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#not buy from the travelling man stand next to him
exploding-goobery · 10 months
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I got Zoe Thorogood and multiple people who work on IDW Sonic to sign my physical copy of Tails Gets Trolled the other week and I feel like that's worth celebrating.
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imaginaryf1shots · 4 months
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Clingy | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 1.3K
Lewis x wife!reader
Summery:(REQUESTED) Just lewis being affectionate and clingy to his wife.
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
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Lewis has always been the attentive type, you loved to spoil you and take care of you. He's very loving and caring, he started picking up on your little wants and needs very early in the relationship without you even having to say anything. What was weird is how much more all his love became, everything just intensified for some unknown reason, it was amplified.
Lewis never asked you to travel with him to any of his races, he always just left you to pick and choose when you wanted, he never wanted to pressure you into coming if you didn't feel up to it. But as of late it all has changed, each week he'd ask you to fly with him.
"But Lewis, I don't have any more clothes, I'll go home and next week I'll fly out with you." You'd say and he'd just laugh.
"Sweetheart, I can buy all the clothes you want." Needing anything was not an excuse to Lewis, he earned more than enough for you to dress in new clothes every day if you wanted. And you earn your own money from working in his team as well, so money was not an issue. Offering you a job on his team was also one of the ways he'd kept you close.
"Fine, I'll go with you." You say giving up and Lewis leans over to press a loving kiss to your lips. "Only because you're cute though."
"Hey, I'll take it." You both laugh enjoying the moment.
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Lewis isn't the biggest fan of PDA, sure he's kissed you when he won races before and don't get me started on the kisses you shared whenever he won world championships, the online girlies went crazy over these. Lately they have way more content to share around containing you two, or more like Lewis's hands.
He's always touching you one way or another, holding your hand, his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back to his front as you both talked to someone, arm around your waist, on your butt on your thighs, his hands were everywhere.
"My timeline is filled with you touching me." You tell Lewis while you were in the car on the way to the track, you turn the phone for him to see. His hand was on your thigh from the moment you got in the car.
"What can I say, I just have a beautiful and irresistible wife." Lewis says and you chuckle.
"Flattery does nothing, you're already married to me." You tease Lewis, he smiles at you.
"Best thing that has ever happened to me." You blush at the look he's giving you, you try to hide your face from him, it's been so many years since you started dating and he still has that effect on you. "Don't hide your face."
That makes you blush more, Lewis kisses your cheek lovingly, and you lean into him.
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The rare times you're not together, you're always texting. Check-ins are a must in your relationship. Just small texts, where are you? How was your day? Did you eat? Do you need anything? Do you want anything? And a ton of I miss you(s) and I love you(s).
During race weeks, when he was in the garage or in a meeting, he'd always pop in or look for you to spend just a few minutes together before he's whisked somewhere else.
"Lewis, you look happy today." The interviewer commented at the smiley man in front of her, his smile was contagious.
“Yeah, it’s just my wife is standing right there." Lewis said and pointed at where you were smiling and talking to one of the Mercedes staff, unaware of his eyes that went to you every once and a while. But you felt it when the camera turned to face you along with everyone else. You slowly stopped talking and looked at everyone weirded out how they all turned to you at once.
"Uh hi." You say uncertain, waving your arm slightly at them.
"Lewis was just saying you're the reason he's so happy today." The interviewer said and your eyes went to your husband who was smiley just like he was all weekend.
“He's just been giddy all weekend." You try to make the focus go elsewhere, despite being in the spotlight for years because of Lewis you still weren't 100% comfortable with the attention especially when it was mainly on you.
"I'm just happy she's here this weekend." Lewis says and you smile at him refusing to say anything, since you're there most weekends.
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There was a rare weekend when you were feeling a tad bit tired and wanted to just stay back home, feeling a bit sick and exhausted. After the race Lewis flew home straight away, the race was in Italy so the flight to Monaco was a very short one. When Lewis made it home the first thing he did was head to the living room where you sat watching your comfort show.
You heard the front door open and close, making you smile to yourself anticipating the warm greeting. And within seconds, Lewis was by your side, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle yet possessive embrace.
"Hey, love." He murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Missed you so much."
"You saw me not even four days ago." You chuckle softly pausing your show.
"It's still too long." He sighed, tightening his hold on you. You couldn't help but laugh, it was all too funny, how protective and clingy he's become in the last couple of months. It was like he sensed it all before she did, something that she was sure of just today. The incline that you had proven today and it put everything in perspective.
"Lewis." You say pushing his braids out of his face, you turn so you're facing him, his arms loosening from around you. His eyes were filled with adoration and love, they were inviting and warm. "I need to tell you something."
“What is it, love?" Lewis asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "Are you alright?" His grip on you tightened a bit. "Is everything alright? Are you sick?"
You shook your head no, your smile widening. "No, nothing like that. Actually, quite the opposite... Lewis, I'm pregnant.”
For a moment there was silence. Lewis took a few seconds to process your words, but once he processed it and it made sense in his mind, his eyes lit up with pure joy and disbelief.
"You're- you're pregnant... we're having a baby?" Lewis stammered, you nodded your eyes filling with tears.
"Yes, we're having a baby." A sound of pure joy just escaped his lips, you laugh as he pulls you up and in a fierce hug.
"Oh my god, this is amazing!" He exclaimed, twirling you around." I'm going to be a dad."
You laughed, the room is filled with the sound of pure happiness and love.
"Yes you are." You lean into him, and you verbalise your theory that you had since you found out. "That's probably why you've been so clingy and protective lately, your instincts knew before we did."
Lewis kissed you deeply, his happiness overflowing.
"I love you so much, and I love our little one already." He whispers against your lips.
"I love you too Lewis." You replied, resting your forehead against his. "I can't wait for us to be parents, and start the next chapter of our life together."
If you thought Lewis was protective and touchy before, you had it wrong. From the moment he found out about you being pregnant he doubled everything that he was before. His attentiveness took on a new meaning. Every touch, every gesture, was filled with even more love and care, now directed not just at you but at the life inside of you. You just relished in his attention and his affection, knowing that your life and your baby's life will just be filled with endless love and happiness.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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always struggling
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'struggling'
rated t | 971 words | no cw | tags: steddie, post-break up, modern era, open ending but assume they get back together, pre-famous corroded coffin
⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️
“How are we still short?” Jeff mumbled under his breath.
Eddie heard him, though, and his heart sank in his chest.
“We don’t have enough.” It wasn’t a question.
Jeff shook his head.
They both looked at Gareth and Frankie unloading the van. Usually, they all took care of their own equipment, but all of them had been too impatient to find out how much they made, so Jeff and Eddie rushed inside their house to count.
They needed $268 more to pay for their travel to the festival that could actually put them in front of the right people. That’s it. $268.
And they only made $197 from their show at the bar downtown.
“So we can’t go.”
Jeff shook his head. “Not unless you can come up with $71 by tomorrow morning.”
Eddie knows if he went to Wayne, he’d find a way. He’d break open a piggy bank or withdraw from his retirement savings. He’d ask for an advance on his paycheck. Whatever it took to help Eddie achieve his dreams.
But he’d done that enough.
Jeff’s parents already covered the cost of Jeff to go, and Frankie’s parents had refused to encourage his ‘rockstar behavior.’ Gareth’s mom didn’t have anything left over after paying for his twin sisters’ back to school supplies and clothes.
“You could call-“
“No.”
Jeff nodded solemnly. “Right.”
Eddie couldn’t call Steve. Steve had helped buy him a new guitar and fix his van before their inevitable crash and burn when Eddie decided to move to Chicago and Steve wasn’t ready. He hadn’t spoken to him in months. He couldn’t call him up and ask for money.
“Maybe I could take a shift at the diner tonight. If I take the big tables, it might be enough in tips,” Jeff offered. “We could busk?”
“You know we never make good money doing that. Nobody likes the noise.”
“Maybe we’ll just have to try again next year. We can keep playing the bars.”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
Neither of them noticed Frankie or Gareth standing behind them, listening in to the dilemma.
“We didn’t make enough?” Gareth asked somberly.
“Sorry, kid. Just a bit short,” Jeff said over his shoulder.
“This is bullshit!” He yelled.
“Gare-“ Eddie started to say, standing to try to comfort him.
“No! I’m sick of struggling so much. We’re good. We deserve to be there.” Gareth continued. “We’re going.”
“Dude, we can’t just print more money.”
Gareth turned to Eddie, fire in his eyes, hands clenched into fists.
“Suck up your damn pride and call Steve. He told you if you needed anything to call him. Call him.” He stormed to his room and slammed the door.
Eddie would do anything for his band, his friends. He knew missing this festival could be one of his biggest regrets.
“Eddie, it’s fine. Gareth-“
“Is right. I should call him.”
Eddie didn’t wait for them to try to convince him otherwise. He walked to his room and closed the door, trying to figure out how to have this conversation with a man he was definitely still in love with.
No way to prepare, really.
He pulled up Steve’s name in his contact list and pressed call before he could stop himself.
It rang three times before Steve answered.
“Eddie? Are you okay?”
God, he’d missed his voice.
“Hey Steve. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything-“
“No! It’s just family movie night, but they’re all arguing about what movie to pick anyway. How’s everything?” The sound of a door closing and silence in the background followed his question.
“Um. Well.” Just spit it out. “We have a really great opportunity at Iron and Metal Fest? It’s in Seattle, and we’ve been trying to save up to go, but we uh, we fell a little short and the deadline to let them know we can play is tomorrow morning.”
“Oh. How short?”
“$71.”
“I’ll Venmo you. Will that be okay?” Steve sounded like he’d switched the phone to speaker, probably to open the app on his phone.
Eddie didn’t deserve him, never did. A man who was willing to give up happiness so Eddie could chase his dreams, offering to help make them happen despite Eddie breaking his heart.
“Steve, I-“
“It’s okay, Eds. It’ll be worth it when you’re on a sold out tour someday, right?”
Eddie ignored the vibration of a notification as his eyes welled up with tears.
“I hope so.”
There was silence for too long.
“You still wanna be a rockstar, right?” Steve asked hesitantly.
“I do!” He really did. “I just didn’t think we’d have to struggle this much in a city made for bands like us.”
“It’ll be a great interview for Rolling Stone.”
“How do you have so much faith in us?”
“I have faith in you, Eds. Always have, always will. You’re gonna make it.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“Nah.” Someone knocked on the door and Steve whispered something to them before speaking to Eddie again. “Hey, I have to go. But I hope you wow everyone at that festival, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Stevie.”
When he checked his notifications, Steve had sent him $500.
He cried for 20 minutes before he went and told the guys.
****
The show was incredible and Eddie had never been more miserable.
The guys were on a high no drug could match, but Eddie was sinking further into a pit of despair.
“Never known you to look this sad after a show.”
Eddie’s head shot up to see Steve standing against a few extra speakers backstage.
“Steve? What’re you doing here?” Eddie walked closer, worried he was seeing things.
“Couldn’t miss your biggest show yet. Hope it’s okay.”
“Of course it is. I’m glad you came.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie smiled, feeling some of the heavy weight lift from his shoulders. “Yeah.”
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traveler-at-heart · 3 months
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How to train your spy
Request by @happychopshoppenguin
Summary: You meet a hot stranger in a bar. The next morning, there's a familiar face at your SHIELD training.
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
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Of course it was a bad idea. Irresponsible, unbecoming of an adult who had just gotten her dream job.
But your new life started tomorrow and you knew that from then on, it was all about duty and service.
In that case, who could blame you for going out to dance one last time?
“Another round of shots” you requested at the bar, looking over your shoulder.
“Can I buy you a drink?” a man said next to you and you politely declined. However, he moved closer, eyeing you up and down. “Come on, sweetheart. We can have a good time”
“Hi, baby. What’s taking so long?” a raspy voice said behind you. You were about to correct the person, who had probably mistaken you for someone else.
Green eyes met yours, and you were breathless at the beauty in front of you. The woman rested her chin on your shoulder.
“Is this man giving you trouble?” she said in a playful tone, but her glare was murderuous. It was enough to make him give up, turning around to leave.
“Thanks” you said, relaxing against the woman’s chest. She smelled incredible and you were a little drunk. It was hard to keep your distance. “Can I buy you a drink? To thank you, of course”
“One more couldn’t hurt. But seems like you have enough to drink” she commented when the bartender gave you a tray with six tequila shots.
“Oh, these are for my friends. I can’t get wasted today. I’m starting a new job tomorrow”
“Congratulations…” her words hung in the air and you picked up on the intent, jumping up to introduce yourself.
“Y/N Y/L/N. And you are…?”
“Just Nat” the woman shook your hand and you blushed at the contact.
“Well, just Nat. What brings you here on this fine Sunday night?”
“Waiting for a friend. He should be here in…45 minutes”
“Can I keep you company for those 45 minutes?” you offered, sitting next to her on a bar stool.
“Sure. Why don’t you tell me what was your plan if I hadn’t shown up to save you from that creep?”
“Oh, you saved me, huh?” you chuckled and Nat nodded, bringing the glass of scotch to her lips. You were enthranced by her beautiful, elegant jawline and neck.
“Is that what you were planning on doing? Stare at him?” she mocked and you rolled your eyes.
“I’ll have you know I am good at fighting”
“Like karate or…”
“Like many things. And I can throw a punch. A good one. I can show you”
“Maybe some other time. How about we play some darts?” she leaned forward, arching an eyebrow. All you could do was nod dumbly.
Nat took the tray of shots with her and you agreed that the loser would drink for each turn.
“Crap” you said after the third shot. “You’re really good at this”
“I should have mentioned that before we set the rules, huh?”
“Let’s just play something different” you said, sitting in a quiet corner of the bar. “Truth or dare”
“Alright. I’ll start. Dare”
“Tell me your name. Not just Nat”
The redhead grabbed a shot and downed it. You laughed.
“Now you”
“Alright… truth” but before Nat could ask anything, you took a shot, and began speaking, slightly slurring your words. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”
The woman blushed and you chuckled, realising that’s not how the game worked after it was too late.
“My turn. I dare you to…”
“I’m supposed to dare you, isn’t how this works…?” you wondered out loud, drinking yet another shot.
“I dare you to kiss me” Nat said, louder. Her gaze traveled from your mouth to your lips, and you didn’t have to be told twice.
The kiss was messy, and desperate, teeth clashing as you pulled the woman by the collar of her jacket. The force of your movements made her stand up, and pretty soon you felt the edge of a pool table against your legs.
Were you about to have sex with a total stranger in the corner of a bar?
Nat bit your lip, making you moan against her tongue.
Well, yes, apparently you were about to get fucked by a beautiful woman in a bar…
But then…
“Seriously?” a voice said behind you. It was a man, carrying a… bow and arrow?
“You told me to hang back” Nat answered. You turned to glare at the man for interrupting you, but a couple of men in black suits followed close behind. “Messy work, Barton. They followed you all the way here”
“Help me out or get a room”
The latter would work for you, except the men began to throw punches, some of then carrying knives. In spite of the alcohol, you were able to knock down one.
Apparently that wasn’t so impressive, considering Nat and Mister Bow and Arrow had taken care of the other six on their own.
“Good work” you gave a thumbs up, practically passing out on the chair. The alcohol had finally kicked in enough to make you dizzy.
“We have to go” the man pressed and Nat sighed.
“I didn’t get your phone number” you complained, less and less focused on the woman in front of you. You felt arms around you, leaving you close to the table where your friends were sitting.
“I’ll see you around” Nat promised, kissing your cheek. You smiled, but the last thing you saw was your friend’s face as you dropped to the floor.
Stupid. Stupid.
Idiotic.
After coffe, you ran 10 miles and swam for 30 minutes. How unfortunate that intense physical activity was the only way to cure your hangovers.
Luckily, SHIELD had the best facilities and you were able to shower before your introduction to the program.
After acing every test -physical, psychological, medical and polygraph- you were set to start your training to become a SHIELD agent.
You entered the first floor gym, noticing there were more men than women -which was to be expected, but made you anxious nonetheless. It was hard to stand out in a male dominated field, especially if your instructor was a man as well.
But as everyone stood around the gym and the doors opened one last time, you turned around.
Nat.
Nat was here, wearing a black jacket with the SHIELD logo and training pants.
Your eyes met for a brief second and she smiled, clearly amused.
“Welcome to SHIELD” she said in an icy tone. “Your training begins today. There are no days off and if you have a problem with that, you might as well leave now. Agents on the field don’t rest, or let their guard down because if they do, they get killed. Training starts every day at seven, do not be late. You’ll also have to study languages, technology, weapons and cryptography”
Everyone in the room stayed silent, their eyes on the redhead.
“Now, I’ll be honest, my idea of fun isn’t training new recruits. I’m not very patient and I won’t tolerate people who don’t take this seriously. Today, we will begin with combat training. Y/L/N, come over here”
Wait, what?
Well, fuck. Scratching the back of your neck, you sighed and walked to the front of the line. With her back to the group, Nat smiled, signaling for you to stand next to her in the sparring mat. You were far enough from the rest of the people to at least speak.
“You had to pick the girl with a massive hangover”
“Yours is the only name I know” she lied and you rolled your eyes.
“I was hoping we’d meet again, but not for you to kick my ass”
Assuming a fighting stance, you figured she wanted you to attack first. You were barely able to throw a punch when she had you pinned to the ground.
Every time you got up, she found a way to knock you down. And not just that, she’d place her face close to yours, or end on top of you. Not only was she impossible to beat, but also completely intoxicating. The memories from last night were foggy, except for the way her lips felt on yours.
“Why are you all staring? Find a partner and practice” the woman said to the recruits.
“Can I at least get your name now?” you asked, panting on the floor.
“Natasha” she gave you her hand to help you up. “Natasha Romanoff”
Natasha - no, Agent Romanoff-, was giving you a masterclass on psychological warfare.
She teased you endlessly, with little touches that lingered and made your skin feel hot. Or with words spoken when you were close enough to be the only one to hear them.
Like that time on the shooting room, when Natasha approached you, making you relax your shoulders by squeezing them, lowering your elbow to improve your stance.
“Good girl” she whispered against your neck, making you miss the shot completely.
To make matters worse, you had an entire class dedicated to breaking free from different restraints.
Of course, Natasha was the one that handcuffed your hands behind your back, her eyes lingering on the way your chest stuck out.
“Not a bad view” she commented. “Though I do think you’ll enjoy the ropes a bit more”
And yes, you absolutely did. Especially when she squeezed them tighter around your wrists and you groaned.
It wasn’t just physical contact. Natasha could say one small thing in that sultry tone and you’d be on your knees.
“Your foreign language skills seem fine. Russian could be better, though” the redhead commented after your latest review.
“It’s hard to find someone to practice with” you mumbled, your eyes following Natasha’s body as she stood up, walking towards you.
“It’s all in the tongue. You can do wonders when you know how to use it”
“I bet” you mumbled, feeling hot as she leaned past you, opening the door so you could leave her office.
“Be sure to work on that. Wouldn’t want that pretty mouth to disappoint me”
Thoughts of what you could do with your mouth to please her were the only thing on your mind for the rest of the day.
Between the endless teasing and the grueling preparation, the first month went by. You were better at combat, managing to go toe to toe with Natasha. In everything else, you were top of the class.
There was one girl called Lindsay who was particularly fond of you. Natasha realised you were too nice to ignore her, and too naive to notice she was flirting with you.
“I’m meeting some friends at a bar later today. Would love it if you could join us” she said, smiling as you both walked down the hallway to the gym.
“Oh, I was thinking of staying home, I have to catch up with Grey’s Anatomy”
“Come on, you should find time to relax. It must be so hard to have Romanoff all over you”
“Y-yeah”
Yes, all over you but in a totally different way than Lindsay meant.
As if on cue, Natasha opened one of the doors, emerging from a conference room. Lindsay blushed, wondering if the woman had heard. However, Natasha didn’t even look at her.
“Y/N. A word?”
“Yes, Agent” you nodded, walking past her to the empty conference room. “Is everything ok?”
“There’s a mission tonight. Nothing major. Thought you might be ready”
“Seriously?” you said, excited at the idea of infiltrating a terrorist organziation, kicking ass, saving people. “That’s… I’m ready, of course”
“Good. I’ll see you tonight”
You couldn’t even imagine she’d asked you because she was jealous of your friend.
You couldn’t complain. For one, if you did, Natasha would kick your ass. Second, it was a great opportunity, especially for a new recruit.
The fact that the mission was sitting around in a car waiting for something to happen was irrelevant.
“So, once we see that dude Rinderknech, we go inside? Hack into his computer? Bug the place?” you said, grabbing the camera and pointing the big lens towards a window of the building.
“We watch and report back” Natasha answered. You turned to her, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Intelligence is 90% of the work. And that means a lot of hours on your ass looking out for bad guys”
“Right” you said, trying to ignore the cold air inside. You couldn’t turn the car or the heat on.
“Here” Natasha said, pulling a blanket out of the backseat. Before you could thank her, she handed you a plastic cup of coffee and a scone.
“Hey, these are my favorites” you noted, biting into the pastry. Remembering your manners a second too late, you muffled a thank you to Natasha. “How did you know?”
“It’s the first thing you pick up at the cafeteria every morning” she rolled her eyes.
“Thank you, Tasha” you said again, unaware that the term of endearment had made the woman blush.
Her hands flew to the car radio, desperately trying to fill the silence.
“Leave it there” you asked when one of your favorite songs came on, placing your hand on her thigh. Natasha had to choke back a whimper.
What the hell? She’d been the one making you all hot and bothered for months now. And here you were, eating a scone and patting her leg, making a mess out of the best spy in the world.
“Keane was my first concert” she heard you say. Her blank stare made you insist, waiting for a reaction. “Keane? English band?”
“I don’t listen to a lot of music. And I’ve never been to a concert either” she muttered, pretending to look out the window for your person of interest.
“A concert virgin. If you ever interested, I’ll be happy to be your first” you joked.
“Thanks. That might be fun”
“Not as good as playing darts and getting drunk, though” you said and Natasha bit back a smile.
It was the first time either one of you mentioned that night. Mainly because bringing it up only made you think about how good Natasha felt.
Green eyes met yours and the intensity made you shiver.
The sound of a text on your phone interrupted the moment
“That your girlfriend?” Natasha said, feigning indifference.
“Who, Lindsay? She’s just a friend”
“Right. Don’t be naive. That’s how you get yourself killed out in the field” the redhead grumbled.
“Sorry, I haven’t noticed much other than how ridiculously good you look on your SHIELD uniform”
“Stop that” Natasha said, blushing.
Blushing because of you? Accomplishment of a lifetime.
“I’m only giving as good as I get, Agent”
Natasha chuckled, moving forward in her seat to get a better look out… and probably hide that she was blushing again.
“There they are” she nodded towards the corner. You recognised Rinderknech by the tattoo on his neck. He was speaking to a group of men when their attention turned to your car.
“Nat?” you said when two of their bodyguards began to approach you. “What do we do?”
Turning back, Natasha noticed a black SUV, blocking the back street. It was impossible to escape without making a scene.
Her mind went blank, the only concern she had was that you could get hurt, all because she made you join her on a mission that wasn’t that necessary.
The men kept walking and Natasha remained frozen. Then, it came to you.
“Kiss me” you turned, urgency in your tone.
“What?”
“PDA and all that. Will make them uncomfortable. Just do it” you said, pulling her by the shirt until her lips met yours.
This time, her lips tasted of coffee and sugar. After a few seconds, Natasha’s mind drifted from the mission, and all she could think about was you. As your mouth parted to give her access, Natasha’s hand went up your leg all the way to the button of your jeans.
“Excuse me?” a man tapped on the glass.
Damn it. You rolled down the window, swollen lips and the first two buttons of your shirt undone. When did she do that?
“Oh, never mind” the man looked amused, but seemed convinced enough that you weren’t a threat.
“We should go” Natasha said, knowing it wasn’t safe to stick around after a close call.
You spent the rest of the ride in silence, but it was pretty obvious what was going through your head as you shifted uncomfortably on your seat of the car.
“We should…”
“Do you want to…?”
As Natasha parked the car, you spoke at the same time, looking at each other and smiling.
Before you could start over, Barton approached the car, surprised when he spotted you inside.
“Hey, you must be Y/N” Barton said, looking at the coffee cup and the bag with half a scone. He smiled again, turning to Natasha. “Jesus, Nat. Just ask the girl out”
“Shut it”
“Crappy coffee in a car during a stakeout is not a proper date” the man insisted and walked away before Natasha could slap the lights out of him.
“And here I was, thinking I was on the mission for my talents” you laughed, exiting the car.
“Y/N, wait!” Natasha called. “I did. Wanted to ask you out. I’m just… not good at this”
“That’s ok. I am” you said, pulling her close to you. “Let’s just not do darts, tequila or fight against organized crime. I think we’ve had enough of that”
“What about all the kissing?”
“Oh, that is definitely happening” you smiled, leaning forward. “I can’t wait for you to hear all the Russian I’ve been learning, detka”
With a kiss on her neck, you walked to the SHIELD building, pleased with Nat’s shocked stare.
All these months, she’d been teaching you how to be a spy; and more importantly, how to be a tease.
She was about to found out how good of a teacher she was.
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tim-shii · 7 months
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why do we have hands?
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alt title: why do we have hands? (aventurine's version)
a/n: that one meme thingy idk how to describe it but hopefully u get the reference 🤞 uh there is like a good 40 days plus(?) until MY MAN COMES HOME live laugh love aventurine ,, also might possibly make dr ratio's version of this idk hes growing on me okay ,, who r we kidding I AM DOWN BAD FOR HIM AS WELL
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why do we have hands? there are many reasons.
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to pat the aventurine.
when aventurine is not at work or he doesn’t feel like gambling for the day, his usual frivolous and fairly confident persona slips away. instead, he turns into this lazy cat-like person with the way he curls up beside you on the couch, head on your lap and face buried in your stomach. he doesn’t say much (how can he? he’s literally in dreamland right now). however, he asks you of one thing; please do not stop running your fingers through his hair. it doesn’t matter if he’s already snoring away, never take your hands off his head. you need to use your phone with two hands? well, too bad ‘cause now you have to type with one hand for the next three hours. 
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to hold the aventurine.
aventurine has to travel a lot for his work. typically, his business trips would lasts between four days or two weeks. but this one is just taking too much of his time. it has been four months, two weeks, six days and seventeen hours since he last saw you. the phone calls and texts doesn’t do your presence any justice. aventurine’s pretty sure he’s slowly going insane and another minute without you will might as well be his 13th reason. so what does he do the moment he kicks down the door of your shared home? drags you to bed and drops all of his weight on you. he sighs and relaxes, the tension leaving his body when he feels you wrap your arms around him.
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to cherish the aventurine.
with no work on his itinerary, aventurine wakes up early and gets out of bed before you. he then sneaks away to the kitchen after fixing the blanket around you and leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. an hour later, as he’s waiting for the coffee, he feels your cheek against his shoulder, soft voice of yours mumbling a morning greeting. a nice breakfast is already set up on the table. as he’s pouring the coffee to your respective mugs, aventurine hums in content as you went to peck his cheek in gratitude (“thanks for breakfast.”)
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to forfeit all mortal possessions to aventurine.
it’s either he’s really skilled in gambling or he’s just got an insane amount of luck but aventurine tends to win most poker games he participates in. that being said, his bank account is loaded. he doesn’t have to worry about spending too much, he can practically buy you anything you’d want without looking at the price tags. but when it comes to you buying him something, aventurine becomes speechless. he just stares and stands, not knowing what to do or say, as you hand him a trinket you bought after it reminded you of him. this happens every time you come home from an errand. it has reached the point where he has to tell you that yes, he likes and appreciates all the gifts you give, but please stop spending your money because he’s the one who should be spoiling you and not the other way around.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
1K notes · View notes
watsittoyah · 3 months
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The Devils Playpen
A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC
NEXT
This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.
That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.
You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…
Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…
(Song: Obsession By Exo)
Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)
I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.
How lucky she is.
I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.
However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.
My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.
“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.
“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.
“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.
I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.
“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.
“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.
Interesting…
“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.
No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.
“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”
“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.
“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”
“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.
“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.
I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.
“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”
“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.
In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.
Will she beg for her life?
Will she plead that I do it quickly?
The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.
Zen…
She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.
Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.
I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.
If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?
Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?
I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.
I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.
Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.
“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.
“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.
I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.
I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-
“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.
I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.
I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?
Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.
As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.
“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.
“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.
She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?
“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.
“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.
I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .
“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.
Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-
“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”
Mae?
I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.
“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.
I wonder how her teeth taste.
“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.
Oh you little liar.
Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.
“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.
How did I not notice him this close to me?
I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.
Did he just sniff his fingers?
“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.
Hmmm…
“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.
“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”
I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”
Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.
Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.
“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.
He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.
I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.
••••
“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.
Who would be stupid enough to follow me?
I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.
They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.
The sweet spicy arousal.
I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.
As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.
“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.
He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.
He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”
“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.
His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.
But…
No one comes.
Not even a curious onlooker.
He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.
Wait no, it can’t end this way.
I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.
My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.
“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”
•••••
I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.
I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.
“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.
Someone did…
He did…
“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.
He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.
“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.
“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”
I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”
“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.
“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.
“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.
My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”
Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.
I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.
“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.
I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.
My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.
“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.
This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.
“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.
“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.
I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.
A light saber.
My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.
He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.
“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.
“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.
I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.
“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”
“Ah, what do you say?”
“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.
The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.
“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”
He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.
You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.
“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.
He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.
“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.
“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.
“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.
“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”
“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.
The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…
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latenightdaydreams · 22 days
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Pirate Captain König please 🙏
A woman hides aboard his ship and doesn't get caught until he walks his deck late at night while the others are drinking below?
She's on the run and needed to flee.
Pirate!König x Stowaway (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, mentions of murder, light violence, some fluff.
1.0k word count
🏴‍☠️
.
.
To escape prosecution for the death of your late husband, you went on the run. Living life as a lady of society has gotten you nowhere but into more trouble. Along the coastline, there are usually ships that part to the new world. A place you can start new. No one would know your name or life story.
Late at night while walking, you see a single ship docked. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, so you waste no time in boarding. What you don’t know at the time is that the ship hadn’t docked at an official port. It is simply here so the rambunctious pirates on board can buy more supplies before their next voyage. Once you make sure the coast is clear, you rush on to the ship and quickly find a place to hide. Your body finally feeling safe after the last weeks' events, you eventually fall asleep.
The next day, when you wake up, you can hear the sound of men’s voices booming all around. You decide to stay hidden and wait for nightfall before attempting to move around the ship. In your mind, you try to think of a story to spin for the captain, assuming that you will eventually have to come face to face with one of these men.
That night, König sat with his men down below to celebrate their recent successes. They all sing, drink, and carry on. König, not being a very social man, takes a break from the cramped area and goes up on deck to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. It’s a calm night, the moon large and lighting up the typically dark seas.
With slow footsteps, he begins to walk around and looks up at the stars in the sky. Other than the sounds coming from below deck, it’s a quiet night. König lets out a soft sigh and runs his fingers through his long blond hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a silhouette. He turns his head to see you. Standing in a pale-colored dress at the edge of the deck and looking out.
It takes him a good minute to take in what he’s seeing. For a moment he thinks it’s the alcohol mixed with loneliness making him see what he desires, but then he hears you hum softly. His eyes travel up and down your body before settling back on the back of your head. He takes a few soft steps as to not scare you with his presence.
“Miss?” König speaks quietly.
He startles you, causing you to jump. Unaware anyone had even come up, your eyes meet with his as you slowly begin to stammer, stumbling over your words. You never came up with a good excuse to be on board in the instance you were found. For some reason, you figured it would take longer before it happened.
“I’m sorry.” Is all that manages to leave your lips.
“For?” König raises an eyebrow as he continues to approach you, not allowing you to make space between the two of you.
“Being…here.” Your voice sounds small and unsure.
König would usually be annoyed and angry with a situation like this, but you’re a woman; an attractive one at that. Being on the sea leaves König with very little time to meet or interact with women, so he isn’t in a rush to do away with you. He takes a moment to study your facial expression, one of panic.
“You’re on the run I assume?” König asks with a sly grin.
“How did you know?” You ask with wide eyes.
“Beautiful women don’t usually just board any old ship without good reason. They’re usually running from trouble or are trouble.” König steps even closer leaving only a few inches between the two of you. “And which one might you be?”
“I- I’m no trouble.” The tone in which you speak and the look in your eyes gives you away, and König is smart enough to know when he’s being lied to.
“Nein?” König walks around you, inspecting you. He stops behind you and wraps his hands around your waist, holding you and pulling you back towards him. “You know, I’m not exactly a law-abiding citizen. You can trust me, Engel.”
Feeling unsafe with his arms around you, you snap. You turn and land a punch to his face. A look of surprise forms as you pull back to hit him again, but he moves quicker than you. His larger fist wraps around yours, letting out a deep chuckle. There is a sparkle in his eye where you expected rage to be. He pulls you flush against his body as he gazes down at you.
“So, you are the trouble then.” König says, laughing softly. “What did you do, Engel?”
“I killed my husband.” You admit as if at confession, the heavy weight lifts off of your chest.
“I’m sure he deserved it.” König responds with a gentle tone. “You’re safe here with me. My men don’t hurt women.” He reassures you as he lets go of your fist and moves his hand to caress your face.
You nod your head, not expecting this to be the response. The fact you didn’t have to explain yourself and he just… accepts you. For a moment you’re simply speechless, how can you say thank you for this type of tenderness?
“You don’t know how kind you are sir.”
“Call me König, bitte. What’s your name?”
“I’m y/n.”
“Y/n…” König repeats your name to get used to the taste on his tongue. His eyes drift down your body, taking note of how your dress fits your form. You are not only a dangerous woman, but a stunning one. Exactly his type. “Please, let’s get you something to eat.”
König’s fingers slip into yours, intertwining while he holds your hand gently. He leads you forward and down to where the rest of his crew is drinking. They all grow silent quickly when they see you.
“Men, this is y/n. She will be my personal guest so please treat her with the same respect.” König looks down at you and smiles. “Let’s make her feel at home.”
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1dream-big1 · 1 month
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Jouw liefdesleven is een sticky situation
soo, uh, i wrote my first fanfiction and smut ever. this is explicit rpf, please just scroll away if you're against it.
summary: horny joost jerking off in the shower and thinking about the reader pairing: joost x fem!reader word count: around 1.9k cw: 18+, jerking off, mentions of unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), handjob, no use of y/n, all lowercase
not proof read, i only used grammarly to check for random mistakes since english is my second language lol.
all these festivals were getting exhausting – not just physically, but also mentally. sure, it was fun, addicting even, to have all these people shouting his name, his lyrics, being completely enamoured by his mere existence. it wasn’t always just positive, sometimes he would have people looking for him, digging up personal things, being disrespectful. it hurt, but unfortunately, that was just a part of being famous. he didn’t want to think about that though. 
he just finished another performance – the energy was great, everything went well, yet he couldn’t shake off this weird feeling. the whole crew decided to go out for a few drinks. that would for sure help with that feeling, right? it was something they used to do way more often, but lately, the hype was too much and it was hard for him to unwind and truly enjoy the rest of the evening when he wasn’t sure if someone was secretly watching him, taking photos, or recording him. this city, however, was quite lowkey. they all went to a place where they had a vip space reserved for them. the music was okay, not his taste, but it didn’t make his ears bleed. not that it mattered in the end, all he wanted was to just get his goddamn beer. maybe the alcohol hitting his bloodstream would help with the feeling which he still wasn’t able to shake off. the conversation was fun, filled with so many inside jokes and stupid memes that they had seen on social media, but the uneasiness still sat deep inside him even after several beers. he didn’t want to drink more, they all had to leave pretty early the next day, and traveling with a bad hangover wasn’t exactly on his to-do list. 
„not to be the party pooper,“ he interrupted the ongoing chat and continued: „i think i’ll leave you here. something’s kinda off, i dunno, think i just need to shower and sleep.“ he got up, grabbing his hoodie that was lying next to him on the couch. „no worries, man, get some rest,“ said one of his friends, they all exchanged goodbyes and with the hoodie over his head he left the bar. it was already around midnight, he could hear some people yelling in the distance but he didn’t really pay any attention to the noise. the cold breeze felt good, „smells like summer,“ he thought to himself as he breathed in the fresh air and smiled. so many crazy memories made during such nights. he stopped under a flickering post lamp, dug into one of his pockets, and took out a pack of cigarettes, all of them almost gone. „shit, i’ll have to buy some tomorrow,“ he muttered under his breath as he was taking one of the cigarettes, putting it between his lips. he lit the cigarette, smoke filling his mouth and then inhaling it all. the walk towards the hotel didn’t take him too long, in just under ten minutes, he was standing in front of his room and unlocking the door. 
the room was spacious, and quite fancy as well, there was some expensive-looking modern art hanging over the king-sized bed. it didn’t matter to him that much though. as long as he got to sleep somewhere. he used to move so much, going from couch to couch, living in different foster families’ houses. nothing felt like home, not even his own house. the only time he actually felt at home was in your embrace. „shit,“ he sighed as he started thinking about you. he really missed the feeling of you two being together in bed, him lying on top of you and you holding him closely, one hand caressing his back while the other one was lightly scratching his scalp. feeling your chest lift with each breath, you kissing him on the top of his head, playing with his hair. such intimate moments that were taken away from him while he was doing all these shows. he sighed again and rubbed his eyes. all he could think about was you, making out with you and touching all the sensitive places that always made you lightly moan into his mouth and lean into his touch.
he pulled off his hoodie and threw it somewhere haphazardly, then removed his shirt and pulled his pants off, kicking both in the same direction as the hoodie. he looked down at his polo ralph lauren boxers and felt himself get excited from all those thoughts about you. all those whimpers, you whispering: „fuck, joost, please don’t stop,“ into his ear as you’re getting close to your climax while he’s thrusting into you, his fingers circling your clit. it was driving him crazy. he reached down and palmed his growing erection. for a second, he contemplated jerking off right on the spot, but he needed a shower anyway – he might as well just get off in the shower. he groaned at the sensation of his hand slowly stroking himself through his underwear. „fuck, schat, i miss you so much,“ he thought and finally walked into the bathroom, where he removed his last piece of clothing. 
he looked at himself in the mirror, his hands slowly roaming over his body, the skin feeling a bit sticky from all the sweat. he liked being gentle with himself like this, sometimes he would just wrap his arms around his body and feel the self-love. in the end, that is the most real love anyone can get in this world. he pinched his nipple and watched his dick twitch – yet again it surprised him how sensitive his nipples were. the thoughts of you kissing his chest, your hands caressing his soft tummy, your lips moving to his nipples and softy licking them, kissing them, gently biting them filled his mind. all this always made him arch his back and whimper your name, desperate pleas to wrap your hand around his hard cock already ready to escape his mouth. his hand continued down his happy trail, the movement was so slow, he was so pent up yet for some reason decided to tease himself like that. maybe because that was something you would always do? always using your fingertips and light touches to build up the tension and make the release even more powerful. „fucking hell,“ he let out a moan as he finally wrapped his hand around himself, stroking his cock a few times. it was so lewd, masturbating right in front of the mirror, watching himself get harder – „shit, what if there are cameras?“  an intrusive thought entered his brain, but he immediately shook his head to get rid of it. „okay, fuck, shower,“ he realised and finally entered the stall. 
he set the shower head to rain and sighed at the sensation. it felt so good, warm water gently falling on his skin and he wished he could share the moment with you. you’d press your body on his, push one of your legs between his, and feel him slowly grind your thigh, his leaking tip touching your stomach with each thrust. then you’d get on your knees and look up while wrapping your lips around the tip, your right hand working on the rest of his cock while the other hand would massage his balls. he was sure he wouldn’t last for a long time, his hand would stroke himself so fast and then come all over your tongue and lips. he knew the taste wasn’t good at all, he was smoking too much, but you still swallowed because his reaction was so worth it plus it made the cleanup so much easier. all these thoughts were too much, he was slowly losing himself in all this. he leaned towards the wall and stroked himself. he looked down, his dick fully erect, he knew he was pretty big, and the size was especially noticeable when your dainty hands were jerking him off instead. he moaned loudly and picked up the pace, already feeling himself getting close to the edge, even though it had been only a few minutes. 
his mind wandered again, this time he imagined pushing you against the shower wall, making you face it, slapping your ass, and positioning himself right at your entrance. he would tease you for a few seconds, to make both of you want it even more, then slowly push his dick inside you, letting you get used to his girth. it wouldn’t take long for him to start thrusting into you hard and fast – he loved taking his time, even being submissive and letting you take the lead, but sometimes, all he wanted was to fuck you senseless. he loved hearing your moans, calling out his name. yeah, fans screaming out: „joost klein!“ was great, but it was nothing compared to you moaning it when he was deep inside of you, his hands on your hips, moving them towards his body with each thrust, and his lips kissing you everywhere he could reach. it was such a dangerous game, fucking you raw with no birth control whatsoever, both of you not ready to bring a child into this world. he wished he could thrust into you deep and come inside, then watch his cum drip onto your pretty thighs. he’d always pull out and come on your body instead. 
„fuck, baby,“ he moaned loudly, his hand moving so fast on his dick that he was scared he’d get a cramp. his head fell back, he shut his eyes tight, and the thought of feeling you coming on his cock and your muscles squeezing him set him over the edge. he felt his dick twitch in his hand, his movements slowed down until he stopped completely, just holding his cock, and watched the cum that had fallen on the shower floor mix with the water. some of it got on his hand, „ugh,“ he muttered under his breath because it would always turn into such a sticky mess when mixed with water. he washed it off, grabbed a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some of it in his palm. he massaged his scalp and wished you were there with him and helped him finish the shower. the sex was great, but it was these intimate moments, you slowly massaging his body with a loofah and cleaning him up, that made him feel so loved. he finished off the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips, not even bothering to dry off his wet body. he had a better idea on his mind – he quickly entered the bedroom, wincing at the cold air against his skin, and grabbed his phone. he opened up instagram, quickly found your messages, and opened the camera. he took a selfie, making sure you could see his body was all wet and the towel was dangerously low, showing off his trimmed pubes, and added a short caption: „miss you, schatje, so much. i just came so good thinking about you, baby. :-* can’t wait to get back to you. i love you, liefje. <3“ he set the photo to one view only and hit send.
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gurugirl · 8 months
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Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.
Word Count: 9k
Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption
Can We Start Over? masterlist
“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”
You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.
“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”
You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”
And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.
The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.
You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.
.           .           .
You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away. 
You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.
You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.
When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.
You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica
You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!
You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.
You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.
It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.
.           .           .          
Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.
He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.
The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.
“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”
The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.
So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.
Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.
“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”
Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?
“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”
Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.
Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.
Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.
The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.
As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.
“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”
“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”
“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.
Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.
“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“
“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”
Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.
He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.
“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”
“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”
She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.
Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.
He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.
“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.
But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.
“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.
“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.
But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”
You stopped and turned to look at him in question.
“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.
You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?
“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.
“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.
“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”
Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.
“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“
“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”
What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?
But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.
“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.
Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.
You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.
When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”
You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”
You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.” 
Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.
“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.
Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.
You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”
Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.
“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.
“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”
Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”
You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”
Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”
You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”
Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”
“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.
Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”
You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.
Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”
Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.
You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.
“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”
You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.
You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.
He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.
Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.
You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.
“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”
“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”
“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.
“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”
.           .           .
“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”
You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.
You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.
But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.
“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.
You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”
��Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”
Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.
“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.
Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”
Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.
.           .           .
You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.
But traffic is unpredictable.
“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.
“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”
You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.
And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.
When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.
“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.
“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”
You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.
You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.
“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.
You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.
He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”
“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.
He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”
You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.
After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”
Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?
You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual.  So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.
At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.
“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.
He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.
“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.
Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”
You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”
“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”
You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.
In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.
“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.
“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.
Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”
“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”
Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”
You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”
It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.
You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.
After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.
“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.
“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.
You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.
“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”
You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.
You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.
Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.
Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.
You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”
You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”
“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”
“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.
Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.
Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.
“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.
Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.
When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.
He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”
“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.
He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”
You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.
You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.
.           .           .
You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.
Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.
“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”
You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.
.           .           .
You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.
“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.
“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.
Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.
But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.
Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.
The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.
“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.
“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.
Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.
“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.
He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.
Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.
“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.
“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.
Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.
You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.
“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”
“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!
Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.
“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”
“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”
You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”
Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.
“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.
Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.
“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.
“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”
You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”
Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.
But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”
Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.
“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”
Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?
He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.
“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”
When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.
He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.
Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”
You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.
When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.
Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.
Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”
He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.
When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.
He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.
“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.
Part 3
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as-is-above-so-below · 9 months
Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Blurb 2: Too Fast
I'M ALIVE! Thank you all for your patience :) I've had so many big life changes in the last four months (and in the coming months) - it's hard being an adult, people. I've been traveling (mainly visiting @lethalchiralium a bunch <3), planning a big move, looking to land a new job...all the things. Anyway! Please enjoy. Blessed be, and Happy Yuletide!
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“Si…”
“Hm?”
“He’s getting too big.”
Simon turned his chair slightly away from his desk to peek over his shoulder. In the doorway to their office stood Freyja with a six-month-old Arthur on her arm, clad in a cow-print onesie. The little hood was pulled up over his head, sporting fluffy little ears on top, along with a pair of horns. 
He just about melted when Frey pouted at him and sniffled, rubbing their son’s back. Simon was up in an instant, padding across the carpet to stand by her side, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his features. He bent his head a little and attempted to get the baby’s attention, gently brushing his back with his fingers “Art. Artie…” he hummed, the last syllable drawn out a bit. “Look at Dada, Art.”
Arthur did eventually turn his head, after a moment, preoccupied with gumming his toy and confused by the interruption. The hood that used to hang over his face and block his vision now sat snug on his fine hair. There was no need to adjust it back to meet his big, curious eyes. 
“Hi, pup.”
Simon wasn’t his preferred parent by any means; that privilege was reserved for his mum. Still, on seeing a familiar face, the baby smiled around his teething ring, and his fat cheeks chubbed up as he cooed and wiggled in Freyja’s hold. He pressed his hand between the two, his palm against Arthur’s chest, and took the infant onto his forearm, his little back against his chest. 
Simon let out a dramatic huff, kissed Art’s head, then patted his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he said, giving his wife a playful look. “Look at those big, manly legs of yours. Thing’s a bit tight on ye, now.”
The baby craned his neck, trying to look back at his dad as he spoke, and quickly getting frustrated and crying out. Simon chuckled and turned him around, supporting his neck and peppering kisses on Art’s rosy cheek. When he was satisfied, he leaned down for a quick kiss from Freyja.
“It lasted longer than I thought it would. He’s nearly busting out of it.”
“Simon!”
“What? He’s six months old, Freyja. He’s been wearing it since he was born. Oversized, might I add.”
“Shut up. It’s my favorite. My little moo cow.” 
“We can buy him a new one.”
“He’s growing too fast. I hate it.”
Don’t I know it?
To Simon, it felt like Artie had only been born yesterday. Where did the baby in front of him, who was sitting up on his own and already using a sign or two, come from? He had no idea, couldn’t say where the time went. God forbid he blinks, and suddenly he’ll be walking and chasing after his sister-
No. It’s fine. That’s what babies do, yeah? They start eating solids, learn to crawl, then walk. Then they go to their first day of primary school, then…secondary…
Stop it.
He settled for a soft, “I know, love.”
Arthur cooed up at him again, a sound known to pull easy smiles from the man. He would listen to it forever, if he could. 
“Yeah? Do you like that idea?” Simon asked, tracing patterns on Art’s back with his fingers again. “Do you want a new cow onesie?” A little smile from Art. “Alright, pup. Dad will get you one.”
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thepersonnamedsam · 10 months
Note
heyy🤍
I was wondering if u could kindly write a little something about period cuddles and comfort with lando, thank you in advanceee
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: headcanons about period cuddles with lando
warnings: period pains, blood
note: i am so sorry it took me sooooo long to write your request!!! pls accept my apology, please!!!!
masterlist / taglist
it had started again, your period
what it meant for you was; pain, pain and more pain, it was unbearable
800mg of ibuprofen every 6 hours, warmth and curled up either in bed or on the couch was usually the solution for the week
when lando wasn’t around
if lando was there (which usually wasn’t the case), you cuddled - always
„baby, please let me help you, i can’t stand to see you in pain“
you smiled through your pain and just told him to go and buy your favourite snack
he called carlos - he for sure has some womanly advice for the youngster
c: „why did you not cuddle with her, cabrón?“
l: „she didn’t offer it, i didn’t want to overstep“
as he returned home with more than half the store, he slowly approached you
„baby? are you sleeping? do you want cuddles?“
you whined and nodded your head
„c‘mere baby“
his arms snaked around your abdomen, his warm hands rested on your lower belly, massaging lightly, trying to ease your pain
„does it feel good? am i doing something wrong?“
you told him he did everything right, which he let out a sigh
his body warmth made you feel sleepy
„just go to sleep, baby, i’ll be here when you wake up, promise“
his steady breath and light massaging let you fall asleep easily
your breath slowed and your eyes closed, lando knew you were finally asleep
he didn’t want to get up, but your hot water bottle had started to get cold
so he got up as slowly and as silently as he good, without waking you up
the hot water bottle was taken out of your grip and lando started to boil water in the kettle
he also tried to make you some sort of dessert, but he failed miserably
he put the now freshly hot water bottle in your grip again and turned on the tv
when you woke up, your favourite series was paused on the screen and lando was just scrolling through instagram
„good morning baby, how was your sleep, you in any pain?“
you nodded and he handed you a cold glass of water and the next batch of ibuprofen
„has it been 6 hours already“, you has asked him
„yeah, i got this period app where it lets you document your medication. now i always know when your next periods gonna be“
you were surprised about his engagement
actually you weren’t, he’s your boyfriend and a bloody good one at that
but it’s still lando
„press play already!“, you demanded
„alright“, he laughed and pressed play on the remote
he lightly started to caress your neck with soft kisses
a kiss there
a kiss here
it felt so good
„please don’t stop baby“
„never.“
you could never survive another period without lando
even if that meant travelling to grand prixs with him and sharing his time with racing
but it didn’t matter, because he was still as affectionate as ever and never stopped comforting you through your pain
even when you started crying over charles dsq in texas
he brought you to the ferrari garage to comfort charles - more for your comfort, but it didn’t matter
charles had to promise you, that he was fine and that he’s not gonna quit and accidentally end up on a ranch as a cowboy
lando thanked charles multiple times that day
or when you saw a little kid tumble and fall to the ground - you instantly started crying with the kid
lando hugged you and promised to help the little kid (even tho he was cackling up inside)
or when he had to get roscoe from lewis, because you needed cuddles but the race was about to start
you watched the race from his drivers room and cried when he drove into the points
you could get very emotional
but lando loved that about you
let’s be honest, that man loved everything about you
he still wasn’t sure how you were his girlfriend (lando norrizz)
but you loved him very much
°°°
@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone
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cheriladycl01 · 10 months
Text
I can’t do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 1
Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronius, you’ve worked your whole life to become an Engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn’t want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as a present father figure.
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“Hey dad! Guess what!” You exclaim to you dad as you walk in to the Mercedes F1 HQ in Brackley.
“What sweetheart I’m a little busy right now” he says pointing out Lewis and George who are with him.
“Well I just got my university grade back! I got a First Class degree!” You exclaim, showing the grade on your phone to him.
“That’s really good darling but it’s not like you’ll need it for anything in life. Surely I provide for you enough” he smiles not fully listening. Lewis sends me a sympathetic nod. Lewis had been your idol in the F1 world, when you first met him you were 11 and he was 27. He basically helped raise you. You were on the road with your dad for most of you life, in between the mechanics tutoring you in maths and science and your mum helping you with English.
You managed to pass all exams at lower levels despite all the constant travelling and proceeded to ask your dad to attend university. Lewis was like your older brother, you were the first person he would always hug when he won a race. He’d take you out for dinner and make sure you ate well and he would buy you little gifts. You’d both constantly joke about how you’d become his engineer one day but little did you know that he wanted that as a reality so badly. You were and always would be his number one girl.
“But dad” you asked and he turned to look at you, and brushed you off once again. You walked out back to your apartment a little sad with your father.
This continued for the next few months, whenever you spoke to him about getting a job as a Data Analyst or a Car Designer or god forbid an engineer he quickly steered the conversation away and it was starting to frustrate you.
“I can’t do this anymore” you said to yourself sadly.
So when it came to the last race of the season, you made your way over to the RedBull garage. Looking around.
“Y/N Wolff, you can’t be in here” a voice smirks, you head turns to see the Mexican driver for RedBull, Checo.
“Erm, hi. I’ve actually come to see Christian” you admit, looking down shyly. This is when more people join the conversation, Kelly and Max have joined both looking intrigued as to why I’m in the garage of the enemy.
They observed you, you were still in your Mercedes stop which was white and made you stand out in the see of dark blue and red of the Red Bull colours. Max couldn’t put his finger on why the hell Toto Wolff their biggest competitor had sent his daughter to their garage. Or maybe they hadn’t sent her, was she here of her own accord?
“Not here to steal our data are you?” He asks, looking at you with a smirk.
You rock back and forth on your heels, a little uncomfortable with the situation you had put yourself into. Why didn’t you just message him, or not walk in in your Mercedes gear…
“No i actually have to see Christian” you say, and after cocking his head Max nods and directs you to where Christian is.
“Ahh Mini Wolff, what can I do for you?” Christian asks as you enter his office, Max left after shutting the door for the both of you, you’d kind of hoped he would stick around as a sort of buffer. But you knew Max was a busy man with a race to prepare for.
“I got my engineering degree in September, I want to work for you” you say bluntly. You take a seat at the other chair opposite him, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist slinging your hair back, trying to show how serious your facial expression was and that you weren’t here on a mere joke from your father.
“Excuse me?” He asks with a confused smile on his face.
“I want to work for RedBull, I know this is odd because your are Christian Horner Team Principle of Red Bull Racing and your probably sat there thinking why the hell is this Mercedes golden girl, here asking ME for a job of all thing. Well it’s actually a really funny story that starts like way way back in the day-“ you started by Christian coughs a little before interrupting.
“You’re rambling, just get to the point”
“I literally did, I said I want to work for you, and you said excuse me I thought that was you asking for a further explanation” you admit a shocked look coming onto your face, your eyebrow raised and head cocked to one side.
“Why don’t you go to your dad for a job? I’m almost positive he’d love to have you work on his team with him. You know pass the principle legacy onto you…” He asked.
“Well I tried but-“
“Are you telling me little Missy that you came to me as second choice” he exclaims and again your cheeks flush and eyes widen impossibly further.
“N-no it’s just that I have this degree and he won’t let me use it for anything and I want to be useful at something in life Yano? I love engineering and I’d love to help the current Constructors Champions out” you explain.
“Well you Little Wolff are in luck, Max’s race engineer leaves on Paternity leave soon, so we need a fill in. Then you can help with the car for next year? How’s that?”
“Are you serious?”
“Well how about we test the waters with your communication on Thursday with Max, then do a test drive on Friday with you. If it’s exceptionally shit, well we will figure something out. But I have faith in you!” He smiles, and stands up coming around the large white desk to meet you face to face, his Han chording out as to shake.
You take his hand, keeping eye contact with him, excited that you will finally be able to work.
“Oh also you’ll be needed in our uniform by Thursday I’ll put an express order out and have it sent to the hotel in Mexico for next week how’s that?” He queries tapping away on his phone rattling of stuff to his private assistant that they would need to cater for you on the next race weekend.
“Hmm, it’s Sunday today so, we’ll announce on Friday that you’ll be working with us for the remainder of the season. Hopefully that will stir up enough to get people riled up before the race” Christian gloats, his mind probably swimming with all the drama and news articles that would be floating around the paddock in a weeks time.
“I’m sure it will, especially my dad” you grunt.
“Thank you for the opportunity. I promise I won’t mess it up” you say and he nods you out of the exit, Max, Kelly and Sergio are all there waiting trying to look as if they hadn’t been snooping in on your conversation.
You gave a nod of understanding to them before exiting the garage trying to subtly make your way back to Mercedes without being noticed by anyone. However your luck wasn’t very good as none other than George, Charles, Alex and Lando rounded the corner.
“Y\N what are you doing coming out of the Red Bull garage” George questions, a confused look on his puppy dog face.
“Erm, I’m in a rush” you say before slipping past them, he goes to follow you but Lando stops him, nodding over to Max, Dani and Sergio that are all looking in their direction with smirks on their faces.
“What happened there then?” Charles asked confused.
“Why the hell was she in that garage, and alone?” George questions more to himself.
“Maybe she has a thing with one of the engineers?” Alex shrugged, easiest explanation to him.
“Surely not” George says a roughness to his voice after hearing that , that the others had failed to notice.
“Let’s go ask Max” Lando advises, starting to walk over.
811 notes · View notes
nvuy · 3 months
Note
omg did u see the sunday leaks ab his path and element..... hes also suspected to be released in 2.7 😭😭😭 sunday lovers r in agony rn
sunday potential leaks under cut;
aundayyyysyeyyyyy sundayydydyerrrerredder
hgrrgggggggggggggg
imaginary harmony… hehehehegrrrrrrrrrrrr
stellaron hunter aundaygrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
i always had this thing where you are an on call mechanic and you travel to planets and people commission you to fix their cars or their ships or whatever. you own a little warehouse on your home planet, whatever whatever.
you love your job. you’re also a bit of a grouch though. bit snarky, sarcastic, but you can offer some good advice if you need to.
you also happen to be the mechanic elio calls on when their ship needs repairs. it’s all completely secret. they call you in, you come on board, fix their shit, they pay you nicely, and then you leave.
you know them all well enough by now.
you’ve got elio who, when you come on board, says, “oh, by the way, watch the stairs on your way down.” (and surely enough you end up toppling down because there’s a loose step and you bruise your knee) (thanks for the warning). sometimes, you’re convinced he breaks their mangy old coffee machine just so you can visit again.
kafka loves to mess with you, but she means well. she enjoys a good chat, and sometimes when she’s not busy, she’ll follow you down to the engine and bring coffee. she drinks it black. gross.
she’ll ask about you, what you’ve been up to, how you’re feeling, whatever whatever. calls you beautiful, too. you guys probably kissed once. it’s sort of complicated.
blade is unfortunately your favourite. you love giving him giant hugs when you cross paths on the ship, and sometimes it’s like a reward when he returns the favour. at first you thought he was some big brooding hulk of a man, and then you learned he’s actually just some dude with really big arms. you also learn he owns bunny slippers and he likes pancakes, as weird as that is.
silver wolf cooks them best. you don’t really speak to her; she’s way too absorbed in her phone, but she thinks you’re cool. sometimes asks you questions about her PC or phone hardware and stuff, to which you reply, “i’m not tech support, weirdo.” she knows that, but your reactions are always fun. if kafka’s not around, she’ll show you the clothes she’s planning to buy online.
so you’re a common occurrence on the shuttle, sure. imagine your damn surprise when you stomp on board in the morning and when kafka greets you over her coffee, you accidentally shoulder check some random skinny dude (that’s not elio, because elio wouldn’t stand in the way at all) when you open the door.
you don’t pay it mind.
rather, you barely even notice and stalk over to the stupid machine while elio waves you a good morning. as you’re working, kafka leans on the bench next to you and offers you some of her coffee. it’s gross, but it keeps you awake enough to finish the job.
she’s chatting about whatever again until she falls comfortably silent.
“so, uh…” the machine buzzes to life as you plug it back into the wall. “what’s with angel face?”
she hums. “sunday.” she’s watching him now. silver wolf is showing him something on her phone, and he looks hilariously confused. “poor bird’s lost. flew too close to the sun.”
whatever that meant.
she takes her mug back from her hands. “why? like him?”
you hum lowly. when you turn and lock eyes with him, sunday quickly looks back down at silver wolf’s phone.
“handsome.” you weigh your options. “i think we’ll get along just fine.”
you were both doomed from the start, you and sunday. the pining was so obvious. you both practically chased each other around and then played it off as a coincidence when you bumped into to each other.
blade took it no mind, silver wolf gagged every time you two interacted. elio thought it was sweet, actually (he’s not surprised at how you two have developed). kafka plays wingwoman, because of course she does. she won’t voice it, but she thinks you both deserve to feel love again.
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sweetteainthesummerx · 4 months
Text
THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (12)
In which the Ferrari gang tackles Austria
series masterlist
Note: YAY their relationship is finally starting to develop more teehee. Let me know if you have feedback or if you want to be added to the taglist. Warning: mentions of an erection, mildly sexual
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
aubreyyang posted
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aubreyyang sound of music type beat
liked by dior.n.goodjohn, alexandrasaintmleux and 100,753
dior.n.goodjohn OMG THE COWS ARE SO CUTE
-- aubreyyang ikr I got to pet them I can die happy
user1 MOTHERS they're so pretty ughhh
-- user2 oh to be traveling with f1 drivers over europe
charles_leclerc pic creds for first slide and also THATS MY GF
-- aubreyyang not with that attitude
-- user3 BAHAH they're so funny bye
walker.scobell oh look its you on the third slide
-- aubreyyang I bought you a t shirt im throwing it out the window
-- walker.scobell NOOO I TAKE IT BACK
-- pjo.fandom.08 aww shes so older sibling
MESSAGES
alex 🖼️
hey cherie! I think Charles and I are going to stay in for today the hiking yesterday knocked us out
aubrey 🎬
aww okayy
we'll have dinner or lunch today tho?
alex 🖼️
bien sur!!
MESSAGES
aubrey
morning!
ollie
good morning :)
aubrey
charl and lex aren't coming to explore the city are you still up for it?
ollie
yeah ill come pick you up at ur room
Ollie silently thanked Charles and his old age: a whole morning alone with Aubrey.
“Hey.” Ollie smiled down at Aubrey when she cracked open her door at his knock.
“Morning! You wanna come in for a second? I need to put my shoes on before we go.” She pushed her earring backing on, turning as he let himself in. 
She was wearing a tiny top with no straps the colour of a ripe peach and a white skirt. The heat was unbearable, so her hair was pushed from her face in a long, pretty tail. He wondered how she would react if he smoothed his fingers along her soft, tanned skin  or if he ran his tugged at her dark hair. 
Friends, he reminded himself. But she was so…
He thumped onto her bed face down, earning a giggle from Aubrey. He flipped back up goofily, a little taken a back by the strong smell of her shampoo and perfume while she puttered around the room, retrieving knick knacks and dropping them into her little handbag. 
He pretended for one moment that she was his, and that he didn’t have to take her presence in like a drowning man gasping for air. He wouldn’t mind drowning in her, if this was the sight he would be greeted by everyday. 
“Dude. Stop staring at me like that.” She scrunched her nose. 
“Sorry.” He murmured, not sounding sorry at all. 
She tugged her sambas on, falling onto the bed next to him. He sighed, closing his eyes when she ran one hand through his hair, fingernails catching pleasantly on his scalp. 
He bit back a noise that would surely embarrass himself. 
“Tired? We can stay back today if you want.” The morning light glowed yellow beyond his eyelids, and her soft, accented voice was husky. His chest ached for her, and she was barely a foot away. 
“No, s’alright.” His eyes fluttered open. He realized with a start that while he was flat on his back, Aubrey had propped herself up on one elbow on her side next to him. He tried his best not to look at the slender expanse of her neck and chest. He failed miserably. 
“Hmm. Some shopping, some food and then we’ll head back and take a nap?” She asked, standing and reaching a small hand out to help him. Who was he to refuse? He let her drag him up, laughing when she had to put her whole body weight behind it. 
They spent the rest of the morning perusing shops after the subway ride, not really buying anything but looking and talking. He loved having her near, loved making her smile and laugh and hit his chest when his jokes were inappropriate and childish. 
Every time she turned to tell him something - that usually made him laugh - his hand twitched to reach out to touch her. Her hand, her bare face, the small of her back. 
When they realized that they’d missed breakfast and lunch (Ollie’s stomach was starting to growl, he was still growing, thank you very much) they decided to head back and see if Charles and Alex wanted a late lunch together. 
They made their way to the subway, and Ollie grabbed her hand and slid it into the crook of his elbow with the excuse of not wanting to lose her in the crowd. He threw in a short joke with it, hoping that his need to touch her was not so obvious. 
Ever since she told him that she turned her brain off when she was with him in public, he made sure to show her that this trust she held for him was very much safe and sound. 
She hummed some pop tune as he guided her onto the train, settling them both onto seats. She was showing him Formula memes when someone beside her jostled, tossing her across his lap. 
He glared at the careless man, and hauled her easily onto his lap by her waist without thinking. She went very still, and he was about to apologize profusely or dig a hole and bury himself in it (or both) but she wiggled into a comfortable position. Even sitting on his lap, he could see past her head. As she leaned back against his chest, he carefully pulled her hair up so it was resting against his shoulder and not crushed between them. 
“Let me know if I’m too heavy, I can stand-“
He kissed his teeth with his tongue, “You weigh like 5 kilos, love.”
She let out a contented hum, turning her face into his neck. Her warm breath, her scent and the tip of her nose against his jaw was too much. 
He was a man, after all. And Aubrey was objectively one of the most beautiful, kind and decent people he’d ever met. So with her moving around on his lap and her mouth dangerously close to his neck…
“Is your phone in your pocket?” She asked, reaching behind her. Panicked, he caught her wrist. 
“That’s not-“ his ears felt hot, and she stiffened. 
“Oh.”
Great, now she thought he was a pervert who-
She was laughing. At him, because they were on a subway in Vienna with her on his lap while he had a hard on. 
She was laughing, that bright, clear sound that made him melt like wax on a candle. 
He poked her side, whining, “It’s not funny!”
“It’s a little bit-“ she moved to stand, but he locked his forearm around her waist.
“Give me a second.” He muttered, and much to his chagrin she was giggling again. 
"You know, you had me worried. I thought you weren't..." she started, shrugging, face flushed prettily, "sorry, this is weird, isn't it? You're...you're my best friend."
"You're more than my best friend. You know that." he murmured and he felt her cheek tense into a smile, "What were you going to say?"
"I thought you didn't find me attractive." she bit out, mortified.
"I'm sorry? Have you seen yourself? Of course I'm attracted to you, love. I just didn't want to scare you off."
Finally, it was their station, and they walked back to the hotel, hand in hand. 
She made fun of him all the way there, and he found that he really didn’t mind, especially if she kept smiling that wide, rosy smile. 
olliebearman posted on their story
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caption: bit of shopping
aubreyyang posted on their story
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caption: collecting mirror selfies in bathrooms with my girl
tagged: alexandrasaintmleux
"Good to head back?"
"Oui." Alex smoothed her hair one more time, and they returned to their boys at the small restaurant in Vienna they were eating dinner at.
When they returned to the table from the bathroom - she was seriously collecting mirror selfies from bathrooms - and sat, Ollie wrapped one large hand around the leg of her chair ( and if she had wished that it had been her calf, that was nobody’s business) and tugged her closer to himself. He slung his arm around the back of her chair, fingers grazing her shoulder. 
“Hi.” He grinned, proud of himself. Across the table, Charles made a gagging sound. Alex rolled her eyes while smiling at her boyfriend, passing Aubrey the plate of fruit. 
“Okay, so tonight we leave for France and we stay there for two days, n’est-ce pas?”
“Oui, and then do we have plans?” Charles asked as Ollie swiped a piece of orange off of Aubrey’s plate.
“Le Tour Eiffel, obviously. Louvre, maybe some shopping?” Aubrey suggested, and the boys groaned. 
“It will be fun.” She protested, and Alex smiled sweetly. 
“Sure, Aubs.” His finger traced down her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to shiver. Ollie was getting brave. Ever since their day together exploring the city, he seemed to be getting more affectionate and clingy - which she didn’t not mind one bit. 
Before the Vienna Train Incident, as Alex and Aubrey dubbed it, he had been so sweet. The perfect gentleman, always respectful and kind. She had actually wondered if he’d found her attractive at all. 
But when he had whispered low and panicked in her ear that the hardness nudging into her thigh was indeed not his phone, it was almost like a confirmation for her. In fact, she started to notice the little things: his ears would turn red when she traced the veins on his forearms while they waited for Alex and Charles to come down to the lobby, his eyes seemed to be magnetic against her back whenever she wore a sundress (floral usually. He really liked pale yellow. Not that she was taking note) and his hands almost always drifted to her like he wasn’t thinking. 
She was gaining confidence; that little voice in her head that kept telling her she would be so happy and safe with him if she would just her herself try…
He could make her so happy. If being friends with him was that great, being his girlfriend would be a dream. She just wanted to make sure. 
An idea came to her head, and she looked down. Ollie liked to manspread, so his knee was knocking into her crossed legs. Aha. The shoes she’d chosen for tonight were nice white heels with pointed toes. Very slowly and deliberately, she hooked the point of the shoe under his pant leg and dragged it up his skin. He choked on his water, coughing. And, bingo. His ears were turning that endearing Ferrari colour. 
“You alright, mate?” Charles asked. Aubrey saw through her peripheral that the tall man beside her was most definitely looking at her accusingly. Cute. 
“Yeah, sorry. Choked. So-“ he cleared his throat. “Shopping probably the second day, yeah? Maybe a nice dinner and then we leave for the south?”
“Mm. I think you are right, Ollie,” Alex brushed a crumb off of Charles’s shirt, “the Louvre will take a while. I want pictures.”
“Sounds good.” A very large, warm calloused hand just landed on her knee, sliding slowly up to her thigh. His pinky finger - probably as long as her pointer - slipped under her skirt. Her breath caught, but no choking occurred. 
“Let’s head out then?” Charles asked, waving for the check. 
Disappointed, Aubrey felt Ollie’s hand leave her skin, feeling suddenly cold. But then he draped a heavy arm around her shoulder when they stood, waiting for the other couple to join them in their trek back to the hotel. 
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin
© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.
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rizsu · 1 year
Text
observations with gojo ノ height differences.
short reader.
he's tall. like freakishly tall. when he comes over, his legs dangle off the bed. his hands are also huge — its size, lengthwise, being almost as long as a litre bottle. he's aware of his proportions; having lived with them all his life, it never dawned on him that he's a towering giant until he met you. you are short. when standing next to him, you only make up half his height. he thinks it's cute— waking up to you in random shorts and a white tshirt that's swallowing you in its depths.
he likes holding hands, you don't. his idea of hand holding consists of firmly caging your entire hand in his, leaving no room for your blood vessels. most times, when he's feeling funny, he'll throw things on the highest shelf just to mess with you. it's cliché, he knows, but it's funny watching you super jump to reach the top of the fridge. it's also top tier comedy seeing you tiptoe to reach at least his chest when you're taking pics together. you know what isn't funny to him? losing you in a crowd. it scares him how easily you blend in. makes him want to buy you those umbrella hats so he can spot you easily.
tall reader.
all his life he walked among others as the tall, lanky fella with an odd hair colour. this, of course, didn't stop the people from thinking he's attractive. within the group of his glazers, he found himself attracted to the woman whose legs make up a third of her body. maybe you're just wearing heels? wrong. that height is nothing short of natural and trust he's intrigued. what's a fine woman like you doing in the men's section? dumb question, he knows it's because the ladies section doesn't have your shoe size. he just needs a reason to flirt.
he's aware that the height difference isn't much. probably just a three-inches difference at most. however, it tickles something in him. without heels, you reach his chin. with heels, you're as tall as he is. he knows you sometimes think of your height as too manly for your gender. for example, there were times you immediately got sad when his shirt didn't travel down your thigh. instead, its hem sat perfectly on your hip. he didn't truly understand why you were sad — in his head he loved the way his clothes fit you. makes it way easier to sneak in his clothing in your closet. he's a simple man to amuse: once you're in his clothes where he can smell his cologne it's gameover.
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firstofficerwiggles · 7 months
Text
A Beskar Valentine
Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader
Rating: G
Word Count: ~2300
Warnings: Just lots of fluff with a little kissing. Also Din being a bit clueless when it comes to romance.
Author’s note: Happy Valentine’s Day, my darlings! I thought you’d all enjoy some fluffy Valentine’s day fun with Din. Whether you love this day or despise it, just know that Din adores you! 
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“I brought you a new rock.”
You turn around from the shelf you were just reorganizing to see your favorite customer, Nevarro’s favorite Mandalorian, Din Djarin. You’re about to thank him, when a loud coo breaks in.
“We brought you a new rock,” Din corrects himself, as his little green baby wants you to know that he was also part of the mission. Not that you think finding a pretty rock for you was the mission, but it’s so nice that Din thinks about you when he’s away.
“Thank you so much, to both of you,” you reply with a smile and a pat on the head for little Grogu, “I’m excited to add it to my collection.”
Din has been bringing you rocks from his travels for a few years now. It started when he was a bounty hunter. Whenever he was on Nevarro, he would stop by your shop, a sort-of general store, and buy different supplies. You didn’t think he’d ever taken much notice of you, he barely even spoke to you, but one day after you gave him his bundle of goods, he placed a shiny red stone in your hand.
“I found this on Mustafar, bounty fell right next to it, I thought you’d like another one for your shelf,” he had told you as he pointed to the display shelf next to the desk where your register was located. 
There was a small pink rock there, one that you’d found on a walk one day. You’d placed it there because it was pretty. Rather bemused, you placed the new red rock next to the pink one. 
“Thank you very much,” you replied, smiling at the mysterious helmeted man. 
He simply nodded and ever since then, he’d shown up from time to time with a new and interesting rock for you. You like to say he’s your friend, even if most of your encounters have just been right here in the shop. There were a few times he asked you to go on a walk with him, which you gladly did. You had hoped those walks might turn into something more, but it seems it wasn’t in the stars. Instead Din has been rather occupied with saving his son as well as the rest of the galaxy from evil, or at least that’s how you like to think of it. 
You look at the new rock he’s placed in your hands; it’s very shiny, a bright grey, almost silver and shaped like a heart. 
“It’s beautiful, Din, I love it,” you tell him, your voice soft. 
You look at your rock shelf, adorned with all the tokens he’s gifted you. You practically melt, out of all the pretty stones he’s brought you, this new one looks the most romantic. You try not to think too much into it, but still, your own heart likes to hope.
“I thought it looked a bit like beskar,” he comments in a thoughtful voice. He tips his helmet at you in what you’ve determined is his ‘thinking expression’.
“It does, a beskar heart, it’s perfect for you,” you reply, finding a special place for it on the shelf, right in the middle where it stands out.
“I thought you’d like it,” he states, “It came from Mandalore.”
“That’s incredible,” you say, touching the rock again, “I heard there was quite a battle there. I’m glad you’re alright, you and the little one. I have to admit I was worried for you when you left last time.”
Not to be too dramatic, but you thought you might never see him again. You figured the fighting would be fierce after seeing the way the Mandalorians fought off the pirates on Navarro. And although you had faith in Din as a fighter, you sort of figured he’d make Mandalore his home.
“You’re sweet to be worried about me,” Din says, “But as you can see, we’re back home no worse for the wear.”
“Home?” you can’t hide the note of hope in your voice.
“Yes, Magistrate Karga granted me a nice track of land, and we have a home there now,” he explains proudly, “I’d like to invite you to come see it, maybe the day after tomorrow?” He suggests. You can’t be sure but he almost sounds a touch nervous as he asks.
“I’d love to come see your new home,” you respond eagerly. 
“Good, we’ll pick you up in the speeder at 5 in the evening,” Din says, knowing exactly when you usually close up the shop.  
With reassurances that you’ll see them soon, you wrap up a few treats for Grogu and Din to enjoy at home and you wave to them as they head off.
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“I think she really liked the rock, buddy,” Din says to Grogu as they walk home. “And soon she’ll get to see the nice home we’ve made. I really hope she likes it.” 
Din has planned his entire home with exactly two people in mind, his magical son, Grogu and you, his sweetheart. He’s been courting you for years now, and it’s about time he made you an official offer of marriage. He’s wanted to ask you to be his riduur for a while, but the timing was always off. But now, he has a home and a new job with the Republic, he knows he can be a good and supportive husband to you.
Grogu is babbling at him, he points towards the front yard of the home as they arrive.
“Yes, buddy, I’m sure she’ll enjoy playing with you and seeing your frog pond too,” Din tells him. He notices that Grogu has already managed to open the package of treats you gave them.
Din laughs, “She knows your favorite foods already, I’d say if either of us has the luck to charm her, you’re our best bet.”
Din spends the next day putting all the finishing touches on the house. He wants it all to look its absolute best for your visit. Grogu has been helping too. He’s drawn several pictures that are now hanging up all around the walls. There might be a couple that were drawn directly on the wall, but Grogu was so proud of them that Din didn’t have the heart to scold him. Instead he dropped a kiss on Grogu’s head and told him,
“You’re quite the artist, son.”
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At 5 on the dot, Din’s speeder pulls up to your door. Grogu is strapped into a baby seat in the backseat, waving at you merrily. Din hops out so that he can help you in, and you’re impressed once again by how much of a gentleman he always is. 
“What’s all this?” he asks as he sees your arms filled with packages.
“Oh a few housewarming gifts,” you say with a smile, “And a present for the baby.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Din replies, sincerely. 
The drive to his land is brief and Din points out various landmarks and sights on the way. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was trying to impress you. When you pull up in front of his house, the sun is just starting to set, turning his home a lovely golden color. You could not have a better introduction to the place. It looks cozy and welcoming, exactly the type of house you wish you could have instead of the cramped apartment above your shop. 
“Oh Din, it’s charming,” you breath out your praise in a happy sigh. 
“I’m pleased you think so,” Din responds, his voice a bit gruffer than usual. He clears his throat, “Let me show you around.”
With a hand at the small of your back, Din guides you around his new house. Grogu toddles ahead pointing out different things and sometimes floating them towards you with a wave of his hand. You know he has powers, but seeing them in action makes you gasp a few times. 
“Everything looks so nice, you’ve both made a lovely home,” you tell them as you walk through the rooms. 
Din insists on showing you every little thing about the house, asking your opinion and seeming genuinely interested in hearing it. 
“And now it’s time for my favorite part, the backyard,” Din says with a small flourish as he throws the back door open and reveals a nice garden that has recently been planted. There are a few hearty flowering plants and a little vegetable and herb garden too. There is also a small stone path leading to the middle where there is a pretty mosaic of different colored rocks with several red colored stones making a heart. There are a couple lounge chairs there too, making it a nice place to sit and enjoy the fresh air.
Grogu tugs at your leg, urging you forward to see all the pretty rocks.
“Patu!” he says, sounding proud and happy, at least from your perspective. 
“It’s lovely, Grogu, very pretty,” you reply encouragingly and the baby babbles more at you.
“He and I want to know if you like your rock garden? We both worked on it together,” Din tells you. 
“What? My rock garden? You- you made this for me?” You are utterly stunned to hear this.
“Yes, we both wanted a special place for you,” Din replies. You can’t see his face of course but you could swear he must be smiling.
“Why? I don’t understand,” you tell him looking perplexed. You can’t fathom why he would make something like this for you at his house.
“Well, you’re my sweetheart, and I know I haven’t made you a formal offer, but after about four years of courting, I’m hoping that someday soon this will be your house too,” Din sounds sweet and hopeful. 
You stare at Din with your mouth opened in pure shock. You don’t have any idea how to respond to that. Your mind is reeling. The word sweetheart keeps repeating in your head on a loop. You blink at him and finally manage to respond,
“I’m sorry, you- you’re courting me? Din, maybe you could have told me you were courting me?” Your voice comes out sounding high-pitched and quite incredulous. 
Din makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like “oops.”
You keep going, your shock making you babble,
“Don’t get me wrong, Din, I’m thrilled that you think of me as your sweetheart and it makes me swoon that all this time you’ve thought of me like that, I’ve always liked you so much and hoped we could be more someday, but I never realized, I just didn’t know.” 
Din steps close to you, his hand reaches out to cup your cheek. The gesture calms you down and you stare into the dark T of his visor, hoping you’re looking into his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I thought it was obvious, that’s why I was always bringing you the rocks and making sure to come see you,” he sounds a bit sheepish, “I’m not the best at romance and I guess I should have made it a lot clearer.”
You let out a soft sigh, “It would have been nice to know my feelings weren’t one-sided all this time.” You tilt your head and look at him with a slightly exasperated smile. 
“But you do have feelings for me,” Din points out, sounding a touch smug.
“I do, you handsome, infuriating man,” you reply with a laugh.
“And I have feelings for you, romantic, affectionate feelings,” he clarifies unnecessarily at this point. He pulls you closer, dipping his head so that the crown of his helmet touches your forehead.
“What am I going to do with you, Din Djarin?” you ask, marveling at this turn of events.
“I think you should kiss me, so that way you really know how I feel,” Din suggests.
As you watch him with wide eyes, Din tips his helmet up just enough to reveal his full lips and his rather scruffy jaw. You gravitate towards him automatically and your lips meet his in a sweet and tender kiss. He holds you close and gently explores your mouth with his, kissing you as if he’s been dreaming of it for ages. Something he confirms when you eventually pull away.
“If only you knew how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Din says. 
“Probably as long as I have,” you tell him, beaming at him and leaning in for one more precious kiss. 
You hug the little guy close and kiss his cheeks. Grogu responds with a happy giggle as he cuddles up to you. He turns to Din, holding out his hand and babbling happily. 
A tug at yours and Din’s legs have you cutting the kiss short as someone is tired of being ignored. Din scoops little Grogu up in his big hand. The baby immediately lunges for you, his little arms thrown open and a wide smile on his face.
“I guess someone else wants kisses too?” you ask with a giggle. 
“Alright, buddy, I’ll ask her,” Din says, patting Grogu’s head. He looks at you, “Well, what do you say? Will you be our sweetheart and come spend as much time as possible here in your rock garden with us?” 
“I’d love nothing more,” you tell him. You look at the garden again, “Who would have thought a rock would lead to all this?”
“I always knew it would,” Din replies. 
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Thank you so much for reading!!!
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