with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 
you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 
echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 
“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 
“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 
his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 
he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 
“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 
your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 
“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 
“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 
“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 
your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 
“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 
“lando…”
his head shot up from his daze. 
“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 
“what, pretty girl?”
your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 
he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”
“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 
it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 
“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 
“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 
with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 
out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 
you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 
“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 
“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 
he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”
you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 
he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 
you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 
his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”
you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 
it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 
when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 
you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 
“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.
“they should auction it.” 
you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 
“need all that room for you.” 
“cheesy.” 
lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 
he pulled out a bracelet.
a friendship bracelet. 
“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:
“MOMMY”
“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 
he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 
you gasped. “lando!” 
“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 
“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 
lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”
“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 
after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 
he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 
“what, lando?” 
he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”
“what?” 
“you’re dripping.”
you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 
you really hoped it wasn’t. 
tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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lcriedlastnight · 2 days
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Hi can i pls request a lando x reader where he mentions in many interviews that he wants an army of kids and the camara always pans to other drivers teasing reader
ofc you can baby <33 thanks for helping me celebrate! here's that kiss i promised xoxo
requests are open!
852 words.
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it wasn't unknown that lando wanted kids. it's not like he went out of his way to to talk about having children either, he just went on half an hour tangents anytime an interviewer brought up the topic is all. you didn't find out just how many until you decided to ask him about it one night, not long after lando had gotten slandered on twitter for being 'obsessed' with having a mini version of himself running around.
"so.. you know how you've said you want kids?" you start, voice a little hesitant knowing he was a bit peeved about the bullying he was getting online for that very thing. if looks could kill you swear you would be a dead girl.
"don't you start." he groans, eyes rolling so hard to the of his head you thought they may get stuck.
lando, who had just gotten ready for bed, slips in beside you and you immediately know he's not actually pissed off at you because he is pulling your arm to get you as close to him as he physically could.
"i don't mean it like that, i just wanted to ask you about it." lando watches as you strain your neck up to be able to see his reaction from your very comfortable position on his chest. it does bring the smallest of smiles to his lips.
with a joking sigh he asks "what do you want to know?".
"well, i guess the most important one is-"
"if i want them with you?" lando interrupts, sending your brows into your hairline. you smack him on the back of the head and he just laughs like it was actually funny. dickhead.
"no! how many you want. but now i don't want any with you if they're going to turn out like you." you cross your arms over your chest, trying to convince him you actually were in a huff. a strong hand running down your front seconds after ruins your plans for any further annoyance though.
lando hums in thought before he answers your question. his hand now drawing random shapes on your hip bone.
"you're going to hate me when i say this, but i only really wanted a few maybe two max? but being with you? i want minimum four."
your gasp makes him wince. you're shocked, there is no way he is actually being serious. you tell him as much but he shakes his head and assures you just how serious he is.
"honestly baby. i want a big family with you."
his words may or may not rile you and you guys maybe get started on that big family that night, but you don't kiss and tell..
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
lando wasn't to hold back on his thoughts or feelings and with his rants about wanting to start a family were proof of this, well you had thought so. the next time you're at the paddock is the next time he's asked about starting a family. you're watching from the side with max and oscar as he gets interviewed and you can see the say his whole face lights up at the question, as if racing was a chore he was getting forced to do every few weekends and not the second favourite part of his life.
lando takes a quick glance in your direction before he starts and it's like your conversation on the topic opened the floodgates in lando's mind as he reveals his every thought on having a baby or two or ten.
"me and my girlfriend were talking about this and it made me realise i want a full on norris army of children behind me. i want minimum four with my girl. ideally two of each but wouldn't even complain if all i had was girls because then that means that there would be so much more of my girl out there in the world, and little parts of me i guess too." lando's smile is splitting and the interviewer smiles back at him, loving seeing him being so open and honest about it.
"would you encourage your little ones to get involved in karting and racing?" she enquires. you can already picture taking your imaginary children along to watch lando in his races. it does make your heart skip a beat or two.
as the interview continues, unbeknown to you and the other two drivers who are making kissy faces at pretending to cradle a child in their arms just to tease you and how much lando was infatuated with the idea of kids with you, the camera pans in your direction to get a nice reaction shot to your boyfriend's words.
all they capture is your bright red face, from the teasing and lando blunt words, and the boys childish behaviour.
that night is then filled with lando teasing (and comforting) you as it was now your turn to get teased on twitter, millions of fans already making your reaction a meme. you knew you'd never live it down and a small part of you was excited to explain the video and reaction picture to those future kids.
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corkinavoid · 19 hours
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DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die
He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.
And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.
Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.
What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.
So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.
The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.
A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.
That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.
"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"
And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.
"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."
"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"
Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.
Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.
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iwassupremacy · 2 days
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Going cross eyed on pro hero Bakugou Katsuki’s fingers because ugh they’re so thick and long and rough from all the years of fighting. He has you sit between his thick thighs every chance he gets, one beefy arm holding your body at the waist, pressing you against his chest and the other laying comfortably between your legs so his fingers can work you open real good. He has you moaning and squirming within seconds, his thumb rubbing your clit and two, sometimes even three, of his fingers entering you at once. He knows you can take it and he knows you love a little pain. Most of the time he isn’t even undressed, because he’s not planning on fucking you afterwards. He just loves watching your naked body covered in sweat and wants to play with his pussy, preferably for hours. And he will do it during the most random activities as well.
“Oh my~ Katsuki!” your body tenses as your boyfriend fucks you through your orgasm with his fingers, thumb never leaving your clit and never slowing down. Quickly you whine and sob from the overstimulation. “I can’t~ no more. Please!” You beg him to stop but he just huffs and fastens his pace, thrusting three of his fingers inside without a care. “This is only your third, doll. You and I both know you can cum so much more than that.” He grins, his other hand moving up to pinch your nipple. You yelp at that, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He has you spread out in his lap, your naked body sitting pretty in his clothed one. His name leaves your lips like a prayer, pleading and begging him to stop and keep going at the same time. Suddenly his fingers stop inside of you, stuffing you full but not moving any longer. “Do you even remember anything about the movie?” Oh fuck. When all of this started an hour ago, he made you promise to recite the plot of whatever movie you were watching. Otherwise, he said, he wouldn’t stop at all. You let your head fall down in shame, of course you couldn’t remember. “What a shame. Gotta start over now.” You whine as he picks up the remote to let the movie start over, his hand picking up movement again, making you moan. Only two more hours to go if you only paid attention, how hard could it be? You hear your boyfriend chuckle behind you. “And afterwards, we’re gonna watch part two, princess.”
mdni 18+ !!!
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nanaslutt · 5 hours
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stuck in the dryer w/ perv!Geto
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ʚ cont: fem reader, rough sex, multiple orgasms, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talkkk!!
ʚ note: welcome back perv geto, we have missed u (gramarly spell checked this for me but i didn’t proof read it so possible grammar mistakes below)
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔
"Fuck, Suguru!" You yelled, the sound echoing around from where you were stuck inside the dryer. Somehow, when trying to get the last towel out of the dryer, your hair got caught on the inside of the dryer and you couldn't for the life of you get it out. Your abdomen was starting to cramp from holding yourself up while you were bent over in the dryer on your knees while you desperately yanked on your hair trying to get it unstuck.
When you heard his footsteps get closer, echoing the floorboards you sighed a little in relief. You tried to tilt your hair down to look at him between your legs, but your hair was too tied up and wouldn't allow for much movement. "What the hell am I looking at?" Suguru laughed. You couldn't help but notice he stopped walking, he just stood by the door and watched you wiggle your ass while you tried to free yourself.
"My fucking hair got stuck when I was getting your laundry," you yelled, "please help me get it out." Your only response was a laugh before he started walking again, closing the distance between you. "So you're stuck in the dryer then?" He responded, crouching down behind you on his feet. He placed his elbows on his knees and tilted his head at you from behind, mesmerized by your ass.
You obviously knew what it looked and sounded like, you weren't born yesterday. "Yeah, haha, so funny, I'm stuck in the dryer. "With your ass out." He added unhelpfully. "With my ass out."
"You know," he started, his large hand rubbing over your ass making you flinch before you relaxed again, "I could do some pretty bad things with you at my mercy like this," You sighed when he started massaging your ass with his hands in a circular motion, his thumbs dangerously close to where you now ached. "Don't even think about it, perv, it's starting to get hot in here, help me out." You couldn't help yourself from wiggling back into him when you attempted to pull your hair out again, the action only making him grope you with more effort.
"Yeah? Want me to help you out?" He responded, his tone so cocky you just knew he had a stupid smirk on his face. You were about to retort when he rubbed the pad of his thumb expertly against your clit through your shorts. "Suguru," you whimpered in a pathetic effort to get him to stop, the sound coming out more pathetic rather than serious.
"What baby?" He asked, the sound of his zipper moving making you clench your thighs in anticipation. "Thought you said you wanted help?" He chided, removing his thumb from your clit to grasp the band of your shorts. He slowly slid them down your ass, his lips making a smacking noise when he kissed the skin of your behind as he did. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and suppressed a smile. This whole situation was so fucking cliche.
"I've thought about you like this, you know," Geto said, the sound of his hand moving over something long and thick making your mouth water. You would recognize the sound of him jerking off from anywhere. And by the sounds of it, his tip was already leaking so much from how wet it sounded. "You watch too much porn," you responded, rolling your eyes. Geto reached for your ass with one hand and spread you open, exposing your pussy more for him before he landed a wad of spit against your opening. "Haven't watched any since I got with you."
You gasped and gripped the opening of the dryer when he rubbed his spit and your combined wetness around. "You sure you wanted help getting out of here? Because you're so fucking wet right now, it's like you wanted me to fuck you when you're stuck like this," He laughed, pressing his tip against your entrance before relenting the pressure. He did that teasing movement over and over again, making your hole clench in anticipation only for him to pull away and leave you hanging.
"Jesus christ, if you're gonna fuck me then-" your words were cut off with a scream when he slammed his entire cock inside you all at once. The burn was barely recognizable when he immediately started up a brutal pace, "what was that?" he laughed through a groan. If your hair hadn't been stuck, you would've smacked your head agaisnt the inside of the dryer from how hard he was pounding you.
"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so fighting tight, h-holy fuck baby," Geto groaned, gripping your waist in his large hands and pulling you back to meet his thrusts. All you could do was whine and take it as his fat tip abused your gspot repeatedly with expert precision. "Taking it so well, my cock was m-made for you." He must have really been enjoying himself, because you could feel him drip inside you, making the squelching noises between you louder and louder.
You pressed your thighs together to bring your clit some stimulation to deal with the onslaught of pressure he was giving the inside of your pussy. You crossed one ankle over the other and your shins kicked up between his legs uncontrollably from how hard he was giving it to you. "Do you like this? You want this?" He groaned, reaching his hand around your body to find your clit and rub it in fast circles. You nodded, knowing he couldn't hear you, but you hoped your loud whines were enough for him.
You thought you upset him when he pulled out completely with a grunt, but you almost cried when you felt his tongue breach the ring of your cunt. "F-fuck, fuck Suguru!" You cried, reaching one of your hands behind you to tangle your hand in his gorgeous dark hair to keep him pressed agaisnt you. He continued rubbing your clit in little circles as he ate you out like a man starved. His lips were moving on your cunt like he was making out with it, and fuck did it send shivers down your spine.
"Almost- almost came," he moaned between licks, his voice muffled by your cunt as he could barely pull himself away to talk, "Almost filled you up in under a minute, that's what you fucking do to me, oh yes pretty yes- squeeze my tongue-" You squeezed your eyes tight, his words only tightening that ball of pleasure in your stomach more and more. You couldn't believe how into this he was, it was like he was possessed.
Geto started rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit at an inhumane pace, making you scream out in pleasure. "Uh huh- uh- mmm- fuck- fucking give it to me," He gripped your hip so hard with his other hand you knew for sure it was going to bruise. Your legs shook as you felt the first wave of your orgasm crash over you. Wetness dripped between your legs and into his greedy mouth that was groaning against your cunt, some of it falling on the floor, but you didn't have time to think about how he just made you fucking squirt when he pulled his tongue away from you and slammed his cock back inside.
"Oh, you're so fucking soft inside now," He grit through his teeth, his fingers never relenting against your clit. You could barely breathe between screams as he pounded into you and gave you no time to recover from your orgasm before he was quickly sending you headfirst into another one. "S-suguruuu," you wined brainlessly, your chest hitting the opening of the dryer repeatedly as he manhandled your body back and forth each time he sheathed his cock inside you.
"I know princess I know, gonna come all over me again? Gonna squirt on my cock this time while I fill you up? You want that?" He was rambling, a tell that he was close, but you also knew that from how reckless his thrusts were getting. "Y-yeah, yes Sugu give it to me," your words were slurred but he understood the message well enough.
"Yeah you're gonna take it while you're stuck in there, gonna make sure you don't w-waist a single drop," He groaned, rubbing your clit in messy circles. His moans and groans turned into gasps and higher-pitched sounds as he was brought toward the edge. You could picture his head tipped back with his jawline shown off for you. His eyes would be twitching behind his eyelids as he was unable to open them from how much pleasure he was feeling. He looked absolutely beautiful in your mind's eye.
His hips stuttered and his fingers tightened against your hips at the same time you came around him. Geto whimpered when you squirted all over him just like he wanted you to. "H-ah s-so fucking good to me, s-o so good so good," He moaned over and over before he stilled with a loud whine. His moans cut off with a gasp before you felt the first rope of his seed fill you up and he groaned again with it. His body shook and jolted behind you with the force of his orgasm. He was stuffing you so full and all you could do was grip onto the side of the dryer and take it while he ruined your pussy and filled you to the absolute brim.
You started to come from your high, remnants of your own orgasm dripped from your cunt and slid down your thigs adding to the mess on the floor. Geto curled his body over yours and stuck his head in the dryer with you, his soft hair cascading around your shoulders. Your back and abs ached with the effort it took to not let your head dangle how you wanted, and you gasped as you turned your head to the side to look at him through hooded eyes.
There was a dopey, handsome smile on his face as he looked at you. You could still see your wetness smeared all across his cheeks from how messy he had eaten you. "Hey," he said, rolling his hips inside you to stuff you full. You gasped and your eyes rolled back as he pushed his softening cock against your overstimulated gspot. "Don't roll your eyes like that unless you wanna get fucked again, pretty princess," he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose.
You sighed and struggled to catch your breath. It was hot enough inside the dryer without his lungs hogging up all the oxygen too. "Get me out of here and if you say please I'll consider it, you fucking pervert," your words held no malice, and they made Geto laugh before he slid out and reached for your hair that was pinched in the dryer. "I'm a reallyy good boy when it comes to begging to fuck your pussy. Give me a couple minutes and I'll be good to go."
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fairyhaos · 2 days
Text
◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan
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jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions
warnings: light swearing
summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.
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It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 
“Who is this and what do you want?”
“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”
He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 
“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”
“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”
Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”
You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”
“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”
There’s a pause.
“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”
Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 
“You know me so well.”
“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”
“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”
You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.
“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”
───────────── 🌘
Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.
Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 
It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 
So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 
It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.
But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.
“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 
It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 
Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”
Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 
“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”
“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”
“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”
“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”
Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 
“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”
You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”
“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”
It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 
He isn't. 
“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”
“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”
“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”
You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.
 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 
“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”
Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 
He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 
“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.
Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.
“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.
“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”
“Um, lies.”
“No lies. You literally love me so much.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”
Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.
“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”
“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”
“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.
And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.
Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.
It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.
“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”
There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.
“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.
You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.
Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.
It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.
More.
These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.
“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”
Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.
“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit
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babyleostuff · 3 days
Text
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─ PINK RIBBONS
𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792
natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go
⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.
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“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you. 
your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion. 
you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.
“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.  
jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.” 
your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity. 
looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much. 
you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less. 
and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home? 
“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart.��
were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.
“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”
“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.
“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?” 
you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan. 
“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.
“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. 
placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh. 
what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you. 
for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii  @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo
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justmymindandstuff · 2 days
Note
Can you do Aemond x f!reader? And the reader being a lot like Helaena (I'm projecting lol, I want an autistic reader basically). Just fluff between them, maybe newlywed?
Learn to Love you - Aemond Targaryen x WifeReader
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summary: Aemond tries to understand his new wife, but you are too much like his sister. He can't get through to you. One evening he tries it with direct confrontation and is rewarded with a glimpse of you and hope for the future. After this evening his wife is not a complete stranger anymore.
words: 2.818
warnings: softAemond, a bit angst
a/n: based on the request above. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as fluffy as it should. I hope you like it anyway :) I'm not autistic myself and don't want to hurt any feelings with the portrayl of the Reader. I based her on Helaena in the show.
Gif not mine// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // AO3 // not proofread// requests are open
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Aemond moves quietly through the halls of his home. The Red Keep slowly goes calm. The sun has already set, and most have retreated to their private chambers. Aemond is tired and longs for his own chambers and his bed. He had spent the evening a little longer than usual talking with Ser Criston. The sworn shield of his mother and he had trained together in the courtyard in the morning. Criston had discussed a few improvements with him. If his sore muscles would allow it, Aemond would try out the improvements tomorrow. But before he can retreat for the evening, he still has a task to complete. He still has his evening visit with his wife to attend to.
His marriage is not really how he imagine it would be. It's been almost a week since you two got married. You've known each other for 10 days. When you arrived at the Red Keep and he saw you for the first time, he had been relieved. A pretty face and a friendly smile had greeted him. Aemond tried to get to know you and realized that you are more than just a pretty face. You are nice, polite, smart, well-read, but strange. Often you drift off into your own world. Captured by your thoughts. You will be in a place where Aemond cannot follow you. And he quickly realized that you can't stand it when he touches you.
During your wedding ceremony, you didn't touch him more than necessary. The touch of your lips almost triggered a panic attack for you. You tore your hand away from his. Aemond would have liked to hold your hand a little longer. On this night, he did not dare to lay with you. This didn´t change over the last week, so you are still a maiden. Not that Aemond has told anyone, and as far as he knows, you haven't said a word either.
Maybe it's because he is a stranger to you? Aemond doesn't really know what to do. He doesn't like the situation. But he also doesn't know how he should change it. His usual solution, Vhagar, will definitely not work here.
He tried to seek advice from his brother. I don't know. With Helaena, it was different. I knew her well before we got married. For your wife, you are just a stranger. Aegon is right but Aemond didn't know how to change that.
So he went to his mother. Give her time to get to know you.
Both pieces of advice only led him to visit you every evening and try to get to know you. However, you mostly sit there in awkward silence and do not look at each other. You still feel uncomfortable in his presence he knows this.
Arriving at your chambers, he takes a deep breath once more and steps inside. The room is still lit by a few candles. He closes the door and watches as you pace restlessly in front of the fireplace.
"You are later than usual." you say, stopping in your movement. Now that Aemond is here, the unrest fades a little. Still, it bothers you that he doesn't come to visit you during his usual time frame. It's actually almost time for you to call your maids so they can help you change and you can go to sleep.
“I apologize for being late.” Aemond says even though he doesn't understand why it bothers you. Have you already gotten your hopes up that he won't come today? You look at him for a moment and then nod.
Without saying a word, you sit down in the armchair by the fireplace where you sit every evening. Aemond takes off his sword belt and places his weapon next to the door. He had considered that it might make you nervous that he carries a sword with him. So he puts down his weapon every evening before he sits down with you. Fortunately, you know nothing about the dagger in his boot.
Aemond even had a dagger made for you as a wedding gift. A beautiful weapon, with a gracefully curved handle and on the blade, just before the hilt begins, is a small dragon embossed that is inspired by Vhagar. Aemond hasn't had the chance to give you this gift yet. He knows that you need to get to know him better in order to understand the thought behind it. You should always be able to protect yourself, in case he might not be able to someday.
He shakes off the thought and sits down in the other armchair next to the fireplace. You don't look at him, but into the flames. Just like every evening. When you start to speak in a quiet voice he almost flinches.
"Why are you later than usual?" your hands are playing with the fabric of your skirt. You haven't changed for the night yet. You´re never when Aemond comes into your chambers. Even your hair is still braided into tight braids. Aemond feels like a visitor in his wife's chambers.
"I discussed my training with Ser Criston. There were a few problems this morning," he replies honestly.
Your face shows no reaction as you respond. “Are you hurt?”
Are you worried about him? No. Why should you? He is a stranger to you. But he still worries about you even though you are a stranger to him. After all, you are married. He wished he could read your thoughts.
"No, I am not hurt. Even though I don't really want it, Ser Criston is always a bit cautious during training with me." he is trying to ease your worries. If you are worried. Again, he tries to read your expression, but your face remains still. Your only reaction is that you turn your head to look at him. The fire in the fireplace casts warm light on your profile and your skin shimmers almost like gold. Once again, Aemond notices how beautiful you are. You look at him, and your gaze prompts Aemond to continue speaking. "I don't want him to hold back because, in a serious situation, my opponent won't hold back either."
"Which serious situation?" you still ask in a quiet voice.
"I don't know. If my family is in danger." and then he adds quietly. "If you are in danger."
The corner of your mouth twitch slightly and you almost smile. Then you turn your gaze away again and look into the fireplace. Aemond suppresses the urge to reach for your hand in your lap. Silence spreads again between you. The uncomfortable silence causes a hot burning sensation in Aemond's gut. Still, he can't take his eyes off you. You seem a bit sad. He decides that it can't go on like this. Aemond has to swallow and gathers all his courage to speak again.
"You are not happy."
This time you turn not just your head towards him but your whole body. He is surprised when your gaze meets him and you look directly into his eyes. Rarely can you hold his gaze. Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you think. It takes a moment before you respond.
"No. No, it's just that it's hard for me. My father brought me here, and this is a strange place for me. All the people around me are strangers. I miss my family and my home. Everything I knew was taken away from me. I was used to everything at home. I had my routines and everything. It's hard for me to adjust to all these new things around me. But it doesn't have anything to do with you."
Aemond is surprised by your words and needs a moment to truly understand what you have said. Guilt overwhelms him. It is his fault that you were kidnapped from your home. Because you had to marry him.
"I'm sorry," he says. Now it is him who cannot withstand your gaze and he looks at his hands.
"I don't blame you." once again, you surprise him your voice is now a bit firmer. "It wasn't your decision to marry me. Just as it was not my decision to marry you. That was agreed upon by our parents." you sigh. "You are not happy either. And that is my fault. I know that I'm weird."
"No! I don't find you weird."
You laugh softly and at the sound Aemond's heart skips a beat. He is looking at you again, he wants to hear you laugh once more.
"You don't have to lie."
"I am not lying. I don't find you weird. You remind me of my sister."
Your eyes start to shine. "Hel. I like her a lot."
He feels a slight tug at his heart. Aemond knows that you usually spend your days in the company of his sister Helaena. He has seen both of you walking in the garden a few times or engrossed in conversation while eating. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Helaena.
"Yes, I know. Do you spend a lot of time with her?“
You nod. "Yes. I enjoy being with her." "What are you doing all day?"“ Aemond is clinging to every strand. Everything is better than this uncomfortable silence between you.
"Oh, very different things. Sometimes we read together, or she explains something to me about insects. Sometimes I read one of my poems to her. Or I’ll give her one to read."
Aemond is captivated by the sparkle in your eyes.
"You write poetry?" he asks, annoyed with himself for not knowing this about you, but Hel did. Your cheeks are slightly turning red, and for the first time, Aemond feels like he can read your emotions from your face.
"Yes, among with other things. I also enjoy reading poetry. My favorite poet is Marcus Hill. He writes incredibly well. My poems are not even close to being that good. But I don't just write poems, I also write short stories. This helps me organize my thoughts better. But I like most writing poems.“ you speak a little faster than usual, which reveals your excitement to Aemond. He can't help but smile at the sight. Now that you are passionately talking about your interests, you are even more beautiful.
Suddenly you jump up from your chair. Aemond's hand instinctively goes to where his sword's hilt usually is. In the next second, it becomes clear to him that there is no danger, and he relaxes again. You didn't notice anything because you turned away immediately and took a few uncertain steps through your chamber before turning back to him. Uncertain, your hands begin to play with the fabric of your skirt. You take a deep breath and then search for his gaze for a second before looking away again. Aemond leans forward a bit, tense with anticipation. Finally you start to speak. "Would you like to… I mean just if you want? You don't have to." You stop yourself, take a deep breath and gathering your thoughts. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" you ask softly.
Aemonds heart skips a beat and a pleasant warmth spreads within him. "Yes. Very gladly."
You nod, turn back around, and walk to your nightstand. You pick up a book with a leather cover and open it. Aemond notices from his seat that it is stuffed with written pages, and almost every book page is filled with your neat handwriting. You rummage through the loose papers and then pull out a page before you close the book again and carefully place it back in its spot. You are coming back to him.
"I wrote this on the day of our wedding," you say, handing him the sheet of paper. In that moment, your fingertips brush against his. The touch is so fleeting that Aemond is not sure if he might have just imagined it.
He turns his gaze away from you and directs it to the folded paper between his fingers. He wants to open it to read your poem, but before he has really moved his fingers, your hand shoots forward and holds his hand firmly. Aemond skin tingles and he lightly closes his hands around yours.
"No. Please don't read it here. That would be too embarrassing for me. Please read it later and tell me tomorrow what you thought," you say quickly. Aemond looks up again and directly into your eyes. He saw you that close for the last time on your wedding day in the sept. A shiver runs through his body and he can only nod. You also nod and allow him to briefly squeeze your hand before you pull back and sit down again in your chair opposite to him. He already misses the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.
Aemond folds the paper with your face completely again and then puts it in the pocket of his shirt. Suddenly, this piece of paper is his most precious possession.
"Now you know something about me." you notice. Aemond can't gauge whether the fact bothers you or not. He hopes it  doesn´t. Before he can ask, you are already speaking again. "You like sword training. I could watch your training?” you suggest.
Aemond thinks about the training courtyard. About the loud clashing of the swords striking against each other, the sreams of the knights, the swearing and the rough manner of speaking among men. And then he thinks of you, his gentle, fragile wife. Sometimes the gentle background music that plays during dinner is too loud for you. You would hate it.
"No, this is not a suitable environment for you, my Lady. The men do not know how to behave in the presence of a princess." he explains.
"Oh."
Aemond sees how you stiffen a little again and turn your gaze back towards the fireplace. The fire is almost out. Aemond is afraid that the closeness he has found today will slip away from him again, and as a result, he starts to speak a bit too quickly.
"But if you want, I can join you on your walk tomorrow?" he is momentarily afraid that this will disrupt your routine, but you look at him again.
"Yes, that would be nice. I always take a stroll through Queen Alyssa's garden after afternoon tea."
Aemond must suppress a smile. He is, of course, well informed about your daily routine. Even though he hasn't really been able to talk to you until today, he has always kept a close eye on what you're doing. "I am happy to be allow to accompany you." his gaze falls on your hands folded in your lap, and once again, longing pulls at him to reach for your hand. "When we go for a walk. Would you allow me to hold your hand then? I know you don't like my touches. But...
"No. It's not your touches that I don't like.I don't like touches from anyone, regardless of who." you clarify things quickly. "But yes. I will allow it. I know about it know, so I can prepare myself for it. If I´m prepared I can hold your hand.”
This time Aemond cannot suppress his smile. A pleasant anticipation for tomorrow fills him and he feels as if he has made a significant step forward in his marriage today.
The ringing of the bell in the great sept makes you both flinch. Startled you look out the window, then you get up and walk through your rooms. "I have to call my maids and go to bed.It's already past my usual time."
Aemond quickly gets up as well and nods. Bad conscience about the fact that he disrupted your routine today weighs on him. He turns to the door and goes to his sword belt to put it back on. As he just fastens the buckle and turns to leave, you turn to him once more.
"Thank you, Aemond. Our conversation was good for me. I enjoyed it very much. I´m looking forward to our walk tomorrow and I'm curious to hear what you think of my poem."  and then you smile directly at him for the first time.
His heart starts to race immediately, and Aemond is sure that he has just fallen in love. Unconsciously, he places his hand on the pocket where he has put your poem. Then he returns your smile.
"Yes, I also enjoyed it very much. Good night, my Lady Wife. I will see you tomorrow."
"Good night, my Lord Husband.” you respond still with a smile on your face.  
Aemond nods briefly and then leaves your chambers. His steps are light, and he intends to speak with the steward first thing tomorrow morning so that he can arrange for the poet Marcus Hill to be invited to the Red Keep as soon as possible.
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the-goo-goo-muck · 2 days
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NOW PLAYING
BREAKFAST, LUNCH, & DINNER
Starring: Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami, Kiyotaka Ijichi, Sukuna Ryomen, Toji Fushiguro
The JJK men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you
Warnings! oral (f receiving), overstimulation, praise, face-sitting, fingering, male masturbation, ass-play, degradation
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Choso Kamo: Determined <3
Choso maybe does a little bit too much research. He’s heard that some women don’t necessarily like getting head as much as other things. He can’t fathom this because you sucking his dick is about the most pleasurable thing he can think of besides being stuffed inside your cunt. Regardless, he wants to do his very best to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as it is for him; he’s just so concerned he’ll do a bad job. & it makes no difference how much you assure him that “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, sweetie,” & that even if he does do a bad job, you won’t be upset. No, that only encourages him that he needs to make this as good as possible. So when he finally makes up his mind, he’ll let you know as straightforward as usual, probably a text that has you choking on your coffee at 10:00am: “I want to eat you out tonight Y/N.” Straight to the point, as usual. & of course you’re excited, but a swirl of nervousness begins coiling in your stomach. Last time he had his head between your thighs, he was there for hours. 
He doesn’t like it when you talk, especially coherently, that means he’s not doing his job. “Faster? But when I go faster with my cock you cry. . .” “It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?” “Shhh, s’okay, know you can cum for me again, pretty girl, don’t you wanna cum? I love it when you cum on my tongue, just for me.”
He tries to praise you, mimic the sweet things you say to him when you’re jerking him off or riding his cock, but he’s almost as fucked out as you are, & the praise never seems to sound as good spilling from his lips as it does from yours—at least, that’s what he thinks. But his soft spoken, sweet words cause your cunt to pulse against his tongue, so he tries for you anyways; tries anything, because if it gets you off, makes you feel even a fraction as good as you make him feel, he’s more than willing to do it!
He’s the type to eat you out until he loses track of time, cumming in his own pants once or twice, he doesn’t even need to put his cock in you. & it isn’t until you’re cross-eyed, sweaty, voice hoarse, & crying for him that he even considers stopping. “Did it feel good?” If you had any energy, you’d smack him upside the head. 
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Kento Nanami: Generous <3
If you were to ask Nanami what his favorite thing to do in bed was, it would be–hands-down, without a doubt, easily—eating you out. Of course, he’s a service top until the day he dies, but it’s more than that; he genuinely derives pleasure from making you feel good. After a long day of work, he comes home exhausted, bags under his eyes, muscles sore, & you’re thinking what you could do to make him feel better: a nice shower, a massage, & maybe—if he’d let you—sucking his dick. You’re pretty pleased with yourself about this little plan until you’ve got him in the bedroom, heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower & he’s tugging on your arm, pulling you down on the bed & wordlessly working off your pants. 
“Kento? Don’t you wanna shower first?” 
He shakes his head, “need to taste you, sweetheart, need it.” 
He hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs up & over his broad shoulders, making himself comfortable, in for the long haul.
His favorite is when you’ve sat down on him, hands gripping the headboard, mindlessly grinding against his face, chasing your own pleasure, head empty.  You feel bad sometimes, sitting on his face, or grinding your cunt against him, squeezing your thighs around his head, pulling his hair, but if anything, this adds to his enjoyment of it. He could sit with his head between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, & you always let him because he’s just so damn good at it; you don’t have to tell him what you want, what you need, because he already knows. 
He sticks his tongue into your tight hole, relishing, moaning at the way it spasms around it, working a finger in alongside it, curling it up to that special spot that has you throwing your head back & whining his name. Sucking on your clit, almost meanly because he knows, he knows, how overstimulated you are, how it hurts so good. 
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Kiyotaka Ijichi: Desperate <3
“You-you taste so good, pretty girl, s’good, please, n-no, don’t gotta run from it,” he whines as you attempt to rock your hips up off the bed, obviously grinding his hips onto the bed, hoping you won’t notice. He’s just so eager, he needs you to cum against his face just one more time. He’s whining like a poor puppy when you pull on his hair. Pathetic moans fill the air, & you’re losing it because there’s no technique, no method to the madness, just pure, sheer, utter desperation. & he’s apologizing into your soaking cunt as he ruts into the bed through his orgasm, potentially gaining more pleasure from this than you. It was always so easy to make Kiyotaka feel good, just your moans of “more, more, so good, Kiyo” had him whining into your pussy, palming his sore dick through his boxers. 
What he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness; eager is the perfect word for the way Kiyotaka eats you, tongue lying flat over & over on your slit, tongue slipping in & out of your puckering hole, thumb circling your clit constantly, overwhelming your poor cunt. 
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Sukuna Ryomen: Aloof <3
It was rare that Sukuna ate you out, not because he doesn’t like it, don’t get it twisted, but it’s so vulnerable of him, & he can’t fully control himself when he’s between your legs. He’s contrastingly gently, savoring every inch of you, alternating between sucking on your thighs, teasing you to no end, & assaulting your clit with his tongue & his fingers. He loves to have your hips in his hands, manhandling you how he wants, fingertips leaving bruises on your waist, growling when you whine out, “w-wait ‘Kuna, s’too much,” because “Isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” 
Maybe you had wanted this, but you hadn’t expected him to go on for so long. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen Sukuna have any form of patience, barely even prepping you before bullying his cocks into you, but here he was, taking his time with you, not even worried about his own pleasure, too enchanted by your honeyed pussy, just begging for him. 
He’ll never tell you this, but his favorite time to eat you out is when you’re on your period; he’ll disguise it by saying that it makes your scent stronger, but really he just wants to ease your pain & make you feel better.
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Toji Fushiguro: Rug Muncher <3
God, he’s an asshole. Don’t get it wrong, he loves eating that sweet cunt of yours, but he also loves nothing more than teasing you. He’s got you on your knees, upper body resting on the sheets, pressing the chastest of kisses on your thighs, your folds, hands slowly gripping your ass, spreading it open for him, swirling his tongue around your puckered hole just above your pussy, pushing a finger in even though he knows you’re cunt is aching for him. He’ll get there. . .eventually. 
“Nghh—n-no, Toji, n-not there,” you whine, trying to pull away from his finger, but he just pushes it in deeper. 
“Not there? Where d’ya want in then, princess?” & fuck it, he knows where you want it, but he just can’t get over how perfect you are like this: needy, desperate, unabashed. You’re not afraid to beg for what you want. But he doesn’t give you time to ask. “You sure you aren’t just pretending not to like it? ‘Cause your pussy clenches every time I put my finger in here.” He laughs meanly, but then he’s sticking his tongue in your pussy, licking fat stripes front to back, spitting on it, shaking his head all up in it. Toji likes it when you give him messy head, & so of course he likes to return the favor.
You’re reaching down to rub your clit while he’s taking his sweet time getting you off & then he’s swatting your hand away because you’re gonna take what he gives you or get nothing at all.
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no, your honor, i don't believe in writing ooc headcanons. . .
LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3
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celestialprincesse · 3 days
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Since ur taking requests… could I request this please? It’s okay if you don’t want to do it :)!!
Fluff!! 141tf trying to communicate with a new addition.. cause she doesn’t speak English as a first language.
Simon trying his hardest to be less sarcastic and damp his dry humor a bit so it doesn’t come off as scary or confusing to her, or soap doing that thing where he speaks slowly to get his point over. Gaz learning slangs and her language cause he’s a sweetheart fr and price already knows her language and she’s her bestie now.
<3
𐙚⋆°.
You'd only been called in to help TF141 as backup, a less conspicuous translator intended to help gather information on a covert mission - a quick in and out. Simple enough, right?
Simple enough, if any of them had a basic understanding of any language besides English. You know enough, but it can only get you so far.
Currently, you're sat in the common area, a pair of headphones smushed in your ears as you occupy yourself with an episode of 'Friday Night Dinners' - Laswell had suggested watching what she described as 'quintessential English telly' to get a better grip on the humour you were sorely lacking in an understanding of.
In fact, you're so immersed, and actually entertained, by the sitcom, that you don't notice a gruff "brew?" coming from Simon's general direction by the kettle.
"Oh, pardon?" You question, noting the way Soap's lips curl into an amused smile at your propriety, and Simon forgetting that most of his phrases and slang wouldn't be understood outside of a Manchester pub, let alone England.
"Cup of tea." Price cuts in, seeing the way your brows furrow with confusion, and slight disappointment at feeling left out, all of them bonded by their shared language - all but you.
"She'll have a builders, one sugar, splash of milk." The captain grunts in Simon's general direction, somehow having memorised the way you take your tea, and recited it before you can even get a word out. Honestly, you don't even like English tea that much, but you'd copied the way Gaz made his tea on the first day you'd arrived here, and made a habit of it since.
"Actually, I bought some herbal." He chirps up from the corner, taking off his cap to run a hand across the tight coils of his hair before replacing the union jack accessory. "Trying to cut back on caffeine." Gaz lies, not wanting you to feel like any more of a fish out of water. He's seen the way you'd scowled upon first arriving at the barracks to find the only drinks available being in the heavily caffeinated genre.
Despite their grasp on your language being far from fluent, they're trying in the ways they know how, and that's enough for you.
𐙚⋆°.
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days
Text
lipstick kisses 𖦹 LN4
part 3 of dog dad lando series
PAIRING: lando norris x female!reader
SUMMARY: you would always get random cuteness aggression towards thor, but today, you might have smothered him too much, causing him to have lipstick kisses all over his face.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i wanted to post this first before i post the requests. if you have some request/prompts, feel free to send it and i’ll work on it. this is another one shot to the dog dad lando series, hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 1.4k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, cuteness aggression, all photos are grabbed from pinterest, and no use of y/n
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The sound of your laptop closing echoed in the quiet apartment as you stretched, with your muscles relaxing after hours of your online meeting. It has been a very long day, but finally, you can unwind. With a sigh of content, you got up from your seat and changed from your formal attire to some comfortable clothes, which is one of Lando’s white shirts and some shorts. You quickly made your way to the living room, threw yourself on the couch and grabbing the remote, scrolling through Netflix until you landed on The Crown—your latest hyper fixation calling out for your name, and with Lando busy doing a stream with Max, the living room was yours.
Settling into the couch, you pulled a blanket over your lap, getting ready to immerse yourself in the drama unfolding on the screen. The room was dim, illuminated by the light from the lamp and the flickering light of the television. Not long after, Thor padded into the room, his fluffy white fur practically glowing in the low light. He jumped up onto the couch beside you, his big round eyes staring up at you as if asking to join in on your little Netflix binge.
You smiled, absentmindedly running your fingers through Thor’s soft fur while you kept your eyes glued on the screen. “Hey, buddy,” you whispered, feeling a wave of affection wash over you.
Your petting became more deliberate, and the next thing you knew, Thor was already nestled on your lap, gazing up at you with those impossibly cute eyes. Suddenly, you felt that all-too-familiar rush of cuteness aggression. The kind that made you want to squeal and squish something so adorable that it hurts.
“You’re just too cute, Thor,” you cooed, your voice rising an octave. You leaned down and began planting kisses all over his fluffy face. “How are you this stinkin’ cute?!” Another kiss. “How is this even allowed?” And another kiss. You were completely absorbed in showering your baby with affection, blissfully unaware of anything else.
Meanwhile, Lando had quietly stepped out of his streaming room for a quick break, intending to grab one of his drinks from the kitchen. As he walked towards the kitchen, he immediately paused when he caught sight of you on the couch. His lips quirking up in amusement, eyes sparkling as he took in the scene. There you were, in your mid-cuteness aggression, holding Thor and peppering him with kisses like you couldn’t help yourself.
Lando chuckled softly to himself, careful not to make any noise that would let you know of his presence. Instead of interrupting, he pulled out his phone and discreetly filmed the moment, capturing how you lovingly attack Thor with your kisses. Once he had enough footage, he saved it, already planning to post it on his Instagram story later. With a smirk, he quickly grabbed his drink and slipped back into his streaming room, shaking his head as he settled back into his gaming chair.
“You guys won’t believe what I just saw,” Lando said with a laugh, speaking to his chat. “She’s having a full-on cuteness meltdown over Thor in the living room. I’m pretty sure Thor’s drowning in kisses right now.”
Meanwhile, back in the living room, you finally pull away from Thor, your cuteness aggression fading as you let out a satisfied sigh. Thor jumped off from your lap, ready to do his own thing, and as you turned back to the screen, something caught your eye. You squinted at Thor’s fluffy white face. Lipstick marks. Everywhere. You burst out laughing at the result of your cuteness aggression, unable to control the giggles as you realized what you had done.
“Oh no, Thor!” You exclaimed, wiping away tears of laughter. You reached for the pet wipes on Thor’s cabinet of necessities. “Come back here! I need to clean you up, my love.” But before you could grab him, Thor was already scampering off—straight towards Lando’s streaming room.
“Thor!” You called, but he was too fast, already gone. You could only shake your head, stifling another round of laughter as you imagined Lando’s reaction when he saw Thor covered in your lipstick.
The sound of your voice calling for Thor grew closer just as he dashed into Lando’s streaming room, leaping onto Lando’s lap like it was his favorite spot in the world. Lando blinked in surprise, pulling his headphones slightly away from his ears and glancing down at Thor, now comfortably settled in his lap.
“Mate, what—?” Lando started, then burst out laughing as he finally took in Thor’s appearance. The once pristine, white snow fluff was now covered in your lipstick marks, a splotchy red all over his cute little face. Lando leaned forward to show Thor to his stream, his grin widening.
“Guys, look at this!” He chuckled, turning Thor toward the camera so everyone could see the incredible masterpiece. “Thor’s just been absolutely smothered by kisses. Someone’s been a little too affectionate.”
His chat immediately blew up with laughing emojis, hearts, and comments, with people demanding a closer look. Lando quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo, smiling as he saved it. He turned his attention back to the stream, about to read one of the chats, when he heard your voice calling out for This again from the hallway.
“Thor! Where are you? Get back here right now, I need to clean you up.”
Lando smirked, lifting Thor a little higher. “Looks like someone’s in trouble,” he said playfully to his audience, giving Thor a conspiratorial glance. “Running away from mummy again, huh? You sneaky sneaky little boy.”
Just as you stepped into the room, Lando shifted in his chair, still holding Thor in his lap. You stopped at the doorway, a sheepish smile on your face as you met Lando’s amused eyes. “He ran away,” you said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as you grinned. “I need to clean him up before he gets lipstick all over the place, especially on our white couch.”
Lando laughed, scooping Thor up and holding him out toward you as if presenting a prized trophy. “You’ve made quite the mess on him,” he teased. “I was just showing everyone your handiwork.”
You sighed dramatically, walking over to take Thor from Lando’s arms. “Sorry, love, I just got carried away,” you sheepishly smiled. “I couldn’t help it. He’s just too cute.”
He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Carried away? Babe, you practically covered the poor guy in kisses. He’s never going to live this down now,” he joked, gesturing to the chat that was still buzzing with laughter.
You rolled your eyes playfully as you bent down to scoop up Thor. “Come on, little troublemaker. Time to clean you up before you end up on Instagram again.”
Lando’s fans greeted you warmly as you appeared on the stream, and you waved at the camera with a smile. “Hello everyone! Hi, Max!” You said, catching sight of Max’s face in the corner of the stream.
Max grinned. “Oh hey, look who it is! Caught you in the act, huh?” He teased, leaning closer to his screen. “You know, I think Lando’s just jealous. He never gets that many kisses.”
Lando feigned shock, gasping dramatically. “Max! That’s not true! I always get plenty of kisses, thank you very much.”
You shook your head with a laugh, wiping the lipstick marks off Thor’s face. “Well, if he doesn’t stop teasing me, Thor might just get more than him from now on!”
The chat exploded with laughing emojis and comments again, with Max laughing in the background while Lando pretended to sulk. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own girlfriend and dog,” Lando muttered, but his smile betrayed his amusement.
Once Thor was all cleaned up, you gave him a final kiss on the top of his head—much to Lando’s fake protest—and set Thor back on the floor. “There, all better. No more lipstick adventures for you,” you said, watching as Thor trotted off, likely planning his next trouble.
Lando’s eyes followed Thor, then flickered back to you with a fond smile. “You’re the best, you know that?” He said softly, barely loud enough for the mic to pick up, but it was enough to make your heart flutter.
You shot him a wink and gave him a soft peck on the lips before backing out of the room. “Have fun with your stream. Don’t let Thor distract you again!” You called over your shoulder, leaving Lando grinning as he returned to his stream.
“Sorry, guys. Where were we? Oh, right. Max, let’s go.”
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, yourbestfriend, maxfewtrell, and 2,748,937 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris my girl suffered from cuteness aggression. what have you done to our son 🙂‍↕️ but don’t worry guys, he’s all good
view all 49,937 comments
yourusername our son is too cute, i can’t help it!!! 😔
landonorris he looked so traumatized by your cuteness aggression, love
yourusername he is NOT traumatized! in fact, he loved it very much
username1 thor living out his best life. getting all the love and kisses
username2 ma’am, you’re GLOWING
username3 can your man fight? yourusername
username4 PEAK CUTENESS
maxfewtrell just wait until you see the lipstick marks on lando next
landonorris you bet 😉
username5 THE LIPSTICK MARKS HEHDJSJS THE CUTENESS AGGRESSION MUST BE TOO MUCH LMAOOO
username6 can i just say that yourusername looks so fucking gorgeous???!!! lando, you lucky lucky lad
username7 thor is such a good boy 🥹
username8 look at that distinguished gentleman
yourbestfriend it’s one of those days, huh
landonorris oh yeah 😔
yourusername you can’t blame me for my cuteness aggression!!!!! not when we have a very very very cute son 😠😠😠
username9 idk if i’d be jealous of thor, yourusername, or lando tbh
username10 STOP THIS IS SO CUTE
username11 ma’am, we can see the level of cuteness aggression by lando’s video 😭😭😭
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Note
This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?
With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"
Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?
Words: 2.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”
As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.
“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 
He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.
Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.
“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”
Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.
“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 
“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.
“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.
“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”
The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.
“It’s midlife,” she says. 
“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”
The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.
“She loves my Daddy.”
“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”
“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.
“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.
“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 
Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 
“But she loves me,” Luke says.
The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.
“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 
Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.
“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”
“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.
“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”
The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.
“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”
Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 
Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 
“That is enough!”
“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 
“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”
“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”
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The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 
Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 
“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 
Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 
“Luke got in a fight.”
“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.
Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.
“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”
If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”
Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 
“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 
“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 
Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 
Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.
It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, you.”
He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 
His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 
“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 
There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 
A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”
Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”
He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.
“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 
You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 
“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 
“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 
“About what?”
His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 
“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”
“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”
The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.
“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”
“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles.��
“Well…then he’s stupid.”
Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 
“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”
The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.
“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”
“Even after?” Luke asks.
“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.
Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”
“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.
His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 
“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”
You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.
“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”
“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”
He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 
You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 
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immortalmrwavell · 2 days
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Getting The Job
(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!
Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?
As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.
Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.
On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.
Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.
Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.
Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.
“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.
Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..
“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.
It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”
Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”
Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”
Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.
“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”
Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.
The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.
Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.
“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.
“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?
“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.
Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.
“Changing rooms are just over there.”
Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.
He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.
First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.
With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.
Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.
His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.
But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.
His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.
In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.
When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.
His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.
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“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.
In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.
Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!
Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”
Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.
Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.
A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.
He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.
He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!
“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.
“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.
Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.
“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.
“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?
“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.
Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.
“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”
“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.
“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.
“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.
James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…
Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”
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darnell-la · 2 days
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Request if you’re taking any!?
Enemies to smut. You finally cave in one night and you both settle things in bed but you’re like a massive brat not letting him dom but you give in everyone in the mansion hears then you have to deal with everyone’s comments the next day
note: young Logan Howlett can be a feral man when it comes to his women talking back. He secretly loves it, but everyone knows.
———
“Maybe if you took your claws out of your ass, you’d work better in the field!” Y/n yelled at Logan who had complained about her messing him up in recent missions they’ve had together.
“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe if didn’t worry about putting on makeup and dressing like some fuckin’ whore of the night, you could be more prepared before the mission! You barely know what we do on missions because you’re late!”
“Oh, fuck off,” y/n flipped the man off as she walked away, from the professor's room. “Fuck off? No, you fuck off! Always fuckin’ up but can’t take the consequences. I’m done working with you!” The man yelled as he followed behind her.
“Great! Maybe now I can breathe and have fun!” The young lady kept waking away from the man, having had enough of him already, and she had just woken up.
“You kill the fun! Always bitchin’ and talkin’ about me!” Logan said, making her laugh. “Ian a fan of old men, baby,” she said, now heading up the stairs. He followed.
“You sayin’ that like you’re not all over me when you’re drunk,” Logan was cocky, and she knew it. She liked it, but he pissed her off so much, she couldn’t stop arguing back.
“See how you gotta get me drunk to be on you?” Y/n said, making the man groan loudly in annoyance. She always had something to say back. He loved it but had to keep arguing.
“I could get you sober, Bub, and I know it. You fuckin’ know it,” he said, so close to her, but He had made it into her room and shut the door in his face, ignoring his true comment.
“Open the fuckin’ door,” Logan said low, still angry, but didn’t want to seem like he was begging. “Aww? Are you mad I don’t give a fuck about your scenarios with me?” Y/n fake pouted.
“They ain’t fake if you rub your ass on me anytime you get a pinch of liquor down that pretty throat of yours,” Logan was furious, yet she felt comfort from his wording. Pretty throat of yours…
“You wanna get me drunk, baby? So I can give you attention?” Y/n asked as she opened her door with a smirk to get him upset. Before the door was even fully open, he pushed through, grabbing her neck and slamming the door behind him.
“Like I said, Bub,” Logan slammed y/n against her room wall, causing a yelp to escape from her mouth. “Ion needa get you drunk to have that cunt leaking,”
Y/n would argue, but once she thought to herself and remembered he had enhanced smell, she almost wanted to shut down.
“Talkin’ all loud and big, makin’ me seem like I’m horny for you, yet, you’re soaked. Fuckin’ leaking your panties,” Logan said as his hands forced their way through her right jeans.
“So fuckin’ wet, I could end dehydration,” Logan teased her as he rubbed all over her pussy, fingers running through her slit as thumb swollen around her bud.
“Y-You can’t fuck me,” y/n was willing to bet. “At least not before I make you cum,” y/n used her strength to push Logan off. They grabbed his belt and dragged him towards the bed before pushing him down.
“No chance-“ Before he could finish, y/n gave him a well-deserved punch to his face. Logan was too surprised to realize she was pulling his jeans down. “Did you just punch me?” Logan asked, too shocked to think straight.
It was hot, yet he wanted to kill her, and by killing her, he meant her insides when he pounded into her squirming form.
“And what are you gonna do about it? Cum? Because that's what it looks like,” Y/n laughed at the man, having his cock in her hand, and the sight of him was unbelievable.
She hadn’t said one nice thing about him, yet he’s leaking am begging to release it all.
“That it-“ Before he could say anything, he stopped, freezing just as the words in his mouth. Y/n almost had all of him in her mouth. She tried to fit everything she could.
“F-F-F-“ Logan couldn’t get out as his eyes crossed and hands curled in his hair. “Mhm hmm?” She hummed in his cock, seeing how his eyes didn’t know what to do.
Y/n giggled at the man’s length as she bobbed her head, slurping him with slightly hard sucks. She couldn’t help but let out small moans and whines while she was at it.
“Fuck, pretty — Ain’t know you could get down like this — This fuckin’ good,” Logan’s breathed heavily as his hands placed in her hair. “Mhm hmm, right there, baby. Keep goin,” Logan gripped y/n’s hair to guide her.
The young lady began to slap at his arms, wanting him to later do what she wanted, but all he did was chuckle at her struggle.
“Thought you’d be gettin’ what you want?” Logan asked as he shifted on her bed and began thrusting his hips upward. “Think just because I’ll come before I stick it in that cunt, that I’ll just stop right then?”
“Oh, Bub, I can go forever. I’ll fill you up more than you could count,” the man told no lie. Y/n was angry, yet turned on that the man wanted to fill her multiple times.
“That’s it, keep gaggin’ — I’m so close,” the man growled as he looked directly into her eyes. She tried staying strong, but she ended up softening her eyes as they rolled back.
“Look so good, Bub — You always do,” he said, gaining a whine from her. “Mhm hmm, that’s it. That’s my girl,” the man chuckled, knowing she hated him, he loved him at the same time.
“Down, down,” Logan groaned, pushing y/n all the way down onto his cock, forcing his tip to graze the back of her throat as he spilled into her. Y/n cried, gagged, and scratched at the man, but took it all just how he wanted.
“C’mere, pain in my ass,” Logan pulled y/n off of him so rough, she almost slipped when he pulled her to her knees and pushed on her the bed. His cock still spilled out cum, as he wasn’t finished cumming, but he didn’t care. He needed to be in her officially.
“Stop! Let me at least-“ y/n tried pushing Logan to the side so she could get on him, but he wouldn’t allow it. “You don’t get what you want anymore. You’re gonna lay the fuck down and shut the fuck up,” Logan had gripped the girl's neck tightly to warn her to calm down.
“You’re an asshole — that cums fast,” y/n grinned, knowing he wouldn’t like her comment. “You're funny, you know?” Logan said with a soft voice but didn’t mean it in the slightest.
The strong man forced y/n on all fours before he ripped her jeans off. “Logan!” She yelled, instantly getting her face forced into the sheets. “Shut the fuck up, before I hurt you. And I know you’ll like it. You’ll like anything I give you,”
Logan slapped at the girl's ass before he ripped her panties off, taking a quick sniff with an eye roll before stuffing them in his jean's back pocket.
“Hey, those were my favorite pair!” Y/n yelled. “Thankfully, I don’t give a fuck,” the man cussed before he pushed into y/n with full force, trapping a loud scream she wanted to let out.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ slut,” Logan pulled y/n back by her hair with one hand as the other wrapped around her neck. “You fuckin’ like that, huh? Like me being an asshole? Like me using you like you mean nothing!?”
Logan snapped his hips hard, forcing her ass to clap right back into his pelvis. The noise made the situation better.
“Oh, but you are somehting, Bub. My girl. My pretty girls who’s gonna run her mouth, talk shit, and get tough a lesson,” y/n whined as her walls clenched around him.
He wanted her. She didn’t care how rude he was to her, at least she knew he wanted her.
“You know how many people are gonna laugh at you? Seeing how fucked up I have you when we leave rooms? So damn dumb, and fucked out,”
He was even willing to let people know he wanted her. She couldn’t stop pulsing around him.
“You’re gonna be my girl, and keep runnin’ that mouth. I like it. Like it so fuckin’ much, it just makes me wanna ruin this pussy even more,”
Y/n finally came with a loud cry as her body shook and gave out on her. “Thaaat’s it, baby,” Logan dragged as he kept y/n up, forcing her body to take more than she could.
“Maybe I should so then right now. Show them how fuckin’ limp you get on my dick,” Logan teased the girl as her hands scratched at her arms, needing some kind of slowed-down rhythm of his, but he wouldn’t give it.
“L-Lo,” y/n couldn’t stop her crying as another orgasm washed over her body. The man growled, feeling his cock twitch as he gave the young lady a few more slaps to her ass.
“Might wanna keep it down, baby. Don’t want them knowin’ you fuck with your enemy, eh? You should know I don’t care by now. I’ll fuck you at our meeting tomorrow,”
“T-Too much,” y/n cried all night, needing a break, but he didn’t care. She’s talked back to him too many times, started too many fights, and can’t keep her mouth closed. She’ll learn tonight.
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alphajocklover · 2 days
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InstaJock: Going Viral
**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**
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When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 
Until now.
With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.
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The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.
The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.
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It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.
Going Viral on IntsaJock isn��t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.
Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.
The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 
Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.
I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.
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So now what?
**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**
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jflemingology · 1 day
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Finals over Feelings | Jessie Fleming x Reader
In which: Jessie disregards you and your relationship while studying for her finals
Warnings: like very slightly angsty? R feeling disregarded in the relationship but it ends fluffy :)
WC: 4K
A/N: as much as I feel like Jessie would be a very caring partner, I see this could be something that happens irl lol. Little nerd
Divider: @cafekitsune
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Canada had failed to qualify for any tournaments over the summer this year. Jessie was gutted, she felt like she let her country down, especially as she had recently been made captain. Sinc's shoes were big ones to fill, and to fall short in the first summer under her leadership weighed on her.
Despite the cons about the football-free summer, there were obviously positives too. Jessie finally had a proper summer break, having two months off in which she could do what she wanted. Of course, Portland sent her training schemes that she had to follow. They included cardio, lots of mobility sessions and some light weight and strength training. Jessie still had to watch her food and just be mindful about anything she did, like she had to on a day-to-day basis throughout the season, but it gave you and her a bit more time and space to work with.
You'd gone back to Canada, accompanying Jessie on her two-week holiday back home. Her parents had welcomed the both of you with open arms and you could tell that your girlfriend really enjoyed a little getaway surrounded by home comforts. You slept in her childhood bedroom, visited all the places she used to hang out at as a kid and spent lots of time with her family. Almost every night was filled with board games and laughter, Jessie finally letting go and decompressing a little after a very stressful and tough season of football.
It was her first in Portland. She'd had a hard time settling in to her new surroundings initially, missing London and missing the familiarity of a club she had been at for a couple years. Everything was new for Jessie, and it overwhelmed her. New club, new country, new teammates, new apartment. You had moved with her – striking a deal with your boss that allowed you to work from America –, and as much as she appreciated having you by her side from the beginning it hadn't entirely settled her. A couple months in, when she also started to find her footing in the football and started playing more regular minutes, is when you finally saw she was growing back to her own self. She presented herself with more confidence on the pitch, and finally found her fun again in the sport rather than having a head hung low every time she came back from a training or match, claiming that she wasn't feeling good about the move and that she wanted nothing more than to go back.
Portland ended the season with a mid-table finish, nothing to bask about but the team and her were quite pleased with the performances they put on throughout the year. Now that Jessie was feeling more comfortable with her surroundings she was excited to get back going, but was also very eager to enjoy her two month break away from the pitch.
The two weeks in Canada flew by and before you knew it the both of you found yourselves back in your apartment in Portland. With 6 weeks left, Jessie decided she wanted to devote some of that time to the two courses of her degree she was yet to complete. She was nearly there, but hadn't found the time yet to study for two finals. It was normally busy all-year long and she would never really have the time to study for a final, but her free summer this year allowed her to pick it back up.
You knew how much finishing this degree meant to Jessie, school had always been a big priority of hers. Even though she loved the fact that she was able to make football her full time job, she often told you she found it unfortunate that she never really got to wrap up her degree like she should've, back in college. She wouldn't have traded her situation for the world, but you were happy for her that she would finally be able to wrap it up this summer. Jessie prided herself on her achievements in school, so you knew it would mean a lot to your Canadian to have an official degree in her bag.
So it begun. Jessie took up your spot in your home office to avoid any possible distractions, you moved your work to the dinner table. The house got very quiet throughout the days. Normally you'd have Jessie chewing your ear off about everything and nothing, talking about anything she'd come across in a book she was reading, on social media, on tv, etc. This time, though, it was eerily silent. Nothing could be heard in your apartment apart from the clicking of your keyboard and the occasional deep sigh that creeped through the door of your office, where Jessie was situated to study for her finals.
It was a new situation for the both of you, and it added a new layer of uncertainty on your relationship. You'd met Jessie when she played football in London, so you never knew what she was like when she studied. You weren't sure if she wanted you to be more or less present for her, whether she wanted you to do extra stuff for her or not, so it was a bit of a tricky situation.
It went by quick though, and before you knew, the final couple days of the three-week period were coming around. To say it had been easy would be a lie. Jessie retreated herself into your office for more than 8 hours a day, not coming out of there unless she had to pee or to go to bed. You knew it was gonna be hard to manage this new situation, but you didn't expect Jessie to be that detached from you and your relationship. As much as you understood that this was important for her, you couldn't help but feel the way you did.
You'd tried a couple things to connect with Jessie during the past weeks.
On most nights, Jessie only came to bed when the clock was nearing 12. You had your back turned to the door but you would hear when she came in, usually not able to sleep anyway when she wasn't in bed next to you. She would tiredly shrug off her clothes and put on some old football stuff and get in bed next to you, not bothering to check if you were still awake. By the time you turned back around and faced her in the hopes of getting a cuddles and kisses in, she'd be fast asleep. The early mornings and late nights were taking a toll on her, so she needed to get all the sleep she could get, rightfully. But to go to sleep without her goodnight kiss, wasn't something she would do.
By the time you woke up and were ready to start your day, Jessie had already gotten up. The first couple times you were taken aback by the way your hand was met with cold sheets when you rolled over, but you got used to it after a couple days. You got up and went about your morning routine trying your hardest not to disrupt Jessie from her studying. The first couple days you made her breakfast, but when you noticed she couldn't even spare a simple thank you or a kiss, you refrained from that too – lunch time was usually similar.
When you finished work around 4, you went for a walk. It's a habit you had picked up in your early days of living on Portland, when Jessie was usually at the club until 5 or 6. Especially now, you could use the time outside. It wasn't particularly because you needed to be alone – you practically were alone for 3 weeks –, but it helped you in clearing your mind. It was in those moments, when you could unwind yourself from the situation, that you could look at it with a more level-headed approach and could put into perspective the way Jessie was acting.
As the days rolled on, you noticed that Jessie was growing more and more tired. She came to bed later, alarms were set earlier and she didn't even eat the breakfasts or lunches you brought her. You knew she was dedicated and you certainly knew that she really wanted to do well on these finals, but Jessie was burning herself out and you wanted to find a way to stop that.
One night, while Jessie was out for a run – despite the studying, she still found time to stick to the training schedules as good as possible – and you were rotting away on the couch, you decided you could do something nice for her. You got up and made your way over to the kitchen, retrieving all the ingredients that you needed to make the soup that Jessie's mum always made for her when she was little. You figured a bit of home comforts would settle her down a little, and maybe you could even try and get through to her about how she was making matters worse for herself by barely sleeping and eating.
You played some soft tunes on the speaker in the kitchen and busied yourself with making the soup, time passing quite quickly while you were working on dinner.
You were just applying some finishing touches to the soup, adding a bit more spices here and there based on how it tasted, as you heard the front door opening. Jessie had made it back from her run and took off her shoes by the door, putting them neatly on the shoe rack. You heard footsteps padding down the hallway and moving towards the living room, deciding not to call her in just yet as she probably wanted to sit down for a couple minutes.
When you deemed the soup as just right, you retrieved two bowls from the cupboards and filled them with fresh soup. You'd made sure it was steaming hot, just the way Jessie liked it. You put the bowls on two trays paired with a couple slices of bread, before making your way over to the living room, where Jessie was still catching her breath from her run. She was scrolling on her phone and didn't hear you coming in until you sat down next to her, placing the trays down on the coffee table by the couch.
She looked at you with a grateful smile and you sat next to her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her ponytail. You pressed a soft kiss against her rosy cheeks, that were slightly cold at the touch. "I made you your favorite, figured you could use some veggies and a bit of home comforts," you said as you placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Jessie offered you a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before she frowned. "This is nice, but I'm quickly gonna take a shower first. I'm sweaty and I'm getting cold", Jessie started. You had a hard time concealing the disappointment you felt upon hearing her words, trying your best to keep your shoulders straight when they dared to slouch.
You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the rings on your hand before you replied. "It's warm now, you should eat Jess. You can shower after, it won't take long."
Your reply clearly fell on deaf ears, before you could even finish your sentence she had already gotten up and started making her way over upstairs and to the bathroom. "I won't be long. Thanks for dinner," she said before turning the corner and closing the bathroom door behind her.
You clasped your hands together in front of you and placed your elbows on your thighs, leaning on your hands and letting a couple minutes pass before you finally decided that you shouldn't let your bowl of soup go cold. As much as you were disappointed – and angry, probably – at Jessie, you knew you shouldn't let her demeanor ruin your night. You finished it all rather quickly, enjoying the food that reminded you of Jessie's home. You'd always felt really welcomed in her family and it was nice that you could do things like this that could remind you both of her childhood. On another day Jessie would've loved the fact that you made that soup, catering to her mum's recipe. Tonight though, it seemed like she couldn't care less.
You decided not to dwell on it too much and tried to take it in your stride, thinking she did appreciate it but really wanted a shower after her run. She didn't say she needed space, though, so when you had put your bowl in the dishwasher and put hers in the microwave for her to warm it up later, you went upstairs and made your way over to the bathroom, to see if you could potentially join your girlfriend in the shower.
You knocked on the door and heard a faint "come in," being said over the sound of the running water. You slowly opened the door and made your way inside, being met with the warm air of the shower. "Care if I join you," you tried.
Jessie turned off the water before she spoke. "I was just getting out, actually. I wanted to do a bit more work for school tonight and as it's already late, I should make it quick," Jessie replied. You nodded, but eventually gave her a verbal okay when you realized she couldn't see your face from behind the shower curtains. "Mhm, okay," you started, your voice a little shaky. "Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me."
You didn't await Jessie's reply before you made your way back downstairs and slouched down on the couch. You couldn't hold back the stray tear that made its way over your cheek as you started running through this evening's events in your head. You knew Jessie loved you. She loved you a ton, but she'd made it really hard recently for you to be aware of that. Tonight had been the worst it's been in over the past two weeks. She'd been distant, yes, but she had never turned down lunch or dinner before. Especially not when you'd make her something like you did tonight. As much as she'd spend most of her days away from you, if there was an opportunity to get some affection and be close to you, she'd grab it with both hands – which was the reason you found it weird she denied the opportunity to shower with you.
You heard Jessie emerge from the bathroom and pad her way over to your home office which was just across the hallway. You heard the door close and settled back down, deciding on watching some crappy reality tv to keep your thoughts at bay – not wanting to be an emotional wreck all evening because of how your girlfriend was acting.
A couple hours later, you felt yourself yawn and decided to call it a night. Your eyes widened when you checked your phone and the clock read quarter to 1. You hadn't realized it was already that late, you got caught up in your show and lost track of time. What worried you, though, is that Jessie hadn't left your office yet. This was the latest she'd ever worked and you were sure this wasn't a good move. Knowing her, she'd be up bright and early again tomorrow and if she wanted a couple hours of sleep, she really shouldn't be working this late.
You turned off the tv and made sure all the lights were out downstairs before you made your way upstairs. You tried your luck one final time with her, and while you were making your way over to the bedroom you took a quick stop at your office first. You didn't knock, just slowly opened the door and were met with the sight of your girlfriend's back, cladded in one of your old hoodies. You fully opened the door and leaned your body against the doorframe. "Come to bed, baby. It's late," you tried, in a soft voice. You heard a faint hum coming from your Canadian but she gave you nothing more than that, her eyes trained on the computer screen in front of her. Her final was coming up in a few days, she was cramming as much as she could but you were insistent that this wasn't the way she should be going about things. You approached her and put a hand on your shoulder.
"Jess, baby, it's almost 1," you rubbed her shoulder affectionately. "You really should get some sleep, you and I both know you and your brain will function better after a bit of rest," Jessie let out a deep exhale at your words.
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm quite certain I know myself what's best for me. I just wanna finish this bit, I'll be in bed soon," you didn't miss the hint of annoyance that seeped through her voice. She didn't snap at you, but it certainly didn't feel good. You nodded wordlessly and let go of her shoulder, silently making your way out of the room before heading back to your bedroom.
A little over 30 minutes later, Jessie was finally done for the day. She had wrapped up the chapter she wanted to finish and turned off her computer, leaving the room and going downstairs for a drink.
She noticed the bowl of soup that was still in the microwave and silently cursed herself for having forgotten about it. She knew you'd put your work into it and felt bad about how she had just left it to go cold, leaving you to your own devices for dinner. She heated it up and sat down to eat it, making sure your work didn't go to waste. She made sure to leave her empty bowl in the dishwasher and not in the sink, being mindful of the way she left the kitchen so you wouldn't wake up to any dishes. It doomed on her that she didn't treat you right tonight and felt bad about it.
She quietly made her way upstairs, not wanting to wake you, had you already fallen asleep. The bedroom door creaked when she opened it, Jessie narrowing her eyes while they adjusted to the dark room. She could make out your figure under the covers, back facing the door, a sight she'd grown used to the last two weeks when she entered the bedroom. It was only now that Jessie was slowly realizing how unreasonable she'd been towards you these last couple days. You had gone out of your way and beyond to make sure she could study in the best circumstances possible, and she'd disregarded that completely – not just that, she'd disregarded you.
She wanted to make it right and as much as she knew that 1am wasn't the time, she couldn't let it linger on. Jessie quickly changed into something more comfortable and made her way under the covers as silently as possible. You had indeed fallen asleep, soft snores coming from you as you stirred when Jessie's side of the bed dipped when she joined you.
Jessie pressed a couple soft kisses on your bare back, one of her arms coming to lay across your waist as she pulled your body into you. You stirred, slowly waking up as your girlfriend kept on pressing kisses against your body. You slowly opened your eyes and let them accustom to the dark room. Your gaze fell on the alarm clock that was on the nightstand, the time now reading 1:42am. You figured Jessie had only just joined you. You wanted to give in to her touch and turn around in her arms, wanting nothing more than to revel in the affection she was finally giving you – but decided you should give her a hard time. She had disregarded you lately, and you should let her know that you weren't pleased with how she acted the last two weeks.
"Baby, I know you're awake," she mumbled against her back. You hummed in response, unwrapping her arm from around your waist and scooting a bit further away from your Canadian. The silence that fell hurt you, but you didn't want to give in just yet. "I'm sorry, love. I know I've not been the best girlfriend the past couple weeks," she started. Her words were the only thing that could be heard in the room now, no noise coming from traffic outside or anything inside the house.
She tried her luck again and pulled you back against her, breathing out a soft sigh of relief when you didn't push her arm away this time. "I'm sorry, really. I've been super caught up with my work and didn't notice how hard I've been disregarding you, disregarding us."
You sighed and turned in Jessie's arms, snuggling your face in the crook of her neck and waiting for her to continue. You wanted to be annoyed at her but couldn't turn away from the warmth of her embrace. "I'll do better, I promise," she pressed a soft kiss to your crown. "Thank you for the soup, I really enjoyed it."
You lifted your head from your neck and looked at her, her eyes noticeably watery despite the darkness in the room. "You had some?"
She nodded, sporting a small smile. "Yeah, it was nice. Thank you, really. For everything you do. I don't think I've really noticed how much you do for me until now. You've really kept me standing this past period and I've not thanked you enough for it."
You cast your eyes down, a sad feeling washing over you upon hearing Jessie's words. She gently lifted your chin with her index and middle finger and pushed your head back up, her eyes locking with yours. "I appreciate you, baby. So much. I'm sorry I haven't shown you that lately."
Jessie's eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips and you saw how she tentatively started leaning closer. She left a little space between the both of you and left it for you to close, not wanting to cross any boundaries and kiss you if you weren't feeling like it.
You crossed the final bit of space that was left between the two of you and pressed your lips against hers. Jessie poured every ounce of love and adoration she had for you into the kiss, placing both of her hands on your cheeks and pulling you even closer. "I love you so much", she mumbled against your lips without breaking the kiss. You responded by kissing her harder, getting lost in the feeling of her lips against yours.
You only broke the kiss when you had to get some air, reluctantly letting go of Jessie's lips. "I love you too. I really do. And thank you for speaking to me about this," you started and took Jessie's hands in yours. "I have been feeling quite disregarded. I tried to put it down to just you being busy but tonight was a little too much."
Jessie nodded and acknowledged what you said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ears that had fallen in front of your face. "I know that I've been going about this the wrong way and I acknowledge that. I promise I'll do better."
You couldn't help a small smile creeping onto your face. You were happy with how tonight turned out, eventually. "I love you, Jess. Thank you."
"How about we get some sleep, hmm? I'll stay with you in bed tomorrow morning for as long as you want me to, I promise."
Your eyes lit up at the prospect of morning cuddles with Jessie, eagerly nodding and agreeing with her proposal. Your girlfriend chuckled at how excited you were at the simple idea of cuddling with her.
You pressed a final, tender kiss against Jessie's lips before you turned back around and wrapped her arm around your waist. Your Canadian pulled you tight against her, your back flush against her chest and she pressed a couple soft kisses against the nape of your neck before settling her head down on the pillow next to you.
"Goodnight baby, I love you." "Goodnight Jess, I love you too."
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