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#made the black of his arms a part of his nails
spacebubblehomebase · 6 months
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I don't think I've ever posted this here, but this is for that one #BibeNiLucifer trend thing going on. Luci's in his human form here because the church may call him a demonyo o bakla with all that "make-up" on his face. Which, fair enough, but still. XD He's supposed to be incognito while traveling the Philippines. Lmaooo I can just imagine Aling Susan chasing him around with a walis tingting and her gossiping with the other ninangs about that "porener na mukhang bading" LOLOLOL. 🐤🐤🐤
He's such a ✨️bibegurl.✨️💅
-Bubbly💙
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE'S MINE | 01
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I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊  3.2k
author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!
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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…
But it wasn’t. 
He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 
You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 
“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 
Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 
Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.
“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 
You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 
“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 
Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 
“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”
Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 
“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 
Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.
“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”
“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 
You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 
You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”
He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 
Shit. Strike two. 
You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”
Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 
“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 
He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 
“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 
“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 
“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.
Strike three. 
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THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 
Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 
He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 
“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 
“No.” You replied bluntly.
“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 
“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 
“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 
And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 
It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 
It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.
“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 
“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”
At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 
“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 
“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 
For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.
You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 
“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 
“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 
He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 
“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”
“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 
“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 
“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 
He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.
“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 
He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 
“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”
“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 
“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 
He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 
“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”
He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.
“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 
He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 
“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 
Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 
Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 
You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 
He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 
Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 
“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 
“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 
Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp
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oreo-creampie · 7 months
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“𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫’𝐬”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! praising degradation, daddy/mama/brat, hints of jealousy/possessive!stoner!suguru, squirting, teasing, choking, squirting, mating press, pain kink, size kink, two fingers in your ass, mindbreak/getting cockdrunk, begging, a momentary just the tip moment, riding him, overstimulation, breeding, stuffing his cum into you, some spanking
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! I have a praise kink and a degradation kink, I need Geto to tell me that I'm his favourite dirty little slut and absolutely nail me to the mattress while doing 🥵🥵🥵
Oreo: I was thinking of a part two of stoner!suguru with this one, even though he doesn't smoke. I like the follow up of him finally deciding he wants to be more than just friends
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Slapping your soft cunt and yanking your legs back open when you go to black the next hit. He demands, “Color?” Leaning forward, towering over you to make you feel smaller.
Using his weight to keep you pinned in a firm mating press. His thick cock nudging your soft cunt. Shoving your hips trying to best to glide an inch in your sore cunt. Eager for the sweet pleasure to cut through the pain.
You whine, “Green! Please don't be mad! I didn't mean to make you jealous, didn't think.” He grabs your throat, tightly squeezing.
“Didn't think I’d want your beautiful ass all to myself?” Softly kissing your forehead, smiling down at you tightening his grasp around your neck.
He croons, “Mama we've been living together and fucked on nearly every surface of his apartment. N’ you spent every night in my bed, so tell me whose are you?” Letting your neck go, grabbing your hands putting them above your hand.
“Who takes care of you?” By the time you catch your breath, he slaps your cunt harder than before. Stuffing one thick finger in softly curling it stroking your sweet spot to ease your discomfort.
Reaching for Suguru he pins your wrists together with one large hand. Gliding a second finger in, touching your clit, and then nothing. Suguru refuses to move his fingers.
The lack of stimulation makes it easier to think. You look into Suguru’s loving, dark chocolate eyes. “You do! I love the life we have made, our routine. I adore how you notice the little things about me.” He pumps his fingers twice, then stops. “I love the softness in your voice when you say name.” He softly rubs your clit and slowly pumps his fingers, stroking your sweet spot.
He purses his lips and looks at his side table whilst admitting, “I supposed I never outright asked you.” The passionate, hungry intensity in his dark brown eyes is exciting. Suguru glides his fingers out smirking when you whine.
Dipping his head watching your soft hole clenching nothing. “This is also too much fun. I’ll take any chance I get to fuck into your head that you’re mine.” Teasing you with a small swirl of his thumb.
“Please!” Wiggling your hips trying to slips his thumb in, Suguru pulls away. Leaving you on the edge of the bed with your legs spread and your cunt yearning to stimulation.
Opening the bottom bedside drawer pulling out a long black box. Taking out a necklace whilst walking around the bed, standing in front of it. There is a S dangling from a thin chain.
He softly smiles, “Do you wanna be with me?” He unfastens the clasp holding the necklace open.
You stand up on his bed “Yes!” Wrapping your arms around him. Suguru bites the second his head gets near your chest. You cunt clenches from the sweet pain.
Slipping your hand into Suguru’s soft hair, softly tugging making him groan and bucks his hips. “Sit down for me mama lemma slip this on you before I rearrange your guts.” You kneel close to the edge of the bed.
Suguru carefully puts the necklace on you. He softly kisses the top of your head. You insist, “I need to get you something, or do something for you.” He grabs your throat pinning you to the bed, slapping your soft cunt.
“How about you take my cock like a good slut?” He grabs his cock, lining himself up. Giving your neck a tighter squeeze before letting go. He leans back to watch your soft tight cunt stretch for his thick cockhead.
He grabs your thighs, pinning you in a mating press. Groaning as he glides his thick head in and out. Watching the soft ridge of his cock head tug on your soft cunt. “Such a pretty little cunt, love see her stretch nm grip my cock like she doesn’t wanna let me go.”
You plea, “Please lemme feel the rest of you. Wanna feel all of your cock! Daddy please!” He roughly rocks his hips forward, giving you all of his thick veiny cock.
Suguru doesn’t move his hard cock, stroking your clit. Groaning when you clench him. He croons, “Daddy what? I’m letting you feel all of my cock what else doesn’t my pretty little slut need?”
Begging Suguru, “Daddy please fuck me! Fuck your slut into a stupid mess! Wanna be your beautiful spoiled cocky sleeve. Please fuck me however you want!” He grabs your hips, lifting your lower half off the bed.
Using his firm grasp to help you meet his rough thrusts. His hips slapping yours. The bed softly rocking, his heavy wooden headboard tapping the wall. “Nnn fuck fuck fuck! Gonna breed ya? Ya want that? Ya wanna be pretty little cum filled whore?” Your cunt spams around his cunt.
His hard cock stroking, stretching and hitting your cunt perfectly. Sweet intense pleasure makes it hard to think. Why should you bother when you can mindlessly take Suguru’s fat cock?
“Nnnnn! Hhhhnnn! Mmm fuckkkk! Feelsgoodfeelsnnn!” You grab the bedsheets. Unable to think about anything else but how good his cock feels in your cunt. Nothing else matters but your boyfriend’s large hands, thick cock, sweet groans, and the way he is admiring you.
Suguru croons, “Are ya my mindless cock hungry slut? Mmm? Want me to bully your soft tight cunt?” Keeping his pace the same and fucking his cock into you hard.
You muster the words to answer Suguru beyond, “Daddy! Daddy! Nnn! Bully the brat outta me!” Suguru leans over you, grabbing your neck to lift you off the bed. You feel so small in his grasp, so perfectly helpless to do anything but take his cock.
Bouncing you faster on his thick cock, his moans getting louder, breathier. “Sofuckingood wanna cum in your soft cunt! Been thinking about it all I’ve been able to think about since I saw you flirting with him. I should’ve fucked in ya in the bathroom then sent you back over with my cum leaking out.” Your cunt clenches.
Suguru smirks, “Of course a slut like you would like that. You’re daddy’s little slut, remember that.”
You’re getting on his possessiveness and manhandling. Grabbing his thick hard biceps, digging in your nails when he flexes. “Daddy’s so big!” Your words trigger something within Suguru.
Without gliding his cock out he flips you over pinning you to the bed. With your ass arched in the air and a firm grasp on your hair, keeping your face out of the pillow.
Using his weight to keep you from wiggling away from him mercilessly. “Gonna fuck my cum into you, don’t wanna stop. Wanna keep fucking my big cock into your sweet cunt.” You can feel his cock’s veins pulse as he’s getting closer.
His balls are slapping your clit with each rough thrust. Your ass clapping, your soaking wet cunt squelching.
You love how whiny Suguru is the closer he is. The way his body shivers on top of you, his rough smooth pace momentarily faltering. He whines, “What am I?”
Slipping your fingers into Suguru’s soft dark hair. “Daddy! Mine! Daddy! You’re too much! Too much! Too good. Please cum!” He yanks your head to the side, hunching over to bite your throat.
Warm thick cum trickles and spurts into your soft cunt. Your cunt spasms then gush, thick slick trickling down your thighs. Suguru groans, his pace sloppy and rough.
There is something so carnal about Suguru biting your keep whilst firmly pinning you down to fuck his cum into. You want more, more of his thick cock and warm cum.
You whine, grinding your hips when he falters and stops. “Suguru!” He rolls over with you on top. Keeping his cum deep in you with his cock.
Right away you take the chance, grabbing his thick thighs, lifting your hips, and bouncing on Suguru’s cock. Moaning, trembling, toes curling. Getting off on using his cock like a dildo. Whilst knowing your soft tight cunt is overwhelming him with each stroke.
Leaning forward giving him a good view of your soft cunt taking his cock. His thick cum trickles out of your cunt and coats his thick cock. “Can’t get over how deep your fat cock is. It’s stuffing your cum in so deep!”
Looking over your shoulder to see Suguru. “Thought you were gonna teach my slutty ass a lesson?” Suguru smirks then sucks on two thick fingers. Your cunt clenches when he touches your asshole. Smearing his spit then gliding both fingers in.
He stretches his fingers apart spreading your asshole. Your pace falters, he isn’t moving his fingers. “Teach you what? That you’re such a desperate whore. I think ya know that with how you’re bouncing on my thick cock like it’s all you can think about.” Slowly fucking his fingers into your soft ass.
“Go on mama tire your little pretty bratty ass out. I wanna hear you beg me to fuck ya when your legs get too tired.”
Oreo m.list
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lewisvinga · 2 months
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my special girls | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; one of the greatest days in lewis’ life, his 104th win and the birth of his daughter.
warnings; mentions of pregnancy/labor, probs labor inaccuracies
word count; 1.4k
all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts
note; i need to see more lewis fics after 104th🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️BUT ALZKLALSSM 104TH THATS MY GOATTTT THATS WHY HE’S THE GOATT😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
The Mercedes garage was tense, more tense than usual. The final laps of the British Grand Prix made everyone nervous and anxious. Lewis was just laps away from his 104th win.
Both George, who unfortunately had to retire due to issues with his car, and Carmen stood by a very anxious 9-month pregnant Y/n Hamilton. Although Lewis advised his wife to stay home due to how far along she was in her pregnancy despite it being his home race, she refused.
Carmen held onto her hand, their eyes focused on the screen as the final lap began. Although she was also upset with what happened to George, the couple couldn’t help but feel happy for the 7x world champion.
Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis drove around the final corners. Y/n didn’t notice anything happening around her, her focus completely on the screen.
‘Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix.’
Those 8 words the married couple longed to hear were finally being said. Y/n carefully but quickly jumped up from her seat, cheering loudly as her husband passed the checked flag. With one hand around her pregnant stomach and the other being thrown in the air while crying, she didn’t even notice the faint cramping in her abdomen.
The team rushed to meet up with Lewis, Carmen staying behind to help Y/n who slowly waddled behind the rushing team. She couldn’t hold back her tears as she watched her husband hugging his father in tears.
She stayed with the Spanish girl, not wanting to be within the grand crowd for safety reasons. Her vision was cloudy from tears. There were black smudges around her eyes as she carefully wiped her eyes to not mess up her cheeks.
Through her teary eyes, she could see the deep brown eyes she fell in love with years ago right in front of her.
Lewis carefully wrapped his arms around her, keeping a hand on her stomach. “My loves.” He whispered, pressing a kiss against her plump lips. “You both okay?
Y/n reaches up to carefully wipe the stray tears on his cheek. “Worrying about me after winning?” She teases through tears. “We’re fine and we’re so proud of you.” She cradled his face in her hands.
Only she knew how much Lewis had truly struggled after that day in 2021. She knew the mental anguish he went through whenever a race went poorly, so desperate to prove to others he was still as good as he was in his prime. She knew how hurt he had been with what was happening with Mercedes, wanting to spend his last season with the German team in a good way.
It seemed everything he had been through was worth it when Y/n revealed she was pregnant. Suddenly, everything didn’t matter. He just wanted to be there for his wife and child.
9 months later, he was washed over with a large wave of emotions as he passed the checkered flag knowing his pregnant wife was in the crowd.
“Gotta make sure my girls are okay,” Lewis mumbled, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Her long nails gently scratched his scalp. She hummed as she felt him press a kiss on her shoulder. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Y/n whispered back as he lifted his head from her hold. She gestured toward where the reporter was waiting for a quick post-race interview before the podium. “Go, my love, we’ll be waiting for you after you’re all done.”
With one last kiss, Lewis left her to do his post-race interview. She left with Carmen to slowly waddle walk back to the garage. She didn’t feel quite comfortable being part of the crowd during the podium celebration so she opted to watch from the TV in the garage.
They had barely made it back when Y/n suddenly felt another sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt a small puddle of liquid by her feet. Carmen and her look down at the puddle before making eye contact.
“The baby?” The Spanish girl questioned, trailing off when the pregnant woman nodded.
“Is coming.”
Lewis’s mother, Carmen, had kept a close eye on her daughter-in-law the entire day. She noticed the panicked look on both of the girls’ faces and rushed over to them. “Is everything alright, dear?”
“Her water broke.” The Spanish girl explained, keeping her hand interlocked with the laboring woman.
“Don’t tell Lewis yet. I want him to enjoy this day.” Y/n said in between deep breaths. Before either woman could protest, she added, “Do not test me right now. The contractions aren’t bad yet and I don’t want to go to the hospital until there are a few minutes in between.”
“Let’s take you to his driver's room then, dear.” The elder Carmen says, taking her daughter-in-law in her arms and helping her. The younger Carmen followed behind due to the two becoming quite close.
Time had passed and Lewis was finishing up all his media duties. He wanted nothing more than to be in the embrace of his wife on such a special day. His eyebrows furrowed up when he couldn’t find her in the garage. He looked around confused until he saw Carmen appear out of his motor room looking distressed as she spoke with George who was waiting outside.
“What's going on?” Lewis asked confused, feeling a surge of worry running through his veins.
“Y/n, her water broke earlier and we wanted to get you but she refused! Your mom only let her refuse because her contractions weren’t too bad yet,” The Spanish girl explained to Y/n’s worried husband. “But they’re getting closer now so I came to get you and-“
Lewis didn’t let her finish before rushing into his motorhome. He spotted Y/n leaning against the wall with his mother supporting her by her arm. “My love, why’d you wait this long?” He softly says, quietly thanking his mother before taking her place with his wife.
“Wanted you to enjoy this day and your win-“
“But you’re pregnant and in labor. This is far more important and urgent.”
“So does that mean we can go to the hospital now?”
Lewis sighed, shaking his head as a smile crept up on his lips. He turned to his mom before grabbing Y/n’s bag, “I’ll take her now. I’ll keep you updated.”
His mother simply nodded and gave her son a kiss on his cheek. She gives Y/n an encouraging smile before whispering, “If your daughter is anything like my son, it’ll be a fast delivery.”
Y/n chuckled at her words before waving goodbye to her. Lewis sighed as he easily scooped her up in his arms. Fortunately, George had called an ambulance which was waiting by the entrance of the paddock just in time.
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Although winning after so long at home was so special to Lewis, he knew nothing could beat what he currently felt as he cradled the tiny baby in his arms.
Hours before he held the golden trophy signifying he won his 104th race. Now, he’s holding one of the most important girls in his life.
Just like her father, little Ophelia came out fast. Y/n was only in the hospital for an hour or so before it was time for her to push. Tears hadn’t stopped flowing from their faces from the moment Lewis won to even after Ophelia’s birth.
“What a day.” Y/n sleepily chuckled, waking up from a nap that had been knocked out for a while. Lewis turned around with a sleeping Ophelia still in his arms. “You win a race and you get a daughter who is identical to you even if I carried her for 9 months?”
“How are you feeling?” He asked his wife who scooted over to the side, signaling for him to sit next to her.
“Tired. Happy, but tired.” She immediately melted into his side.
She gently runs her finger over Ophelia’s cheek. The newborn was still in deep sleep, clearly exhausted after being born just a few hours earlier.
Lewis couldn’t help but admire the two. June 7th was undoubtedly one of the happiest days of his life. He’s won many times before. He’s won trophies and world championships. Winning at home after 3 years was something special. But winning in life with his wife by his side and his daughter in his arms was something unexplainable.
He leaned down to press a kiss on Ophelia’s forehead before pressing a kiss against Y/n’s lips. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two. My special girls.”
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angelplummie · 4 months
Note
ur art baby trapping fic is all i can think abt btw
but but but. what if after the first time it becomes a regular occurrence, and after the first few times, when he buries himself as deep as his long cock can go inside you and cums so hard he loses vision, you think maybe it’s time to be safe again. you’ve taken a few pregnancy tests, and it’s seeming like you’re getting away with the risky sex, but the risk is not worth the reward.
you saunter into the kitchen one morning, were art reads the news on his laptop, sipping a black tea. what a serious man you were dating. your arms snake around his neck loosely, and you kiss this top of his blonde head.
��i’m gonna order some more birth control. what’s that gynos number again? i know i wrote it down somewhere but i can’t remember.”
art stilled. he placed the mug squarely on a coaster.
“you don’t need that.”
he reached up to hold your forearm gently, to ghost the pad of his thumb against your soft skin.
“well, i do a little bit. we’ve been lucky, but if we keep going raw we might be in trouble. then you’ll be stuck with me forever.”
he hummed, stomach flipping. you were so close to figuring him out.
“that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
“what?”
he kissed the peach fuzz of your arm.
“i’d like being stuck with you.”
you didn’t let go, but you didn’t move either.
“are you saying you hope i get pregnant?”
“no,” he lied softly,”but if you did, that would also make me happy. wouldn’t it make you happy?”
you inhaled, shocked.
“i guess. i don’t- i don’t know how i would feel. i haven’t given it much thought. have you?”
he moved to get up, and you stepped back, unfurling yourself from him.
the chair scraped against the floor, and you watched arts feet as he moved around it to get back to you. he turned to face you, beautiful face set in a knowing, subtle smile. he took your face in his long hands, one on either side of your jaw.
“i’ve thought about a future with you and being with you forever, and about having a baby with you.”
your lips parted slightly, that rosy feeling cresting your cheeks and nose.
“i love you very much. i want you very much. is it that strange to think i might want to start a family with you?”
a cloudy feeling, humid and twinkly, filled your head. you drew in breath, but before you could make any kind of reply he kissed gently on your forehead, which nullified the part of your brain that might have any problem with what art was saying ever.
“why is that strange baby?”
“it’s not strange.”
“that’s right.”
and he pulls you into his chest. your arms remain tucked to you, and he wraps himself around you. tenderly his chin rests on your hair, and your breath in his smell. art was so clean, and so smart and kind. and he loved you. he wanted to be with you. you were so lucky.
“i love you.”
“i love you too.”
and that night, when he got you on top of him, cock buried deep in your tiny cunt, he made you feel even luckier. you were so wet it spilled down his shaft that split you open, down to his round full balls. his hands were clamped like shackles around your hips, preventing you from moving.
your hands splayed on his perky chest, you frowned in an effort to not fall apart, and he watched you with unbridled glee. you try to bounce, and your tits shake, but he holds you in place, all your leg muscles no match for the few at work in his arms. he watches as your titties settle still, his soft little angel.
“art please,” you dig your nails into his pillowy chest, but he doesn’t even flinch as you turn his pale skin pink.
“yes please,” you whisper. he smiles, thinly veiling his glee.
“you wanna ride me?”
your pussy clenches. even bellow you, he’s so far above. so much wiser and calmer.
“i’ll let you. on one condition.”
his fingers dug into your love handles, leaving white marks on your side. he readjusted himself, burying his cock inside your further, making you huff.
“tell me,” your cunt was so tight he had to pause as it squeezed him,” that you want me to get you pregnant. say the words.”
you blinked, trying to direct any of your attention away from the pseudo-pain of having him inside you still. his demanding tone alone makes your cunt throb, and wet his fat cock even more.
“what?”
“tell me you want me to cum inside you raw.”
your head tips back, and you swallow.
“i want you,” you say, thoughtless, desperate, so cock hungry it makes arts chest heave under your talons,” to cum inside me raw. get me pregnant please. please art, just fuck me.”
art grunted, and squeezed your hips even harder.
“yeah? you want that?”
and he drew you up on his dick, biting his lip hard enough to leave indents, to split skin.
he guided you up, so that only his pink tip stayed hooked inside your tight pussy hole.
yeah was the only word you could form, and you said it over and over like it was his name, like it was a prayer.
“ok baby. whatever you want.”
and he drove himself into you, holding you above him like an oversized fleshlight. you sounded like a fleshlight too, wet and soft and malleable to him. a wet schlick permeated the room with every thrust as he held you, suspended in the air, and fucked you like you weighed nothing.
your grip dragged up to his forearm, leaving a pink trail in your wake, jaw tipping open.
“art, art, art.”
as he moves sharply in and out, pounding your pussy, you legs turn to jelly, and you feel the distinct urge to writhe. you resist, and instead jerk with his every movement, moaning pathetically.
“you’re so tight. god,” he spits through gritted teeth. it’s like he’s angry at you, and he bullies your little cunt like he hates you. but he doesn’t hate you, he loves you very much. he can’t believe your his, he can’t believe you want to be his forever. he will make you happy. he will. you just have to give him a child.
his v-line and his hips crash into the softness of your thighs and make loud slaps. he grunts as he feels the tip split you open time and time again. you feel it, a deep thud inside you every time he presses down, and you whine absently.
“art, hold me.”
“what?”
“hold me.”
immediately, he rises from his lying position and props himself up on his head board, yanking you to him again. and then you were face to face, with his tousled blonde hair and blue, honest eyes, and his beautiful face. just as you asked, he held you. two strong arms encircled you waist, pushing your tits up on his chest.
digging his heels into the bed, he began pumping, buried so deep that he could only work the last increments of his cock into you. your eyes are misty, are big and desperate. your open mouth
"you ok?"
"yeah. I love you."
"mm."
and he kissed you again, tongue pawing at the inside of your mouth, like a kitten at a ball of yarn. he moaned rhymically, with every beat of your little heart. every moment you lived as his was total pleasure. you inched your hips forwards and back, against the force of his thrusts and kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, his neck.
“you’re so beautiful,” he huffs,”you’re so pretty. i’m gonna get you pregnant.”
“please.”
“yeah, i know you want that.”
“yeah, i want it.”
you fuck yourself on him, and he kisses you again, harder, messier, noses smushing and tongues moving against each other.
“oh,” he says, and you know he’s close. so you say him what he wants to hear. what you know he’s wanted to hear this whole time. your clit presses against his pelvis, and as you tip over the edge you give him what he needs, like a good girl. friend. a good girlfriend.
“daddy, daddy.”
and it’s over. his grip tightens, pressing you harder against him so you can’t move at all in his lap. his hips stutter, and he lets out a grunting, groaning whine into your cheek, into your ear.
his balls tighten and twitch, and a fat load spurts inside you, clinging to your cervix and dribbling out of your spasming hole.
“fuck, god.”
one arms stays around your back, the other reaches up to your neck, to caress the skin and reach up into your hair. to stroke your jaw with his thumb as you both pant, slack jawed and satisfied.
“fuck.”
“art?”
“yeah?”
“i bet that did it. i bet i’m pregnant.”
“i bet you are. are you scared?”
you looked at each other and smiled, wide and goofy, forehead to forehead.
“no. are you? i really mean it, you’re never getting rid of me now.”
“darn.”
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solbaby7 · 6 months
Note
Holy mother of pearl I need a part 3 of blurred lines like I need air to breathe
as you wish. but this lil blurb is it y’all 🤣
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[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ]
Rhysand was being obnoxious.
Unreasonably jealous and filled with a need like no other—almost comparable to the one induced by the powder that still burned in your system—his mouth wouldn’t stop latching to the marks Azriel had sucked into your neck. “Don’t get all quiet on me now,” Rhys huffs out, teeth nipping at your ear from behind.
Water sloshes over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor and the clothes scattered in it but neither of you can find it in you to care. Not when Rhys’ cock felt so deep, fucking into the swollen mess of your pussy like it was the first time all over again. “Azriel’s still here. It’s rude.”
“Don’t,” He’s vicious in his reprimand, guiding you up and down the girthy length of him with ease. Nails bite into already bruised flesh but the relief overrides the temporary discomfort. “—ever say another males name while I’m fucking you.”
A low hum dips in your throat. “Jealousy’s sexy on you, High Lord.” The soft fat of your breasts drag against the rising muscles of his chest, manicured nails raking through strands of silky obsidian. “Worried he did a better job? Lived up to the rumors about those great, big wings of his?”
The hand that splays across the length of your neck is unforgiving when he pulls you in closer, noses touching and breath mingling when a growl grows in his chest. It should spark fear, force your heartbeat to rise but all you feel is the electrifying tingle of anticipation. “Did he?”
“Maybe,” You shrug, feigning nonchalance but you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside you. There’s no friction, just fullness as your arms remain looped over broad shoulders, cool air nipping at wet skin. “Can’t remember—was a little out of it.”
“Is that right?” Rhysand’s eyes glaze over a moment, a dark smirk forming on regal features. Through the drug induced haze, you have half the sense to notice the shift in the air. Gone is the mate willing to offer endless coddling and comforting words crooned into the sensitive spot below your ear. Sweet touches are replaced with the all-consuming power that made Rhys the most dangerous of all the High Lords; dark magic cloaking the bathing chamber in pitch black, cutting off all sense of sight and distorting sound. “Shall I give you a refresher?”
Familiar talons tease at the barrier of your mental walls, itching to sink in and take the reins. Goosebumps swarm your skin despite the warmth of the water lapping at your legs. “Do as you please—take notes if you must.”
Your mates leniency towards your steadily growing snark seems to dwindle with each sentence spoken and he’s less than gentle when breaching the boundaries of your mind, rooting around as if he owned the place. Rhys yanks the offending memory forward, his presence lingering at your back, breath tickling at your neck as you’re forced to watch with him.
Watch you and Azriel—the fucked out glaze in your eye. The moans and hoarse screams for it harder. Deeper. “It surprises me that you could’ve forgotten this,” Rhysand taunts, chuckling to himself at the pliant lean of your body when his hands mimic Azriel’s. Fingers pinch at hardened nipples, copying the cruel pace set until witty remarks fizzled away; all the spark snuffed out by alluring darkness and the delicious drag of Rhysand’s cock inside of you. Your eyes begin to flutter closed when a hand curls around your jaw, face forcefully raised to keep watching. “Pay attention,” The rasp in his tone shoots right between your thighs and it’s impossible to resist wiggling your hips, meeting every thrust until you swore you could feel both of them at the same time. “Don’t look away,” He commands, barely winded. “Or I’ll stop and leave you here to ride this out on your own.”
Thank the Mother he was standing behind you, unable to catch the harsh bite of your lip and the pitiful wobble of your chin. But still, you obeyed. Never tearing your eyes away for even a second as Rhysand fucked into you, hands gripping at your hips and wandering the length of your body before the touches began to lose its synchronicity. “It’s so deep,” The whine is abruptly cut off, a palm pressed against your lips as he manually silences you.
“That’s not what you said to him.” One finger raised from your face to point at the memory, Azriel’s gruff words muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Every nerve burns, muscles screaming with tension as that coil tightened more and more and more in the pit of your belly. “I thought you were worried about Az hearing you, pretty girl?” Your neck cranes as he pulls your back flush to his chest, resting your head on his shoulder but the devastating thrust of his hips don’t stop and the angle threatens to force your eyes closed. “Don’t be fucking rude.”
It’s torture; trying to remain quiet with so much happening. You swear you can feel Azriel’s hands on your body, skipping past Rhys’ own while twin tongues taste at your neck. Your sounds muffle against his palm, water splashing and skin slapping until four hands became too much for one body.
“He didn’t fuck you like this,” The High Lord all but snarls in your ear, two strong fingers rubbing at your clit in firm circles. “Say it.”
“He didn’t—“ You stammer over the words, garbled syllables rumbling against the hand that slides back down to your throat and the memory is shoved away; tucked in a box and lock deep within the corners of your mind. “He didn’t fuck me like this. Not how you do.”
Plush lips kiss at sweat-slick cheeks, tongue claiming at the line of your jaw and teeth sink into the already bruised expanse of your neck. “Now say it like you mean it.”
It’s too much, the teasing and that possessive bite in his grip. “No one does it like you, Rhys.” You’re so close, fingers digging into the edge of the tub, back arching into him as you teetered that line—coil threatening to give at any second. “No one ever will.”
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yandere-daydreams · 11 months
Text
Title: Creature Feature.
Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.
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You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.
It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.
And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.
Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.
Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.
He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.
You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.
The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.
You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”
Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—
Your husband wasn’t here.
Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.
You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”
It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”
Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.
His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.
“I’m yours.”
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earlgreydream · 1 year
Text
shattered. | tommy shelby x reader angst
He promised you.
tommy shelby angst. because my heart aches.
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"Where is he?" You demanded, glaring hard at Arthur.
Thomas' brother avoided your eyes, muttering to get back behind the bar at the Garrison. You reached out and shoved his shoulder, knocking him back against the bar, catching him off-balance.
"Don't ya fuckin' lay your hands on me, woman!" Arthur yelled at you, getting in your face.
"Tell me where Tommy is!" you yelled back, feeling dozens of shocked eyes boring into you.
You weren't afraid of anything, not even the Shelby's. You had been looking for Tommy, who had promised to meet you at the train station. You'd waited for him on the platform, suitcase in hand, waiting to be whisked off to France with Tommy.
Thomas Shelby had promised to take you to France.
.
"Tommy," you called to him, walking into his office.
You climbed onto his desk, sitting in front of him as he leaned back, taking a drag from the cigarette between his full lips. His large hand came down to your thigh, squeezing gently and rubbing your leg.
"Come to bed," you whispered, lips hovering over his cheek before pressing a kiss against his warm skin.
"I'm workin'"
You shifted, moving the straps of your slip off your shoulders, the delicate fabric fluttering down to gather around your waist, tempting Tommy with your bare upper body. He leaned back, taking a good look at you as he smoked, dark blue eyes drinking in every inch of you.
"But I need you," you whined, parting your thighs and pulling back the fabric to show him your sex, dripping with desire for him.
"Jesus fucking christ," Thomas swore, pushing your knees open as you tried to close them, teasing him.
"Come to bed."
He stood so abruptly you jumped, the mobster towering over you. After putting out his cigarette, Thomas lifted you up under your knees, carrying you upstairs naked, leaving your flimsy slip on his desk downstairs.
Within minutes, you were writhing on his sheets, pulling hard at his ink-black hair as he ate you out mercilessly. His hot tongue lapped up everything you had to give him, tasting you until you were reduced to ragged screams.
The first time you came on his tongue, but he promised more, moving over you to bury his cock in your soaking pussy, pounding hard and deep as you clung desperately to him. Your nails dragged red lines down his freckled back, your face buried into his shoulder, muffling your moans as his hips connected with yours.
He kissed your neck as you threw your head back, unable to stop a second orgasm from shattering through your body, squeezing tightly around him, pulling Thomas into the chasm with you.
"Don't, don't," you begged hoarsely as he tried to pull out, grabbing his arm to stop him.
"What? You want to warm my cock?"
"Please, stay inside me for a little longer," you begged, exhaling as he settled down, halfway on top of you, buried inside.
"I want to get away from here," you whispered, brushing his hair from his eyes, his head lying on your chest.
"I want to take you away from here," Thomas confessed, squeezing your waist, burying his face in you, fantasizing about taking you away from all of the violence of his job, to live happily together somewhere west of Paris.
"It will be perfect. We'll have horses, I'll paint your barn red," he promised, his fingers gently stroking your bare skin as he spoke.
"I've never wanted anything else other than to be with you," you confessed.
"I'll get you away from here, I promise."
.
You had waited at the train station, and he never came. You watched the train to Paris come and go, shattering the pieces of your heart and dragging them away with it. Your throat was raw as you made the long walk back to the Garrison to look for him, to figure out why the hell he had stood you up and left you alone.
"John! Where the fuck is Tommy?!" you shouted, looking at his younger brother, turning away from Arthur after getting nowhere with him.
John looked at his feet, refusing to answer you. You picked up a glass off the bar and threw it at the floor, watching it shatter - just like your heart.
"Stop it, right now."
You knew the commanding voice anywhere - Tommy walked out from the back, his eyes hard as he stared you down.
"Where were you?!" you demanded furiously, your chest heaving as you forced back sobs.
"You will not continue to make a scene in my bar," he spoke with unwavering authority, stepping back and opening the door, silently instructing you to follow him.
"You will not tell me what to do!" the words burned your throat, your heel hitting the wooden floor with a resounding crack that sent a wave of certainty up your spine.
You could tell he was fighting back emotion as he walked up to you and grabbed your elbow. He was careful not to hurt you, but dragged you into the privacy of the back room.
"Let go!"
He released you, leaning back against the closed door so you couldn't get past him, trapping you in the room.
"Why, Tommy?" you asked, your voice shaking.
"I had to accept an engagement deal to the prime minister's daughter. It's for business, we need it to-"
You stepped back like you'd been slapped, a sharp pain exploding through your chest.
"For your business? Last night, you promised to leave it all behind and get away with me," you were unable to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He leaned forward to touch you, but you drew away, backing against the opposite wall, putting as much space as he could between the two of you. Tommy brought his knuckles to his mouth, exhaling a wounded sigh into his hand.
"I have to do this, for my brothers."
"You promised me, Tommy. You slept inside of me last night! You said you loved me!" you screamed, breaking down into full-out sobs, crumbling into pieces.
The pain in his eyes was evident, but it only made you angrier. He had chosen his business over you, a loveless marriage over you - over all of the promises he made under the moon. Years of love and sex and memories shattered in a day, and you were left with no idea how to pick up the pieces.
"It's not just about me, it's not just about you."
"That's a weak excuse," you hissed, slapping his hand away when he reached out to touch you.
"I do love you," he whispered.
"You broke my heart, Thomas Shelby."
3K notes · View notes
sunnami · 3 months
Text
the marauders as. . . whatever these love languages are (i).
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a/n: i got addicted to writing drabbles. . .
“i’m touch-starved.”
there’s not a day where 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 isn’t holding onto you like a lifeline—a tether to this world when he feels like he’s about to float away. on mornings where he wakes up back in his childhood bedroom, portraits of jaundiced ancestors hurling insults at him as though he hasn’t already heard it all from his benevolent mother—he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, there you are. gone are the colorless walls of his early years, instead he’s drowning in the shades of you.
you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and the bursting hues of his devotion. he’s never been fluent in ‘i love you’ but for you, he wants to learn every language there is, so as long as you know that he is yours. yours to command, yours to throw away one day, yours to love—his soul and heart are utterly and irrevocably yours.
he pulls you closer to him because sirius black is a mad man, selfishly burrowing in your warmth like he’s been trudging through an eternal winter, desperate for light and the relief of your lips. sirius wraps his arms around your waist, as if to protect you from the sunlight—because you are his and not even the threat of tomorrow can take you away. he wants to stay close with you like this forever. until neither knows where they begin or end. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck—wondering if you’ll be cross if he pilfers a taste of your skin. the sound of your heartbeat is more beautiful than any orchestra symphony—he thinks your voice is what heaven’s choir is made of.
sirius splays his fingers on your bare stomach, his loose shirt riding up your waist. he aches, and oh, how he burns for you. he’s never been one for tears, but he finds that the reprieve of your touch can bring a wayward man to his knees. you are, in every essence, the answer to his prayers and the pardoning of his sins. he chases you like a drunkard drawn to firewhiskey—he’s afraid that you’ve gone and gotten him addicted to you.
to your fingers in his hair—tugging and pulling—then, to his tongue licking a trail against the column of your throat, your breath hot on his cheek, your nails digging in deep into his back, and the nights where love is spoken through fervent whimpers and whispers of adoration.
sirius knows it’ll be centuries until he becomes a man worthy of your love—but for now, he hopes you’ll let his arms protect you from harm, and his hands find solace in yours.
after all, you are the better parts of his soul.
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a/n: i’m not sure if i hit the mark on touch-starved as a language BUT WE MOVE. remus next!
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star-sim · 8 months
Text
"cheater!" ☆ enha hyungs
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☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x fem! reader ☆ summary: that one time you mentioned another guy's name, and he gets jealous (and he's dumb). ☆ genre: fluff, humor, dumb dumb boys, very minor angst/hurt/comfort in jay's part, cross between short scenarios and bullet points ☆ warning(s)? mentions of cheating obv, misunderstandings, ☆ not edited lolz also if ur @/archlstarvlle get off my dick again and stop plagiarizing me (and other authors bruh)
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heeseung ☆
poor guy
you and him were going to a party later
and you were planning on putting ribbons in your hair
except you didn't have ribbons!
time to go to your nearest craft store: michael's.
"Baaaabe," you whined, prying Heeseung's grabby hands away from you. "I need to go."
Heeseung kept his arms wrapped around you, pressing his cheeks into your back. He threw his leg around yours, pulling you ever closer to him.
"Nooooo," he drawled, and you could feel his lips forming a little pout. You were just so warm and soft and comfortable. "Stay."
You chuckled at his childishness. You needed to go buy ribbons for later, since you ran out of them.
"Baby," you pecked his forehead, trying to shake yourself free of your clingy boyfriend. "I need to go to Michael's."
You felt Heeseung's body go frigid for a moment, before his arms loosened altogether around you, allowing you to escape his grip.
When you pulled away, while you continued to happily chirp about whatever was on your mind to your boyfriend, your words fell upon deaf ears.
Heeseung pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it pensively.
heeseung was actually going insane
WHO IS MICHAEL??? AND WHY ARE YOU GOING TO HIM??
heeseung swears he's never heard you talk of someone named michael, let alone a friend named michael
how could you drop the name of some OTHER MAN so casually???
and the nail in the coffin was what you said next
"Michael's has some pretty cool things," you chatted, your back turned to your boyfriend as you fixed your lip gloss. "So, let me know if you need anything from there.
michael... cool... things....
if heeseung wasn't already fighting for his life, he was now fighting a million wars at once.
you told heeseung that he was cool and handsome and cute and all the words in the dictionary all the time.... and you made sure to let him know that your words were exclusive to him
so for you to say that SOME RANDOM DUDE NAMED MICHAEL WAS COOL?????
"I don't think you've ever been to Michael's, so I think—"
Heeseung abruptly stood up from the bed that he was lying in, in such a sudden and dramatic way that you snapped your head over to him, as he was quite loud with it.
There your tall boyfriend stood, completely still, with a deep frown on his face.
"Babe, are you okay—"
"I'm going with you," Heeseung announced, his voice filled with such a passion and vigor that it nearly shook. He looked so indignant and solemn, you almost felt worried. With finger air-quotes, he said with a subtle eye-roll, "I will go with you to this 'Michaels.' "
You blinked at him obliviously, before a smile grew on your face. You didn't know that Heeseung was so curious about the local craft store called Michael's, but you were not going to question it.
"Okay!"
heeseung was just WAITING
he let you take the wheel and while he sat in your passenger's seat he was rubbing his knuckles, WAITING TO THROW A FIST AT THIS MICHAEL GUY
would a black eye suffice? or maybe a broken nose....
he glanced over at you
you were just humming to yourself to the music (you let heeseung take the aux)
sure you looked so cute and innocent right now... BUT HOW??? HOW COULD YOU BE SO CASUAL ABT IT???
heeseung was expecting for you to pull up to a neighborhood, or an apartment complex, ready to feel his entire world crash down before his feet as some guy named michael emerged from the doorway
his heart plummeted at the thought of this 'michael' pulling you in for a hug, with you greeting him back brightly
no!!!! he couldn't let michael win!!!
you were his!!
.
.
.
except, you simply pulled up to a parking lot
to a massive store, with white walls and a giant brown sign
reading
michael's craft store
Heeseung flopped over in relief.
"Hee...!"
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jay ☆
i think at this point in time you and jay aren't DATING dating, but definitely an exclusive pair that's BASICALLY dating
all your friends know about him and you report to them daily about him (theyre tired)
except
before you and jay became an actual pair
you used to call him a code name with your friends
the code name in question?
hamilton
named after your friend's hamilton beach flexcut cordless can opener, aka the first thing that you saw when you were coming up with a code name
Your heart was pounding in your chest.
Today, you and Jay decided to have a study session in the library. Although you knew that he'd be true to his word and would actually help you study, you hoped that the two of you could do something more.
Maybe he'd put his hand on your thigh, or maybe you'd have the opportunity to cut him off with a kiss. Just the thought made your stomach do flips.
As you waited at the library table, with your heart in your hands, your phone rang. It was your friends. Noticing the dirty looks for such an obnoxious ringtone, you stepped out the library to take the call.
meanwhile jay was pretty much shaking with each step he took to the campus library
an entire two hours with you? you, who needed his help really badly? you, who he wanted to kiss so badly? yes please!!!
boy was he excited
but as he rounded the corner to the library.............
he spotted you..... on the phone with someone.....
"Hamilton is so handsome!" he heard you squeal into your phone, and Jay's heart stopped. "I hope Hamilton comes soon, so that I can kiss him."
ham...il...ton
who is that....
jay knew that you and him weren't officially dating but he didn't expect you to do him dirty like that :(
as you continuted to giggle and coo about this hamilton guy, jay couldn't help but feel his heart ache
he really thought you were the one :(
except he was so caught up in his thoughts that jay tripped over his feet, making you whip your head around to him
Your expression was horrified, which only only confirmed his worst fears. Still, you stepped toward him, your face painted with embarrassment.
"Oh, hi Jay," you said bashfully, unable to meet his gaze.
Jay, even when he was hurt, didn't have it in him to be rude to you. He wanted to run away (and cry), but the way you gave him a small, sheepish grin made his heart flutter.
He planned to sit through this session, and excuse himself after 30 minutes. Keep the relationship civil, he thought.
on your end
you were mortified!!!
did jay just hear you talk about him to your friends?
although you had a code name for him, it wasn't like what you said was completely discreet
you dropped pretty obvious context clues that pointed to who hamilton was
things like "i love hamilton's heart-shaped birthmark on his neck, do you think he'll let me touch it?" and "i hope hamilton takes me out on a date after today's study session"
you were embarrassed
and it didn't help that jay was being quieter than usual... did he think you were weird?
but to jay, that embarrassment translated as the shame of being caught
the entire study session thus far, you didn't even meet his gaze, always looking away
Jay was hurt. Really hurt.
By the way you were acting, he was hoping for an apology, or some quick explanation, even if it was short and half-assed. At least you could've tried. But you said nothing.
Jay himself had questions that he wanted to be answered: how long has this been going on, if you were lying when you told him that you loved him, etc.
His lips moved faster than his mind could catch.
"So, who's Hamilton?" he blurted.
shit shit shit
he KNOWS RIGHT?
HE KNOWS THAT HE'S HAMILTON
RIGHT???????
you felt your neck and cheeks heating up
and by the way he looked solemn, you were sure he was mad at you
You froze, before all of your words spilled out of your mouth.
"Oh my god, Jay, I'm so sorry. You must be feeling so creeped out and disgusted with me and—"
from your body language to the panic in your expression
jay thought that his suspicions were confirmed
the moment that you began speaking he was ready to break down sobbing
but your next words made him stop
"— And I know that you think I'm weird for using a code name as stupid as 'Hamilton' for you, and I'm so sorry for that, but—"
wait a minute............
code name
hamilton
for him
.
.
.
"Wait, I'm Hamilton?!" Jay cut you off, his face pinching.
You let out a weird sound, an awkward expression spreading across your features.
"I-I mean, yeah..." you hid your face in your hands, "Ughhhh, I'm so sorry, that's so weir— Jay?!"
Jay was slumped over the table in relief, his face buried in his arms. He let out a loud groan, before lifting his head to look up at you. You couldn't help but notice the little glassy sheen in his eyes, almost like he was going to cry.
"Jay..."
He quickly wiped the little tears forming in his eyes away, sniffling before sitting up completely, averting his gaze from you.
"It's nothing," he murmured.
He was relieved. No, beyond relieved. He was ecstatic that this entire time you were talking about him. He couldn't believe that he would think of you in such a poor light.
He kept his eyes away from you, too shy and embarrassed to look you in the eye.
You poked him, and he didn't respond, so you poked him again.
"Jay."
"Hm?"
"Do you think I'm weird?"
He snapped his head over to you.
"What? No, of course not!"
You frowned. "Then why aren't you talking to me?"
Jay sucked in a sharp breath. "It's nothing."
He finally met your gaze, his lips helplessly cracking into a grin just as the sight of you perplexed expression.
He clutched your chin, tilting it so that you would look at him. He leaned in to give your lips a peck.
"I promise, it's nothing, Baby."
You leaned into him, giving him a peck, too.
"Okay," you nodded, biting back the giddy, lovesick grin that fought its way onto your face.
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jake ☆
one day youre hanging out w your friends
and ygs go to a dog cafe
so cute!!
and theres this one dog that's just practically CALLING FOR YOU
he's just this little maltese named enzo and he's so cute
the two of you cuddling on the floor, giving him good head rubs and laughing as he licks you
you love enzo the maltese!
anyways so you take pictures ofc and post it to your private instagram
Jake narrowed his eyes at his phone.
He was deep.
Deep in the goddamn trenches.
He was excited to see the cute pictures you took of your day out with your friends. When you said that you were going to a dog cafe, Jake was so ready to use a picture of you and a pup (two of his favorite things) as his new phone wallpaper.
But that wasn't going to happen.
Because all of a sudden, his Wi-Fi decided to be poor all of a sudden.
Although he got the notification that you posted something new on Instagram, when he checked your account, none of you pictures loaded. All he could see was a black loading square, and the caption to the post.
at first jake was like
"its ok i can wait" even though he REALLLLYYY wanted to see your pictures
he couldn't see any of the pictures you posted, but he could still see the caption
and that's what caught his eye
you liked to have an individual explanation for each picture in the post, so your caption read as follows:
pic 1: me and enzo
pic 2: enzo kissing me
pic 3: holding enzo's hand
pic 4: enzo and me cuddling
and that's when jake stopped reading
Jake was going to start losing hair, because who was Enzo? And why was he kissing you? And cuddling with you?
He'd never heard of an Enzo. Poor guy, Jake kept refreshing your account in the hopes that your pictures would load, so that he could see this Enzo guy face-to-face. But that didn't happen.
It didn't help that your Instagram notes read, "enzo &lt;3."
seriously
WHO IS ENZO
jake paced back and forth around his apartment, trying to scroll back in his memory for anyone named enzo
but alas
no one
all he knew was that whoever enzo was, he was about to get a broken jaw
a little frown formed on his face, as he rubbed his knuckles
were you going to leave him from this enzo person?
was enzo better than him?
how come jake never heard of an enzo before?
Jake's head perked up the moment his apartment door cracked open, revealing you. He rushed straight to you, expecting to hear you say, "I'm breaking up with you for another man named Enzo," completely taken aback when you simply threw your arms around him.
"Hi, Jakey!" you simply exclaimed, holding him tight.
Jake stood still, eyeing you for a moment.
Were you not going to break up with him on the spot?
The next thing he knew, Jake was pulled into his room, thrown on his bed, and cuddled up against you.
"I'm so tired," you breathe, snuggling your face against his chest. "I couldn't wait to get home to you."
Jake blinked.
"T-Tell me about your day," he gulped.
and you happily did so
animately, you told all about your day
what foods you tried, what you and your friends did, how much fun you had
you even told him about a cute little maltese that you couldn't remember the name of at the dog cafe...
and at last
no mention of enzo
"How's Enzo?"
Jake didn't know why he asked that, but when he did, you perked up.
"Oh!" you clapped your hands. "That's his name!"
"Wh-Who's name?"
You laughed. "The maltese at the dog cafe! His name was Enzo— He was just the cutest little thing!"
Enzo is a... dog?
Jake suddenly hoisted the two of you up, so that you were laying flat on your back. He plopped his face onto your chest, putting your hand in his hair.
"I don't like Enzo," Jake murmured against your chest. You chuckled, playing with his hair slowly.
"You didn't like the pictures of me and Enzo?"
"No," Jake shook his head, his hair cutely bouncing with each movement. "I don't like a dog trying to take my girl."
You laughed, calling your boyfriend silly, but completely oblivious to the fact that Jake was now making plans to go to that dog cafe to have a man-to-man talk with a dog.
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sunghoon ☆
a man of a few words, gotta love it
this is very niche but you have a habit of making very obscure and dumb and completely nonsensical nicknames for people
like jake becomes jacobsongerald and jay becomes jameslynner the third
one day you and sunghoon are just having a lazy day
It's a quiet morning. Slivers of sunlight are peeking from the kitchen blinds, while birds chirp their hearts out outside.
While you look through the fridge, Sunghoon sits at the kitchen table, notepad and pen in hand.
"Do we need eggs?" he asked.
You glanced down at the egg compartment. "No, but I think we're running out of butter soon."
Sunghoon nodded, jotting down 'butter' on the notepad.
Every week or so, you and Sunghoon liked to have a morning like this, where you went over your grocery list.
sunghoon loved mornings like this
seeing you in your cute pajamas, your raspy morning voice bouncing off the walls as you listed to him what the two of you needed to buy for the week
the way the sunlight bounced off of you just made you look so ethereal, in your early morning glory
"Sungerson, can you write down milk?"
Sunghoon's face contorted immediately.
pardon....
WHO???
sunghoon couldn't tell if he was appalled because you just called him the WRONG NAME or because 'sungerson' is actually such a ridiculous name
WHO IS SUNGERSON THAT'S SO STUPID OMG
wait a minute....
sunghoon's heard horror stories like this before
where if your significant other accidentally calls you by another name, it's a sign that they're seeing someone else
"Oh, and can you add canola oil to the list?" you asked, not really checking to see if he was writing it down due to your trust in him. But when you didn't hear any pen scribbles, you turned over your shoulder. "Sunghoon?"
see?
you called him sunghoon just then
and this entire morning you'd called him sunghoon
but then you call him a different name out of no where and act like nothing happened
you weren't seeing someone else... right?
like...... you wouldn't do that to him
the way you acted like nothing happened made sunghoon think that you probably didn't notice your slip-up
"Sungerson?"
You looked confused, your brows furrowing. "What?"
Sunghoon looked up to meet your gaze. "You called me Sungerson. Who is that?"
"Oh." You shrugged. "It's just one of those dumb nicknames that I make up for people."
"Okay."
that made sense
completely
he shouldn't have doubted you
"Sunghoon, what are you pouting about?"
okay, so maybe the thought of you with someone else made him upset
even if you weren't
and reassured him that you weren't
You huffed, shutting the fridge door before coming over to wear Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. You grabbed his head, leaning down to give his forehead a kiss.
Sunghoon whined, taking your arm as you pulled away from him. He leaned back in his seat, patting his lap for you to sit. When you did, Sunghoon immediately pushed his face into the crook of your neck, whining again.
"What is it, you big baby?"
"You're mine, right?"
You blinked. It wasn't every day that Sunghoon was clingy like this.
You chuckled, flicking his forehead.
"Of course," you said.
"Okay," Sunghoon let his eyelids fall shut, taking a deep breath before sinking into your warmth. "That's good."
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1K notes · View notes
bunnys-kisses · 8 days
Note
Hi bunny I was wondering if I could get a Boston cream pie with coffee and mocha coffee with dark!lando maybe? Thank youuu
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love receiving all kinds of requests! thank you to everyone who had sent something! i hope you enjoy this, especially the one who submitted it! thank you all and enjoy! <3
boston cream pie ("yeah, i'll use protection.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, dark-ish fic, dark!lando, breeding kink, rivals au, mercedes driver!reader, lying, no protection, mentions of pregnancy
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you were a level headed driver, you came down that track like lightning and even when things went south, you kept your cool. you never got snippy on the radio and even when you loss the race, you dealt with it with total grace.
you were a good sport, congratulatory towards whoever was on the podium. as a result you were a darling on the track, especially to the media. the first woman in decades to race with the big leagues. you were sweet as honey to everyone, or so it seemed.
everyone except when you went toe-to-toe with lando off the track. your hands dug into the front of his t-shirt as you said to him, "how dare you, norris."
"aw, what's wrong, princess? did you break a nail?" lando didn't make it any better, leering at you as you held onto him.
this was a common back and forth. the snapping of jaws between you two. lando looked at you with a healthy smirk while you got right into his face. oscar piastri once described it as watching you two fuck without the 'fun' part. he also suggested that you two found other ways to take all the stress out.
"no. you played dirty today, norris. you know, mclaren's strategy isn't playing mad max fury road all over the track!" your hands held deeper into the shirt. you swore you could feel his quickening heartbeat.
lando made a face at you and said, "then if you can't handle the heat... get off the track... i bet you'd do lovely in craft services... or maybe you could be my assistant." he licked his top lip, "my logo all over your pretty tits, but you know i like my cum on them better."
your cheeks went hot as you pulled him closer to you, your foreheads almost touching as you glared at him. "you are a sick fuck, lando."
lando got his arms around you behind and gave your ass cheek a squeeze, "and yet... you can't get enough of me."
you both heard a loud groan from behind you, you both looked over and saw oscar standing there with his hands in his pockets. he took a hand out and scratched the back of his head. this wasn't the first he had caught you, he was used to it at this point.
"uh.. hey. the press are going to be in here soon. so unless you want to make national news. i suggest you." he pointed to you, "get back to your team and we." he pointed to lando, "have to do an interview."
you pulled away and said to oscar, "thank you, mate." before you 'accidentally' stepped on lando's foot as you headed out of the room. that night you'd get a text message with a location and time. and the message 'wear something orange', which you never complied with. orange made you feel less like a sex symbol and more like the fruit.
but a short black dress would work just fine for the evening.
you were a normal sighting at the hotels that mclaren were staying at. while you tried to cover up that it was all purely platonic, they knew. your team knew, lando's team knew. teams that weren't involved knew. you were certain even teams not in formula one knew. but, yet you went to the hotel room and knocked three times in quick succession.
lando opened the door and got a good look at you. he said, "i asked for orange."
you got past him, "i prefer mercedes black. feel like it highlights me better." you said as you got inside the hotel room, "bed? couch? don't tell me you want to do it on the floor."
he chuckled and closed the door before he came to you. he was dressed casually. sweatpants and a black t-shirt that highlighted his toned frame. he followed you as you sat on the edge of the bed to get your heels off.
he sat beside you, up against you with his large hand on your soft thigh. he kissed at your neck before you even had the chance to get undressed. he sighed against your scent.
"beautiful as always."
you took him by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. it was a dangerous glance. even without the make-up wore off the track, you looked beyond beautiful. lando once said that they should make you the trophy, come out in something skimpy. that earned a death glare from you before lando made it up to you with kisses along your thighs.
"is it a crime now to state the obvious? i thought you were all about telling the truth." he said as you held him. his words were silenced when you pulled him in for a tender kiss. he made a soft noise against your lips as you invaded his space. it felt good, it felt right.
like two magnets come together. opposites that pulled together. his hands were soon on your shoulders before you pushed him back into the bed. when he pulled away, he said, "let me on top. i want to see that face." then started to undress himself with you beside him on the bed.
"yeah, no. you're just going to make fun of me. remember you said once when i orgasm i look like i ate a lemon. it's doggy for me tonight."
he chuckled, "whatever the princess wants." he beamed at you.
you looked at him. a knowing look you've given a million times. with you soon naked, your breasts capturing his attention fully that he barely noticed the expression on your face. you coughed into your fist and looked at him.
he looked back at you before he said "yeah, i'll use protection." you two may had been playing a risky game over the last few weeks. using the pull-out method was dumb, but it wasn't like you two carried condoms around.
in all fairness lando could've been a gentleman and bought some. but, he lied to you about having them. his mind was somewhere else. lando norris wanted you pregnant. keep you off the track, but still in his life. be easier to get a hold on you when your hips got a little softer and soon you were taking care of a norris baby.
he was lucky that tonight you wanted doggy style as you wiggled your ass to him enticingly which made his heart rate skip. you were a real siren's call, he could imagine you on the rocky shores of england singing your siren's song. but usually in those tales, the siren doesn't get pregnant so... maybe it was a little different.
"got the condom, norris?" you asked as you pressed your chest against the soft bed. you held over the pillow under your head and pressed your cheek against it.
"yes." he said, "i got it." his cock was bare and the tip was leaking. he stroked it a few times and admired your naked body in front of him. he shifted a little bit on the bed before he nudged his cock up against your slick entrance. it was a familiar feeling, he had become hooked on you like an itch he couldn't scratch unless he was balls deep inside of you. and he thankfully was able to scratch that itch as he sank into you.
your back arched and your short nails dug into the pillow under your head as your back was curved more as he invaded your space further. you didn't even notice that he wasn't wearing a condom. you moaned as he started to thrust up against you. it felt really good, you hated to admit it. but sex with lando was always good and it made your brain sometimes go blank in the rush of pleasure as he moved against you.
he was good in the bedroom, if only he was as good on the track. then maybe mclaren would have their winner. but that snarky comment died on your tongue as you felt his cock prod some of your softest areas.
lando was on cloud nine, he always was when he got to fuck you. it was like a jolt to the system that made his nerves feel alive. but not in the way that anxiety did. he wanted to jump your bones and keep his thick cock inside of your sweet pussy. he wanted to cream in it so badly, he wanted to make a big mess of it.
make sure that no other man could have you.
maybe his breeding kink was running strong after today's race. he could feel it all the way in his balls as he rutted against you. you felt like a dream as he moved. he wanted you pregnant, you'd make the most perfect mother to his children. he came from a big family so he was hoping for at least four kids with you. he'd make sure that he'd get a nice place for all of you to live in. you'd be a nice little family.
his little rival becoming his wife. the thought excited him as he rutted against you. his heart beated wildly in his chest, his lips found the back of your neck, which caused your to moan and tense up around him. that felt good, it only encouraged him to keep doing it. feeling your slick hole clench around him.
"you feel amazing. so good around me." he pushed into your harder, "fuckin' hell. he swallowed, he felt himself starting to lose a bit of control as he really worked your body. it felt so good, especially without a condom. the rubber stopped him from feeling all of his future wife. that was your new name while he was in a state of heighten euphoria.
you came quickly with your back arched. your groaned into the covers and clawed down the soft comforter. you felt everything kind of go blank for a moment. the only thing that left your mouth was his name. first name and last name. and how you said it made him move even further. and when pleasure struck him, he finished inside the back of your soaked cunt.
he then trailed his blunt nails down your back, hoping to leave deep red lines come morning. a little reminder of him as if his cum stuck to your cunt wasn't enough. but your over stimulated body made you jerk a little bit and moan a little louder into the bed. you looked good face down ass up.
lando slapped your ass before he pulled out and watched your hips drop to the bed. you were out for now, but lando was certain that with a few strokes of his fingers and his mouth on your breasts, he could at least get another round out of you. even as you laid panting on the bed.
after all, he had a baby to make with his little rival.
-
you held that trophy over your head. you could've yelled in excitement. but instead you grinned. you were almost moved to tears, but you held them back. even in the face of victory, you had to show strength. a history maker as the cameras flashed.
you were beyond lucky. the blood tests from the recent evaluation hadn't come back yet before the last race of the season. you knew what formula one didn't know. you were pregnant.
nothing noticeable yet. everything ailment was pinned of the anxiety of performing well for the final race of the season. you held the world champion high over your head. in the coming weeks the media storm around your pregnancy will come to light.
you felt on top of the world as your national anthem played, hand over your heart as you felt the soar in your pulse. the almost imaginary weight in your middle was replaced with the heft of the world champion title over your head as you held the trophy once more for photos. you knew that your career would be halted if not ended in the next few days.
you knew lando was watching, not because he had to. but, because he wanted to. your little rivalry had halted when you disclosed to him in quiet whispers that you were pregnant. and lando whispered promises of a wedding during the off season. something quiet, with family.
for now on the shiny stage, you were a champion. in a way you won the battle. but with the norris baby in your womb, lando won the war. <3
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odoraful · 3 months
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𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐘𝐄
it was one of the few days zayne had returned home earlier than sunset. he opened the door to the apartment to find you painting your nails. after a shower and some short pleading on your part, he was seated in front of you, hands laid out on the table for you to do his nails.
content: zayne x fem!reader; established relationship; small banter! ; greyson apperance; ~1k words a/n: i've been dipping in and out of writing, so i thought i'd make something short to get me back into practice :)
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“Hand tremors aren’t good for dexterity, you know,” Zayne quipped, gazing at your expression as you applied the polish.
You looked up at him through your lashes and he smirked at the flat stare you gave him. With a slight tilt of his head, he enjoyed how animated your reactions were to his remarks. Towel-dried hair brushed past his brows, framing his discerning hazel eyes. Did he always need to be this handsome while poking fun at you? Your hands weren’t shaky before, but they certainly felt so now.
“Oh hush.”
Putting the brush back in the bottle to collect more polish, you reset your focus.
“Just ‘cause you’re a surgeon, doesn’t mean you’d make a good nail artist,” you retorted, bringing your eyes back to your work.
You were currently on the last nail, painting it a navy blue to match the others you already finished. Zayne’s nails were well kept and trimmed short, making for a perfect canvas for you. Whilst it was rare for surgeons to wear polish, he assured that it wouldn’t be an issue so long as it did not chip. He wanted you to do it for him, anyway. Having your undivided attention on him was a perfect way to unwind after a long day at the hospital.
“And what other qualifiers need to be met besides a still hand?” he asked, teasing giving way to curiousity.
You finished up the last nail with a few glides of the brush. “An eye for aesthetics,” you declared, moving the blue nail polish aside and selecting two more colours among your collection.
“Now, pick the colour for the design.”
You presented two colours to him. A cool silver embedded with fine glitter, and a rustic gold. His eyes flicked between the two. Mind having been made up almost the second you asked.
“Silver.”
You hummed. “An excellent choice.” Shaking the polish, the glitter dispersed throughout. “Perhaps you might consider nail tech as a side job, Dr Zayne.”
Waiting for his nails to dry before you could begin the next layer, you lightly fanned them with both your hands. He chuckled—both at your comment and your cute attempt to try and speed the drying process.
“My primary job keeps me busy enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much of an eye for aesthetics.”
You were reminded of the palette of his closet. Blacks, greys, browns, and the only splash of colour being a deep green shirt. Though somewhat monotone, it did suit him well.
He continued, “I think I’ll leave that expertise up to my girlfriend.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Mouth opened ever so slightly, not wanting to reveal the way every use of that nickname slipped under your skin and made your heart skip.
You began to draw tiny snowflakes on each of them with the silver polish. Zayne admired the furrowed concentration on your face as you were locked into this task. When the design had dried, you finished by squeezing some cream onto his hands. He let out a soft sigh as you massaged it in, feeling the tension of the day release under your gentle touch.
Once you were done, you stretched your arms out and twisting around to crack your back. You held his fingers in your hands, inspecting them.
“Look how pretty they are!” You bubbled.
Zayne was honestly floored. The level of coordination it took to paint something so small was incredible.
“They’re very pretty indeed.”
You were too enthralled by your own work to see the warm smile on his face at how satisfied you were.
“Now, that’ll be sixty dollars,” you said, looking up at him smugly, placing your hands on your hips in waiting.
Zayne lifted a brow. “Do you accept payment in desserts?”
“Hm… an interesting offer,” you placed a hand on your chin in mock thought. “What kind?”
“Will each flavour of macaron at the shop that just opened suffice?” he replied. The sparkle in your eyes signalled that it was more than enough to cover the cost of your service. Promptly, the two of you went outside to resolve his payment. You walked hand in hand, matching one another with freshly painted nails.
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EPILOGUE
At Akso Hospital the next day, peoples’ gazes lingered a little too long at Zayne. As he handed out folders to nurses and gestured to screens when presenting, eyes trailed on his hands. Now, it wasn’t unusual for doctors to wear polish, but it was unusual for Zayne to have it. Another layer of mystery to unravel about the cardiac surgeon.
Greyson entered Zayne’s office to drop off some documents, sliding them towards him on his desk. “Going to some fancy event later?”
Zayne adjusted his glasses, not looking away from his computer screen. “Unless you consider a seminar at the university as fancy, I’m not sure what you’re implying.”
He gestured towards the keyboard Zayne was typing on. “I’m talking about your nails! Don’t tell me you really just got them done for fun?” Greyson asked, incredulous.
“I did.” Zayne splayed his hand out. “Is that so strange?”
“No! Not at all!” Greyon reassured, shaking his head fervently. “They do look nice though,” he admitted. “Maybe I should get their number so I can get mine done too.”
“She doesn’t take up new clientele, unfortunately,” Zayne said, resuming his typing.
At such a quick defence, Greyson immediately clocked who this person was. He was one of the few that were privy to the relationship between you and Zayne, and he knew only you could make Dr Zayne change up his style.
Exaggerating a sigh, he turned to leave. “A true shame! She sure seems talented.”
“I’ll make sure to pass that on to her,” he heard Zayne reply. Though his back was to Zayne, the smile in his voice as he answered was undeniable.
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prettygiri222 · 5 months
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Summary: Onyankopon’s tired of hearing you complain
Onyankopon x Black Fem Reader SMUT
just a little smth so yall know i’m alive
“O-onya,” you cried out. he had you perched on the bathroom sink with nothing to hold on to but his arms. your quivering legs struggled to wrap around his waist as he kept you stable with a strong grip on your ass. you were completely at his mercy, “too much!”
Onyankopon frowned looking down as you furrowed your eyebrows. he had just started and you were already a beautiful mess. it took him only a few neck kisses while you were brushing your teeth before your thong became a soaking wet mess he was more than happy to help you with. he had you stripped bare in seconds, just barely lifting his wife beater and shorts when he sunk into your needy pussy. 
“is that better?” he asked. Onya hated seeing you in pain so he slowed his pace. but he couldn’t lie, something about seeing the way you cling to him like a lifeline when he went just a little too deep or too fast made his dick jump.
“yea, sogood sogood” you babbled out.
the bathroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the squelching sounds of his dick going in and out of you alongside your high-pitched moans and Onya’s deep groans. he had found a pace that both of you enjoyed. you held your head up to keep eye contact with your boyfriend but sometimes your gaze drifted to where you two were connected. you loved seeing how your tiny hole accommodated Onya’s massive length and girth. 
only the upper half of his dick coated by your wetness. the lower part of his shaft was neglected due to your complaints about his size. luckily, Onya’s tip was the most sensitive part of his dick. he loved feeling your tight walls squeeze around it, “shit.”
“oh my gosh,” you moaned. you knew you were close to your orgasm when everything suddenly felt like it was too much. you tried to keep it together you didn’t want to ruin the impending feeling but it was driving you crazy. you could feel the way Onya’s mushroom tip scraped against your walls paving way for his even thicker shaft. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.
you bit your bottom lip to try and distract yourself but all it did was muffle your moans as they turned into cries. your toes clenched around his back and your nails were starting to dig into his arm. all it took was one look for Onya to know that you were close. he kept the same pace knowing you were close and he wouldn’t be too long after. the feeling of your gummy walls practically suffocating his dick was enough for him to ignore the pain of you digging into his skin.
that was until you started trying to squirm away. wriggling your hips to avoid his strokes hitting your soft spot.
“where do you think you're going?” Onya watched as you furrowed your eyebrows and avoided his eyes. ‘not this again’ he thought to himself. he barely had his dick inside you at this point, there was no way that you were so sensitive.
but you were. “‘s to much Onya!” you cried. you finally looked up at him again, a fresh set of tears visible on your waterline. there was nowhere for you to run, you were stuck between a hard place and a set of rock-hard abs that was pretty much the only thing keeping you up. you could only plead for mercy.
“hm? it’s too much?” Onya mimicked. seeing you so vulnerable made both his heartbreak and turned him on. he would’ve listened to your pleas had you not forcefully tried to stop him, placing a hand on his exposed midriff hoping to slow his harsh pace.
“uh huh”
“yea? well now I’m gonna make it hurt.”
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mauvecherie-writes · 8 months
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the morning after: l.hamilton
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pairing: lewis hamilton x black!f!reader.
summary: scenes after a wild night.
warning: 18+ mdni, nsfw, no structural plot, sexual scenes, dirty talk.
note: i started this on his birthday, finished this yesterday lol so this is set around his birthday. flashbacks in italics.
w.c: 1.19k
tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @hersinsarescarlet @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodicheauxxlovesfood @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly
You were sore.
You were so, so sore.
A groan left you as you tried to stretch your limbs. The little light coming into the room caused your eyes to squint as you took in the surroundings.
This wasn’t your hotel room.
The first flash of last night was projected within your mind.
Fuck. Fuuuucccckkkk.
The smell of his cologne wrapped around you - reminding you of whose room you were currently in and who it was you spent the night with. You sat up straight and clasped the sheet close to your naked chest. You were finally able to get a hold of your bearings.
Clothes.
Shoes.
Bottles and glasses.
Furniture.
All disheveled from your feverish tryst.
-
You drunkenly giggled against his lips as you stumbled further into the room. The sounds of the empty champagne bottle rolling on the floor from being kicked by your shuffling feet.
“Sshh.” You placed your finger against his lips as his hands explored the length of your back. “You gotta be quiet.”
“No one is gonna hear you baby, you can be as loud as you want.” He mumbled as he trailed kisses down the curve of your neck as he hooked his fingers beneath the straps of your top.
-
You chewed on your bottom lip as the memories of the previous night beseech you. You could feel the phantom of Lewis’s touch on your body the more you woke up.
One thing was for certain, you needed to leave his room.
The chilly wind drifting into the room from the parted window nipped at your skin as you jumped out of the bed. As you rushed around the room to pick up your belongings, you felt the residing slickness in between your thighs.
-
He stroked your clit faster, pressing onto your bud firmer with each stroke. Your body fell into his, Lewis’s arm secured around your body, pressing your back into his chest with his hand on your chest, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. He enjoyed the way your body shook from the pleasure that he was drawing from it.
Then you tried to grab his hand to stop him. He chuckled against your ear. “Don’t try and fight it baby.” He bit on your earlobe. “Just let it happen.”
-
The first orgasm had rocked your body and he had played you so beautifully. You had tried to give back - it had been his birthday after all - but he wouldn’t allow it. You were his for the night to enjoy.
You zipped up your jeans and haphazardly threw your top back on but your zip was broken. You remember Lewis pushing your top past your hips.
Shit.
And your room was on the other side of the resort too. A good five minute walk - even less if you ran. But you couldn’t walk through the resort like this.
You grabbed his shirt from the floor and put it on and shoved your top into your bag.
The humming of the shower finally stopped.
You halted your actions as you heard Lewis’s movements within the bathroom and soon enough, the door opened. With steam emerging from behind him, he walked out.
You loved the way the towel was wrapped and sitting low on his waist. Skin glistening from the dampness - somehow making his tattoos pop out even more. The marks from your mouth and nails still wore on his skin and the sight made you lick your lips.
“Leaving so soon?” He smirked at you. You were by the door with your braids in a ponytail, bag and shoes in hand with his t-shirt from the previous night on.
“Umm.” You sounded as you tried to recollect your thoughts. “Last night, you told me that you had something planned with your boys. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
“They’re plans for me. They can wait until I’m ready.” He walked towards you and you couldn’t help but let your hands fall beside you.
“Oh.” You mumbled, your cheeks warming slightly causing him to chuckle. Lewis’s hands came to your waist and pulled you closer. His touch triggered another memory.
-
Lewis was above you with his hands on your waist as he thrusted into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched off the bed.
“Fuck you’re so deep.” You gasped as you felt every inch of his thickness slide deep inside and touch parts of yourself that you could never reach. He moved so that your leg was on his shoulder and he was hovering above you. The position shift caused you to lose your breath and immediately tremble as he touched your sweetest spot.
“There it is. That’s the spot huh?” His dark chuckle rang in your ear.
-
Lewis saying your name snapped you back to reality. The way that he was staring down at you made you slightly embarrassed about where your thoughts had been. And from the look in his eyes, it was like he knew it too.
“What are your plans later?” He asked you as his finger traced your jawline. You licked your lips, taking a deep breath as if bracing yourself to gaze into his deep brown eyes.
“Nothing. Me and the girls were just going to chill in the lounge bar by the pool.” You whispered softly as he continued to caress you.
“Good. I’ll meet up with you there then go for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah.” His lip curled to the side. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?”
“The kind of man who fucks me on every surface of his hotel room until his cum is dripping down my thighs.” The vulgarity of your words caused his breath to hitch in his throat. Lewis briefly closed his eyes as if he was remembering the way that he had bent you over the couch in the living room area.
Because you remembered that.
“Let me be a good man to you and take you to dinner.”
“Fine.” You giggled at the strangled tone in his voice. You reached forward to place a kiss on his cheek but Lewis turned his head so his lips brushed over yours. He brushed his nose against yours and you took that as the go ahead. So you gently pressed your lips against his but the soft kiss turned heated.
You softly whimpered into his mouth when his one hand went to the back of your neck and pulled you closer. The sound of your moan spurred him on, leading him to press you into the door. You felt every inch of his rigged body down to his hardening dick against your abdomen.
Your moment was only interrupted by the loud ringing of an alarm. You pulled away from the kiss with a heavy pant of your chest.
“I have to go.” You whispered. “ I need a shower.”
“You could have taken one here.”
“I can’t be around you. I can’t think straight.” Lewis chuckled before he moved away from you.
“Go, I’ll see you at dinner. We’ll continue with this later.”
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gatorbites-imagines · 2 months
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Logan Howlett x Cyclops variant male reader
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Reader is a Cyclops variant, just extra spikey, because Scogan is one of my guilty pleasures. I don’t know a whole lot about the X-men, so this I try to keep it vague.
I’m also very sick, so if this sucks, that’s why. I didn’t get a request for this, but I just needed it out my system.
Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers ahead!!
The void was a strange place, it didn’t take Logan long to learn that. Being stuck with Deadpool meant he had come to expect seeing weird shit, but a very angry, very bloody, almost half feral Cyclops was not one of them. You were simply so… angry. From what the resistance could tell them, your deep connection to the punch dimension, and whatever else had you picked up by the TVA and dumped into the Void, kept you safely out of Novas grasp, even if she very openly wanted you by her side.
Seeing the familiar visor made Logans heart ache so deeply, but that snarl on your lips reminded him too much of himself. Deadpool being himself immediately started cracking jokes, only for you to blast him with your eyes. And instead of just throwing Deadpool back, it seemed to completely disintegrate arm right off his body. Logan later learned that was one of the reasons the TVA picked you up. Apparently, your mutation was… wrong. Cyclops wasn’t meant to slice people in half with his eyes, just throw or punch them back. But whatever life you had lived, had shaped you differently.
Working side by side with a Cyclops again took some getting used too, and for you it was difficult too. But that rivalry but underlying respect was still there. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to hit him or kiss him when Logan absentmindedly called you Slim for the first time. In the end you nailed him in the knee with your one of your beams, just enough to get him to trip face first into the ground. That had caused Logan to snap out at you with his claws, but there had been no real heat behind it.
After everything, with Nova, with the TVA, and with you and Logan for some reason settling down in Deadpools dimension, things were up in the air. The X-men still existed in this world, and neither of you felt much want to join them again. Both for the fact that they clearly already had a much more stable Cyclops, and their Wolverine had been dead for years at this point. So, in the end you two just stuck together, tracking down different mutant traffickers and other bad guys, and dealing with them in your own violent manner. Your beams and other abilities, and Logan technically being dead in this world kept you both an unknown card in this world, to everyone but Deadpool at least.
Sure, at some point your actions would catch the attention of the X-men, but it would take them a while, and during that time the relationship between you two brewed into something new and different, but still good. At least, you thought it was good, and if Logans shoulders growing less tense and his eyes less haunted meant anything, then you could only assume the same from him.
Seeing Jean, Remy and Anna Marie on a hit wasn’t something you expected though. Logan had never truly dealt with his grief of losing them, and you had over dealt with it, to the point where you felt nothing but an empty black hole, which fueled the more deadly part of your powers. In the end, you sent Logan away, as you distracted the present X-men, with the fancy black beams you had mastered, keeping their appearance different enough that they wouldn’t be able to tie it back to their Cyclops.
Maybe the reunion with past familiar faces was what broke the camels back with Logan, as the moment you guys got back to your motel room, you found yourself flung onto the bed, Logan easily ripping your baggy clothes off your body. “Logan- hold up” you grunted out, as he descended upon you like an animal, sinking his teeth into your neck, your shoulders, your chest, as his hands grabbed and kneaded at you. Unlike most cyclops, you had a healing factor, so it was fine, but still, seeing him so fervent had you worried.
Logan had never been one for talking about feelings, but he also wasn’t gonna force you to do something when you clearly wanted to talk about it first. In the end, you two wound up laying side by side, Logans ear resting against your chest to hear your heartbeat even if his heightened senses easily could have heard it anywhere else. It was clearly painful for him to talk about it, how he felt, what he wanted to do about it but couldn’t, what he thought of himself, so on and so forth. And through it all, you just found yourself rubbing his back and caressing his hair, giving him replies when he needed it.
Getting all the nasty details off his chest seemed to be what Logan needed, as he became so much more relaxed and softer afterwards. You had never imagined you’d see the wolverine of all people being soft, but him laying on your chest and drawing small shapes on your stomach was proof it was real. Hearing it all from Logan brought of some of your own suppressed memories, stuff you wanted to forget or stuff you had overanalyzed till it lost all meaning, but still, you found yourself spilling it all to him. What happened to you, your own x-men, your powers, how you ended up in the void.
It left you both feeling vulnerable, like an exposed nerve, but also so much closer. It was at this point you two officially started your relationship, and would also be the day you celebrated anniversaries, even if Logan acted like he didn’t care.
In the end, you two hadn’t really planned too far out in the future, what you would do, where you would go, you just kinda lived at the edge of your seats and went where the wind took you. Of course, you guys joined Deadpool and his little gang of misfits every now and then, whenever you were around his territory. You shouldn’t have been surprised when the X-men finally fully tracked you down. Apparently, Colossus had been a great guy and kept you two hidden, since you in his words “needed time to heal and find yourselves”.
Them having Kurt bamf into your motel room was too much though, especially as Logan almost skewered him on his claws, only avoided by old instincts of Kurts taking him out of fire. They had all been near tears when they saw Logan, some happier or weepier than others. He fit in so great with them, and made that lonely sour feeling rear its ugly head as you sank into the background.
Logan, being ever observant, pulled you to the front, and introduced you by his nickname for you, easily stating that you were his, and that was that. Your visor had been lost a long time ago, replaced by whatever shades or goggles you two could find, but it was pretty clear who’s variant you were. It left the X-men floundering when it became obvious you two were more than just allies. Your preference for bloody violence was also pretty new, but what could they really do.
You both denied joining the X-men, blaming it on not wanting to settle down in one place. Xavier had a very knowing look on his face, so you wouldn’t be shocked if he knew exactly why neither of you felt comfortable amongst their ranks, at least for a long while. That didn’t keep different X-men from pulling up on you two any chance they got. Apparently seeing an edgier more rebel version of their leader and/or headmaster was quite a hit. They talked about you offering students beer for months, and how sour this worlds Cyclops looked about you made you cackle. So maybe it wasn’t all bad. But only the future could really tell, but with Logan, and your shared group of randos, then that future didn’t look too bleak .
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sommerbueckers · 2 months
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paige bueckers x r being drew’s babysitter!!
THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO FKN LONG CUS I WASNT SURE IF I LIKED THE WAY IT FLOWED OR NOT.
Part two here !!
I typed away on my computer as I tried to finish up the last of my homework. Drew was sprawled out beside me on the couch with his eyes glued to the tv, he had been silently watching Avengers: Endgame for the last hour and had promised to be quiet if I let him stay up an extra thirty minutes. I often had a hard time saying no to the kid, who wouldn't after seeing a smile as bright as his?
The ringing from my phone had been drowned out by the noise coming from the tv, and if it hadn't been more the constant vibrating I would've missed it. Answering the call, I told Drew I'd be back shortly before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Hello," I spoke into the phone.
"Hey peach, how's it going over there?" my mom questioned.
"It's going good, he's watching a movie right now," I said.
"How long are you going to be? Your grandmother is here and..." her voice trailed off for a moment and I could hear her shuffling around, "she's driving me crazy."
I snorted, "Maybe around an hour or so, I have to put Drew to bed and then wait for the parents to come back."
"Okay-" her voice was cut off by my grandmother's.
"Hi baby!" she exclaimed.
"Hi Nana," I smiled to myself.
"When are you coming back from that job of yours?" she asked.
"Soon."
"Well hurry, your mother is in a bad mood and it's getting me all frustrated and such," she groaned.
"Yeah, she tends to get like that, always complaining," I laughed.
I narrowed my eyes at the pair of headlights that begun to shine through the house. I poked my head out from the kitchen to see Drew looking at the window from his place on the couch. His parents weren't supposed to be back for another hour and they hadn't called to let me know about an early arrival.
I pulled my phone from my ear to check my notifications, and when I didn't find anything new, I slowly made my way toward the front windows. Exiting the back of a black SUV was Paige, Drew's older sister. She had a wide smile spread across her face as she shut the door, shaking her head. She stood there for a moment as she talked with whoever was sitting in the front seats of the car, and I felt Drew come up beside me to see out as well.
"It's Paigey!" he shouted happily, looking at me.
I nodded my head and watched him walk over to the door to unlock it. My grandma's voice on the other end of the phone pulled me back into conversation.
"You there hon?" she asked quizzically.
"Yeah, i'm here nana but I have to go," I told her.
"Aw, that's alright. I'll see you soon, right?"
"Yeah, i'll be home in a bit."
"Okay then, bye-bye," she said.
"Bye," I responded, slipping the phone into the pocket of my sweats.
Drew stood smiling with the door open as Paige made her way up the stairs and into the house. She picked him up into her arms and shut the door, locking it behind her.
"What's up dude, you miss me?" she asked.
"Yeah," he nodded honestly.
Paige laughed before setting him down, "Whatchu been doin?"
"Me and Bee made cookies and we made tiktoks, and then she let me stay up past my bedtime!" he told her, grinning from ear to ear.
"I see that," she glanced at me for a moment and a wave of nervousness washed over me.
She didn't seem upset at the fact that I had let Drew stay up, but he had a bedtime for a reason and maybe I should've just followed it. This was my third time babysitting for the family and Drew and I had gotten pretty comfortable with each other, I just wanted him to have a little fun.
By now, the credits for the movie had begun to roll and I pretended to be fascinated with all the stars that had been in it. I heard Paige tell Drew to go upstairs and get ready for bed, and when his little figure disappeared on the second floor, she proceeded into the kitchen. I bit my lip as I followed after her, nervously playing with my nails.
"He promised he'd go to bed without a fight if I let him finish the movie, I didn't see the harm in it," I admitted, leaning against the wall.
"Nah you're good, he usually only gets to stay up when he's with me so he definitely didn't mind," she laughed.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, "Good."
She pulled a pack of Oreos out of the cabinet and set them on the counter, ripping them open and eating straight from the pack. Her eyes zeroed in on my shirt and she was silent for a moment before she said, "What position?"
"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows as my mind immediately thought about sex, but that couldn't have been right.
She then smirked and gestured to my shirt, "Your shirt says Wayzata volleyball, what position do you play?"
I peered down at my shirt and mentally slapped myself for being so horny, "Oh, right, uhm i'm a setter."
"That's the one who does the thing with the hands right?" she asked, putting her hands above her head and pushing her fingertips up.
I laughed lightly, "Yeah."
She cockily brushed off her shoulder, "Yeah, I know my stuff."
"I see that."
"I think I've seen you play before, I was only there for like half of a game but it was pretty cool," Paige revealed, shoving another Oreo into her mouth.
"Hm," I hummed, "i saw you play once or twice last year."
Paige smirked and began to make her way to the other side of the counter where I was standing, "You mean the games against your school where we kicked your asses?"
"Well I wouldn't say all that, but yes."
Paige extended the Oreos out to me, "How would you put it?"
I gently took a few and thought about my answer, "You caught them on a bad day."
"Oh yeah?" Paige raised an eyebrow.
"Mhm."
"Both times?"
"Both times."
"Interesting take, I guess we'll have to see Tuesday night," she shrugged, a smirk crossing her face. "You gonna be there?"
"Probably not, I'll just ask somebody how it went," I said.
"Ah nah, you gotta be there," Paige smiled as she shook her head.
"Why?" I frowned, but couldn't stop the smile that broke through.
Paige stepped closer, "Because I wanna point at you when the game ends and we're up twenty."
"You are so cocky," I laughed.
The blonde held her hands up in defense, laughing along with me. A silence washed over us but I could still feel her eyes on me. We stared at each other for a moment, but just as she went to say something, Drew came running into the kitchen. He had changed out of his jeans and long sleeve and now wore a pair of dinosaur pajamas. He looked between the two of us as he said, "I'm ready for bed now."
"Are you sure you're ready?" Paige asked.
"Yeah," Drew responded.
"Hm, are you positive you're ready?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay, let's go," Paige said, stooping down so Drew could get on her back.
I followed the two of them upstairs and into Drew's room. Paige set him down and pulled the covers over him, "You got to stay up tonight so you better go to sleep," she gently pushed his forehead back.
He laughed lightly, "I will."
"Mhm, goodnight bro," Paige ruffled the boy's curls before she stood up and looked at me.
I smiled at her and turned to Drew, "Sleep tight dude."
I switched the lamp off and joined Paige in the hallway, softly closing Drew's bedroom door behind me. The lighting in the hallway was dim, the only sources being the lights downstairs and the one coming from Paige's room across the hall. We stood there quietly for a moment, her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed while I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets.
The longer I stared at her, the more I began to notice how attractive she was. She was tall and slender and happened to check every box when it came to my physical type in girls. Her head rested back on the wall as she watched me watch her with the cockiest expression on her face. When my eyes finally met hers, I felt embarrassed for how long I had been staring at her, but she didn't seem phased.
Did Paige like girls?
"My dad and stepmom aren't gonna be back for a minute," the blonde stated in a low voice.
I nodded, "I know."
She pushed herself off the wall and gestured to her room, "You can come in here if you want, give you a taste of what i'm bringing to the court Tuesday."
I raised my eyebrows, "Let's see then."
Paige pushed her door open wider and allowed me to step in first. It was pretty plain as far as decoration went, there were purple bedsheets and a few posters on the wall but nothing major. Her playstation sat on the dresser beside her tv and there were a few water bottles scattered around, but nonetheless it was clean.
I sat on the edge of the bed and Paige flipped the light on and grabbed the remote to the tv.
"You play 2k?" she asked.
"No, I don't really play anything other than GTA," I laughed.
"Rookie ass game," she joked, shaking her head.
She turned on the playstation and grabbed two controllers from a drawer, handing me one. "What's this for?"
"I'm in the mood to sweep, what team do you wanna play for?" she asked when the game screen popped up.
I frowned, "That's not fair, I don't even know how to play!"
"Fine," she sighed, "I'll teach you how to play...and then I'll sweep you."
"That was not fun at all," I sighed out, setting the controller down beside me.
Paige and I had been playing for thirty minutes, and out of all the games that we had started and finished, I had won none.
The blonde turned to me with a cheeky smile on her face, simply shrugging her shoulders. She laid back on the bed and put her hands over her face. As hard as I fought myself on not letting my eyes wander, self-restraint was a trait I didn't posses.
Her shirt was pulled up at the bottom, flashing a bit of her stomach. I watched her chest rise and fall under her shirt, and I wondered what color bra she was wearing. I wondered if I had the guts to be as bold as my alter ego was, would she let me find out?
I could feel my face growing hot the longer my mind ran wild, and I quickly turned my attention back to the tv.
"What do you wanna do now?" Paige asked quietly.
"I don't know..." I answered.
After shifting herself so that we were closer, thighs touching and all, Paige sat up.
"Me neither."
She said nothing as she stared at me in the darkness with the light from the recently ended 2k game illuminating our faces. It reminded me of the stare I gave girls across the net when the score was close in the second set, my eyes filled with nothing but determination. Only Paige's stare was filled with something else, something darker.
I could've been psyching myself out, you can only read so much Tumblr before it starts to affect your way of thinking, but my gut told me I wasn't. More rationally, the way her eyes were switching between my eyes and my lips told me I wasn't.
I have so much homework to finish.
Her parents would be home soon.
Drew was sleeping right across the hall.
I don't even know her.
"Do you wanna do something?" Paige asked me.
"Yeah, sure," I nodded, clearing my throat.
I waited for Paige to stand, to turn to another video game or perhaps find a movie that we could both watch. Instead, she stayed seated in her place next to me, eyes fixed on me. It was then and only then that I realized what she meant by 'something.' At least what I hoped thought she meant.
"Are we going to do something or what?" I...challenged?
Paige laughed and leaned closer, "Only if you want to."
"I'm still sitting here aren't I?"
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