#the others are mentioned but not really in this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 2 days

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.

content warning | no outbreak!joel, f!reader that is mentioned to have hair that can be pushed back but no exact length, descriptions of outfits, lots of w*ed smoking/consuming ed*bles, a quick mention of a burn, joel being a good neighbor, he's still the biggest girl dad, age gap implied but readers isn't specified, joel's not afraid to go for what he wants, most of the interactions happen while they're high so please keep that in mind when reading, lotsa boob worship, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, mentions of joel being sterile, strangers to friends to lovers. this was written over the course of a weekend don't look at me

word count — 8k

The first and only time you see him is when you’re moving in next door, trudging in the moving boxes on your own as he seems to ready up his own truck full of boxes, followed by two younger women who seem to be bickering at him and he bypasses them with a smug smile on his face—he’s older, so you came to your own assumption that it was probably his daughters.

That’s all you know about him.

Outside of the fact he drives a truck, works long hours, and that his name is Joel.

The girl with the begrudging smile and worn out converse called his name while you were throwing away your trash and trying to not seem like the nosey neighbor.

He comes, he goes. The roar of his truck is all you hear and you never really see him outside of an occasional swish of his curtains through your own windows, but occasionally you leave your trash can out by the curb longer than necessary and it magically appears at the beginning of your driveway.

Now, you don’t want to point fingers—but the only ones tucked away are his and your own, leaving the other neighbors to fend for themselves.

It’s a simple gesture, kind.

You want to thank him but you never get the chance.

You’re curious if he’s a night owl—lights staying on even into the early hours of the morning, shadows crossing around his living room that you can see from your bedroom window, tossing and turning most nights as you struggle and struggle to fall asleep.

You’ve learned methods to help, plenty—if you ever remember to charge your vibrator it was usually your first choice, a quick release of some of the built up tension over the day and you could eventually find it easier to fall asleep. But, your tried and true method was weed.

That was it. Sometimes you didn’t even need much—an edible to curb the anxiety that filled you, a puff or two at the pen you had stashed away in your bedside drawer, but most of the time it was occupying your mind with the work of rolling the joint before smoking it out your bedroom window that helped the best.

However, tonight was different.

You toss and turn and fling the blankets away that stick to your skin, the broken ceiling fan doing nothing to quell that muggy heat that was permeating in your house from earlier in the day—it just sat frozen, menacing and taunting at you. You search through the drawer at your bedside for the small tin case covered in stickers of various interests and things you enjoyed, kicking the sliding backdoor with your foot as you traveled through the living room to your kitchen and stepping out onto your back deck.

It’s still hot, but the breeze allows a noticeable difference.

You work quietly, hunched slightly over the railing and using the faint glow of the light hanging beside your backdoor, just finishing up rolling the joint as you bring it to your tongue and the distinct creak from the house next to you grabs your attention—the sliding door mimicking your own.

Your heart races and you don’t know why. It could be one of the girls, still strangers but somehow you find it easier to look that way if it was them—Joel was intimidating, the aura he carried within just a few seconds of a glance.

It is him, unfortunately—and suddenly you feel the need to hide your stash, tossing the tin box in the cheap plastic chair you bought when you first moved in. Tucking yourself away as you light the joint and bring it to your lips.

He’s being surprisingly noisy, chair scuffing the deck as he moves it around and you look at him curiously from across the way, a fence and several feet of grass dividing you both. You can see the mug clutched in his right hand and his left hand filled with a few various things. A phone, for sure—lighting up in his hand before he lays it on the table beside him, lifting a leg over the lounge chair in a straddle-like motion before he sits down.

And he does seem like a smoker, not that you have proof or theory—it was just the vibe, but as he lights the item in his hand and takes a slow drag you quickly realize there's not an ounce of nicotine in sight. It’s clear when he catches your gaze and his brow furrows slightly, noting the similar item tucked between your own fingers and you can’t help but laugh to yourself.

You don’t say a word. Neither does he. But, he does offer a weak smile when you grab the tin box from the chair, nodding in acknowledgement. Your entire body flutters to life for some weird reason that you will absolutely blame on the THC obscuring rational thought.

Thankfully, sleep comes easy after that.

–

But, it doesn’t stay that way.

Most of the time you stay tucked inside, especially on the days and nights when the heat wasn’t as ablaze as usual, but there is usually a day or two out of the week where you find yourself outside—sometimes you lounge, or pace, but it never fails that the moment you step foot outside your backdoor, Joel does too.

Once a week, rarely twice—though it does happen, both of you find yourself in quiet submission as you smoke and enjoy the peace, even with the constant click of crickets and lighting bugs that seem attracted to both of your houses, flying around your backyard in a small swarm.

And you wanted to keep your distance, not wanting to impose on his space but your two months into these unspoken nightly meetings when your cheap lighter finally decides to shit itself, offering nothing but dull sparks against your overworked thumb, trying and failing to light the end of the joint.

Joel had been watching, an amused smile growing on his face as you cursed and tossed the lighter into your yard out of frustration—you’d grab it later, whatever. Eventually you sigh, giving up on it for the night and turning to pack away your stuff before Joel is calling over to you from his side of the fence, heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of his voice.

“I got a light,” He offers, “if you’re interested?”

It’s definitely a question. A proposition. An offering.

You scratch at your brow and hesitate for a millisecond, not giving yourself enough time to debate your answer before you’re mumbling “Fuck it,” and taking the path down the steps and to the gate that separated your yards, watching as he stepped toward you all in the same breath, feeling so much more intimidating this close—the smell of him, musky and sweet. His hair was wet, too.

He took a shower, got dressed, and immediately decided to step back out into the humid heat of Texas summer.

You pluck the lighter from his grip with a soft tug, flicking open the top. It was a good lighter, not the crappy three-pack you bought at the gas station down the road—it was chrome, engraved with a JM, and soft to the touch. You admire it for half a second before you attempt to light the end of your joint, still tucked between your lips.

But, as fate would have it, you make a fool of yourself. It wasn’t that you couldn’t get it lit, but that the wind was being your worst enemy in a situation where you just wanted to smoke the goddamn joint and go to bed.

Joel puffs at the joint between his lips and breathes out the smoke through his nose before he huffs out a low laugh and nods in your direction, reaching his arms over the fence and beckoning with his fingers for you to hand the lighter back over. You nearly go cross-eyed as his hands come toward your face—much larger than your own and far better at keeping the flame strong, he peeks around his cupped palm and waits for the end to turn a bright orange before he pulls away and you eagerly pull the smoke into your lungs.

“Thank you,” You tell him, rubbing your bare feet into the grass beneath you, patchy and poorly cut from your own mow job, but you were working the best with what you had—even if it was an ancient lawn mower you snagged at a garage sale that only worked half of the time.

You didn’t like to ask for help, hated it. But, here you were, taking help from a stranger.

Well, neighbor.

It didn’t feel fair to call him a stranger anymore, even if you’ve only spoken a little under ten words to him.

“No problem, sugar,” Joel responds and your cheeks burn with heat, that distinct nervousness spreading throughout your body that couldn’t be mistaken with anything else, “curious, though—you ain’t ever thought about investin' in a good lighter?”

You shrug, tapping away the ash gently with your fingertip and taking another puff, “Why? My neighbor’s got a perfectly good one himself?”

Joel raises his brows in unison and smiles slightly, he laughs. It’s more of a lazy chuckle.

“I… have more. I just lose them a lot. Besides, they’re only like ten bucks a pack.”

You’re waiting for him to cut the conversation short and walk back to his chair, but he finds himself leaning, arms tucked and crossed over the fence, oblivious to how daunting this felt to you—the man you’ve been so helplessly curious about for months suddenly standing in front of you and interested, unbothered…not at all what you expected from him.

“Thanks for constantly moving my trash bins,” You tell him randomly, blowing the smoke out through your lips as you tilt your chin up, “I always forget.”

Joel makes a face, wordlessly offering an “I know,” with his eyes and you roll yours in return, following it with a laugh as you pop a hip out slightly, leaning most of your weight onto one leg and crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly remembering how bare you were under your thin top, assuming you’ve probably already given him quite the show already.

Though, Joel seems like the type of man to be nice enough not to point it out.

You perk up suddenly, asking the first thing that comes to mind.

"Can I ask a question?"

Joel nods.

“What’s the JM stand for? On your lighter.”

“Sweetheart,” The laugh shakes his entire chest, “come on now.”

From sugar to sweetheart—you were clearly making quite the impression on him.

When you don’t respond he answers your question.

“Joel. Miller. I figured that was obvious,” He says, stubbing out the end of his joint into the wood on his side of the fence.

“Oh.”

“It’s on the mailbox.”

Curious, you leave him for a brief moment to slip through the side gate of your yard and….yeah, sure enough.

“I swear I’m not always like this,” You tell him as you make your way back over, forcing away the smile that was creeping its way onto your face.

“Too bad,” He responds, carding fingers through his still slightly damp hair before running his open palm over his beard, scratching at his chin, “s’pretty entertaining.”

“O-kay,” You answer, sarcasm smothering your tone, “I think it’s my bedtime, Joel Miller.”

“Goodnight then,” He bows his head slightly, “neighbor.”

The tone of it makes you snort with a soft laugh, flipping him off as you depart.

Suddenly, Joel Miller doesn’t seem all that scary.

–

The next week is suspiciously quiet, to your surprise. You’ve opted out of keeping yourself inside now that you had a friend to keep you company, but when he doesn’t show up after a few minutes, you can’t explain why you feel disappointed.

Next week is the same, his house suspiciously dark.

You can’t pass judgment—he could be busy, tired, or there could be no reason at all.

But, the need in you is there—for what, you’re not even sure.

By the third week you’re ready with a peace offering, a truce.

That night his lights are on and he’s even moving around, somewhere in his kitchen you’re assuming, but instead of sneaking out into the backyard you’re crossing over your front lawn and into his, seemingly fresh mowed and smelling of wet grass, having been under mostly rain showers all night and you knock at his door.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the door opens and you smile at the sight of him, sleep pants hanging low on his hips and his shirt slightly raised by his stomach. He looks exhausted, eyes puffy with sleep as he rubs at them with his knuckles, but he doesn’t look displeased at the sight of you—in fact, he almost smiles in response.

One rolled joint in your left hand, a second in your right. It’s a wordless gesture that makes Joel scoff in amusement and nod you inside of his home. His home. That you’ve never seen until now. You were in his house and it was the most casual thing in the world. You don’t linger for long, following him toward the sliding door to his backyard but the place feels…homey. Lived in. So much unlike your own and disorganized in a way that showed years of age and memories, pictures scattered along the walls and years of personal crafts that you couldn’t examine for as long as you wished.

“Sorry I disappeared,” He acknowledges the unasked question, even though it lingered on your tongue, “—got a huge job at work, getting the site ready has been a pain in my ass.”

You share the lounge chair, taking a seat against the part of the chair that was propped up while Joel opts for the end, giving you a comfortable amount of space to stretch out if you wanted but also, and maybe instinctively, trying not to pressure you into feeling like you had to share space with him.

“Can I ask?”

Like a goddamn broken record, Joel chuckles at that. Full and genuine as he lights the end of the joint and wordlessly helps you, the same cupping motion of his hands that you welcome this time, almost eagerly.

“Ya gotta stop askin’ that,” Joel says, “especially when you’re just gonna ask anyways.”

Well.

“I’m a carpenter. Long hours, got a bad sleep schedule ‘cause of it. Pays good, though.”

“Oh, that’s…”

“Not interesting at all, I know.”

“No—no, I mean. I don’t know what I was expecting you to say. That sounds…fun?”

“If you think busted knuckles and an achy back is fun—but I’m old, can’t really escape that.”

You laugh under your breath and inhale the joint between your lips, blowing it out as you speak.

“You are not old, Joel. Come on.”

“I’ve got two fully grown daughters in college and a 401k callin’ my name in about a decade.”

“So, what? Fifty five? Fifty six? You can do better than that.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

You shrug at him, a satisfied smirk stretching over your face.

It’s a back and forth game you play for a while—nights spent at his house where you bicker back and forth, offering snacks and occasionally getting the royal treatment of dinner or a late-night breakfast if Joel was feeling too antsy to sleep.

He never flirts, really. Despite how you don’t cover up around him for his own sake, always showing up in your sleep clothes that barely allowed for any modesty or the summer clothes that clung to your body and hugged your curves, allowing his eyes to trace and outline all over your figure as much as he wanted to—and sometimes he did, catching his gaze on you for a brief moment before it fades.

But, the first crack in his hard facade comes over a late night meal of pancakes and bacon, grabbing the blueberries from his fridge as he fries the meat on the stove, his elbow bumping the fridge door and knocking the small plastic box of blueberries out of your hand and to the floor, a surprised yelp coming from your throat as you scramble to catch them all.

“Shit, shit—I’m sorry, that was my fault.” You apologize, picking at the blueberries that didn’t make it, shoveling them into your hand and Joel leans down slowly, kneeling as he scoops the tainted blueberries into his own hand and dumps them in the trash.

“My bad, baby—that was on me,” It flows off his tongue with ease and if he realizes he’s said it, he doesn’t acknowledge it, “damn grease popped at me—go on, sit down. I’ll clean the rest up and we can use up what’s left.”

You both enjoy your meal without a blip, not daring to address the slip-up—he peppers you with sugars and sweethearts and the occasional honey when you get a little too combative over a topic, but never baby.

The second time is less surprising and more of a comfort, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Again, struggling with his lighter—this time your hand is holding one of those sparklers you haven’t touched since you were a child—leftovers from the bunch that Sarah and Ellie, his two daughters had brought home over the holiday. You never came over, despite his insisting invitation and running into his brother Tommy on the way home the night prior to the Fourth of July. He'd insisted too.

It just won’t light—and Joel had made the mistake of getting a few of them wet when he’d cleaned off his deck that night and suddenly you’re wondering it’s just a dud.

You hover the flame, mind drifting as you watch the flame grow and you don’t realize you’re burning yourself until Joel is pulling the items from your hands, dropping you back down into reality as you feel the sting, the sudden burn to your thumb as Joel says something that you don’t quite hear at first.

“Sweetheart, you gotta pay attention—“

You look up at him meekly and he pulls you inside with a nod of his, turning on the cold water and pulling your hand under the stream.

“Where’d you go?”

You raise your eyebrows in question, the lingering high drifting off from earlier in the night.

“Oh—just, kinda spaced out, I guess?”

Joel rubs his thumb over yours gingerly and turns off the water, grabbing you a clean washcloth stuffed with a couple pieces of ice to soothe the burn for the time being.

“Baby, you really gotta be more careful.”

Your head snaps over to him as he threw a damp paper towel into the trash and watches the sudden realization cross your face—looking for uneasiness, fear, worry; but in an instant, your body relaxes and you shake your head.

“I promise. It won’t happen again.”

You see the way his lips part slightly, almost as if he’s gearing to add a, “Me too,” for a different reason, but it never comes.

Near the end of summer, you find yourself there again.

But, things feel different.

“So, I’ve got a surprise.”

Joel leans up at your words, arm resting over his knees as you plop the bag down on the table beside the chair—Joel looks slightly worried, eyes flicking toward you and back at the bag.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried edibles.”

“It’s not really my thing, sugar—”

“Joel, you’ve been smoking longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Now, you know that don’t mean a damn thing.”

You shake your head in fake dismay, slipping your hand into the bag to grab a few pieces.

One for him…a couple for you.

“Aren’t those supposed to be pretty strong?”

You shrug, “I think it depends. Person to person. I’ve never tried these before, but I’ve never had a bad trip, so…”

Joel’s eyes linger, finger poking at the small, cube gummy in your hand like a child discovering a new toy.

“Hey, we’re doing this together,” You offer as a half-assed comfort, “so if it sucks, it’ll suck for both of us.”

Joel doesn’t seem to need much convincing, though. He plucks the gummy from your palm and places it on his tongue, watching as you do the same and you chew, settling back on your palms at the end of the chair, feet outstretched and crossed in front of you as you stare up at the sky.

It was a Waxing Gibbous moon, not quite full but nearly there—it hovered over Joel’s house, just enough light to illuminate the space between you two. And you wait in comfortable silence aside from the low hum of music playing inside Joel’s house, dark inside now that he had turned off all the lights as you had followed him outside.

He always spent more time out here with you than he intended nowadays.

By a half hour, you find the idle conversation quickly divulges into things more obscure, your gaze lingering on the sky longer than you realize and Joel speaks to you softly, your heart pounding slowly in your ears.

“It ain’t going nowhere.”

You turn to him slightly, blinking a few times before you realize what he’s referring to.

“Oh. Well, obviously. It’s just pretty. I could stare at it all night.”

“Can’t blame you,” Joel responds, but his eyes are nowhere near the sky.

Oblivious, your gaze lingers upwards still, leaning back so far on your hands you feel yourself slip and yelp, only caught by Joel’s hands nearly a second short of a serious head injury.

“Come here,” Joel beckons, fingers wrapping around your bicep as he pulls you forward until your back is against his chest and he allows you to lean into him, feeling him clear his throat behind you as he keeps his hands a respectable distance despite how easily he’d move you into this position to begin with.

Commendable? Sure. Frustrating? Absolutely.

If you couldn’t feel the hard, solid line of his body at your backside it wouldn’t bother you so much. And the heat of his body, scolding to the touch like a furnace. He ran hot, that much you already knew just by a few faint touches before but this—it overwhelms your senses.

You try to distract yourself, noticing the carved out wooden statue of a cowboy riding a horse while it was rearing back, you squint your eyes before perking up with a sudden question.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Get what?”

You giggle slightly, tapping at his arm to grab his attention before you point in the direction of the statue placed by the stairs, “That thing.”

“Oh, that—I…made it.” He looks away with a sudden embarrassment as you quickly twist your head up to look at him in complete and utter shock—he scrunches his face up and dares to take a peek at you from his peripheral and his face heats up when he sees you looking so rapt.

“Joel, that is insanely fucking good.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” You mock his tone, “how long did that take to make?”

Joel tries to think—it’s been years now. Sarah was barely out of grade school and he had just adopted Ellie, it was all a blur anymore with both of the girls in college now.

“A month, on and off between jobs. It’s just a piece of junk, really.”

“Joel, shut up.”

Joel can’t hold back the even bigger laugh that escapes him at your bluntness.

“It’s just a hobby.”

“A hobby you seem to be really fuckin’ good at.”

Joel shrugs and you decide to leave it be, relaxing back into his chest more comfortably, though his arm lingers more closely to your body, fingertips resting against your bicep that slowly start to move on their own, whether by Joel’s own conscious movements or just by nature of seeking touch. It’s a gentle trace, it tickles and you shrug your arm slightly to which he responds with a gentle squeeze.

By the hour mark you find that Joel hates when you ask about his statues or some of the homemade structures in his backyard—littered throughout along with an old playhouse that you can only assume belonged to his daughters, much outgrown and covered in vines and weeds, intertwined through cracks in the wood.

He hates it so much he actually tries to distract you with something else. Anything.

Unfortunately, nothing really works. So, he changes gears completely.

“What’s with the sundress tonight?” Joel asks suddenly, the playful lilt to his voice hidden behind a sudden need for authority over the situation. “Gettin’ all dolled up in the middle of the night.”

“It’s new,” You say with an eagerness, rubbing your finger over the silk fabric of the dress, “do you like it?”

“You really askin’ my opinion?”

Of course. I bought it for you.

“Do you have one?” You say instead.

“It’s nice,” He runs his pointer finger and thumb over the strap on your left shoulder that slips down, lingering against your skin as his palm covers the expanse of it.

His touch feels far away but so intense, head swirling with thoughts you can’t follow—there’s a primal need there, though. And you can’t tell if he feels it too. If it’s just the weed in your system or if it’s weeks and weeks of built up tension boiling over the edge.

This is the closest Joel has allowed you to be—he’s relaxed, his barriers are down and the hand lingering on your elbow is careful but explorative, his fingers trailing to the middle of your chest, flipping the small silver necklace around your neck under his fingertips, feeling so delicate. More importantly, he feels your heart, stretching the palm out wide and over your skin.

“Y‘alright?”

You nod and shuffle your feet, planting them on the end of the chair as you pull your knees up, the dress falling just at the apex of your thighs, barely allowing any modesty and if you spread your thighs even a half inch—

Joel breaks his eyes away, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest despite your rapidly beating heart.

“That heart of yours is racin’, sugar. Are you sure?”

Again, you nod. But, the subtle shift against him forces his fingers lower as you adjust yourself higher, ass pressed right against his groin and it does no favor for Joel, who’s fingers dip just below the fabric of your dress in the process, grazing down the center of your chest.

“You nervous or something?”

Nervous, no. Joel didn’t make you nervous anymore. The heat between your legs told you otherwise, and the need for touch was impossible to ignore and maybe just for a moment—just a second, you could let him. It would solve this ridiculous ache that had grown between your legs.

Joel seems so in tune with you and he sees the way your eyes are locked on his hand, unmoving but the half of his fingers tucked under the top of your dress.

“You don’t make me nervous, Joel.”

That wasn’t necessarily the question—and suddenly, you realize your misstep, looking up at him suddenly to catch the intense look on his face, almost like he was anticipating your gaze. His bottom lip is slightly parted from his top, face flush from the summer heat but his eyes are dark, follow the path of your face until it lands on his hand and then he speaks.

“What is it then?”

The way you press your thighs together at the sound of his voice, low and heated, spoken behind a gaze that made you feel small but admired.

Touch me. Make it better.

You don’t say it, it’s only a thought.

But, Joel is a mind reader. He never leaves your sight, but his hand moves on its own accord and squeezes your breast gently. His rough and calloused palm is a stark contrast over soft skin and if you would have made any sign of not wanting this, he would’ve pulled away.

Instead, your chest cants under his touch and your head nods without an answer to his question, because he already knew.

“Lemme see ‘em, sweetheart,” It takes little effort to pull the straps down your shoulders, his other hand pushing the fabric just below your breasts, allowing them free and Joel makes a soft, low noise behind you as he covers your chest with both hands, thumbs grazing over your nipples as they pebble under his touch, “that feel better?”

Not good. Not alright. Better—was he helping you? Was he soothing that ache he’d created?

“Y-Yeah, yes.”

He’s just as curious, squeezing the flesh in hands and occasionally letting his finger trace down your abdomen as your dress shifts and shifts until it’s barely a means to keeping your modesty over your lap, hands pressed down at the space beside Joel’s hips as you push yourself up until your head is nearly level with his, his hands squeezing your tits together as you sigh. He hooks his chin over you shoulder and watches, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back.

“You need more?” He asks, “Tell me, baby—I’m right here.”

The baby rings through your head like a warning bell.

Once was an accident, twice a coincidence, three times…

Stop it. Stop it now and you won’t have to face the awkwardness after your high wore off and you both had a night to sleep and think and regret—but you find yourself nodding anyway.

Why was Joel any different from a random hookup? Other than being your neighbor, slowly coming to what you consider to be a friend, crumbling apart before you as he hikes your dress up over your hips and grips it tight.

You nod to his question.

“Take those off,” He speaks over your shoulder and you don’t need persuading, fingers hooking into the underwear clinging to your hips and down, over your ankles as you kick them away and almost instantly Joel’s hands are on your knees, spreading you wide, his palms squeezing at the inside of your thigh, “shit, look at that—“

He dips a finger down the center of your pussy, through the slick pool of accumulated pleasure and pulls away, shiny and glistening against his fingertips as he breathes against the shell of your ear, “All that just from me touchin’ you?”

You could answer—keep dragging out this game of cat and mouse that had started between you but instead you reach for his hand, placing it against your cunt as he cups it with his palm, dragging the two middle most fingers up and down the seam, circling over your clit briefly before they’re plunging inside of you with ease, aided by just how wet you were—your pussy throbs around his fingers.

Words are few and far between outside of the soft, mewling noises you make into the side of his face as your arm comes up and wraps around the back of his neck, yanking at the short hair at his nape and dragging your mouth along his cheek as you breath out in short huffs, his other hand coming down to circle at your clit with no preamble—straight for the kill and eager without saying it.

His grip is heavy, forceful as his fingers pump in and out of you pussy with little care, the soft squelch of your arousal around his fingers forcing the heat to climb to your face and you feel his jeans rutting into the backside, desperate for relief just as much as you but too selfless to speak up about it.

And you feel the crest in your chest, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy flutters around his fingers, a shout that is quickly muffled by Joel’s hand as it covers your mouth, the fingers still buried inside of you and working you through the aftershocks as he shushes you gently. Your body feels like it’s vibrating, legs shaking slightly as he removes his fingers and squeezes tenderly at the inside of your thigh, feeling the dampness from his fingers spread over your skin before they’re climbing their way up your body, along your skin until he’s bringing them to his mouth silently and cleaning them up like he’d made a mess of his meal, your eyes widen at the sight and you feel overtaken, flooded with desire that you can’t sit and suffer with any longer.

“Knew I was right in callin’ you sugar,” He teases, catching your face in between his fingers as you turn to kneel between his legs, “so damn sweet.”

His fingers tap at his thighs, rough denim under his fingertips to match his overworked, weathered hands and you can’t help but admire, knowing they had been buried inside of you a few moments ago and you bow your head, popping the button of Joel’s jeans as he casually reaches for your hips, kneading the muscle of your thighs as he watches, helping you situate his jeans far enough down his own thighs that you can slip your hands past his boxers, straining against the weight of his cock, hard and aching as it reached up toward his stomach.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to,” He tells you, but you scoff slightly in amusement, not wanting to know how frazzled you look, half-lidded and bloodshot eyes under the moonlight, bare aside from the newly bought dress at your waist and Joel is most definitely still staring at your tits, his eyes dragging up to your face a few seconds too late, “I’m guessin’ we should of talked through this first but I just wanted to make you feel good—”

“You think I feel obligated?” Your eyebrow raises up slightly before you’re pulling his boxer down just enough that his cock springs out, bobbing away from his stomach slightly and you only allow yourself half a second to react.

He’s big, from root to tip you know it is the biggest you’ve ever had and you’re waiting for the cocky remark, the begging for compliments and thoughts that you hear so often during these halfway thought out hook-ups but this wasn’t that. It was weeks of build up, the tension line snapping under the weight of your unspoken desire for each other.

“Joel—”

“Don’t go boostin’ my ego,” He chuckles, “—not you, baby.”

You laugh softly and dip your head, feeling his hand curve over and through your hair, down your neck before it settles against the middle of your back and he brushes the stray hair from your face, allows his finger to rest behind your ear as you tilt your head and lick a long stripe up his cock, flicking your eyes up briefly to catch him staring, mouth closed and unnaturally stoic for a moment, like he’s holding his breath.

“Show me,” You plead with him, “whaddya like?”

You move down slightly to roll your tongue along his balls, the weight of it in your mouth as you suckle and feel his fingertips scrape gently along your skin, allowing a few moments of your own exploration before he’s wrapping his hand around his shaft and using the other to grip your chin and rubbing the tip against your half-open mouth, forcing a dribble of spit between your lips and letting it trail down the tip before he feeds his cock into your mouth, tongue spreading flat over the underside and keeping him in your eye-line before it’s nearly impossible, feeling him guide you down until his cock nudges the back of your throat with a slight sting, eyes watering.

“Look at that,” His voice is low, gruff as it rumbles in his chest, “makin’ it all fit in that pretty little moutha’ yours.”

You quickly realize that Joel enjoys watching you feel consumed by him, choking on his cock as your head bobs up and down with fervor, a gentle guiding hand against the back of your head as you breathe through your nose, feeling him nudge the back of your throat over and over and over until you find yourself fighting for air and oblivious to the symphony of curses Joel was spewing above you as his neck was tight, straining as he tipped his own head back against the chair.

And he looks too fucking good to pass up on. You rise, pulling at the collar of his shirt to grab his attention and his eyes open wide, his pupils blown out and dilated as he watches you move, biting at your bottom lip as you shuffled your legs over his hips to straddle him.

“Can you fuck me?”

“Can I—sweetheart, you sure?”

You give him a look of flippant disregard, too impatient to pace through the steps of sureness. But, Joel is focused suddenly, pulling your attention to him as his palm finds your face, cradling your cheek and rubbing his thumb over the shape of your lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” He tells you.

“Yes, Joel.” You answer him impatiently, “I just—I mean I don’t have anything, but…”

“You ain’t gotta worry about that,” Joel chuckles, “been out of commission for a while, sugar.”

You can’t help to release the giggle that bubbles in your chest at that.

He’d had kids, a family at some point—but that wasn’t his life now. He was a renewed bachelor, experiencing all the things he’d put on the back-burner to be a good and proper father. While this hadn’t been at the top of his list, or even anywhere on it really, you can see the happy satisfaction on his face with how comfortable he’s grown in the time you’ve gotten to know one another.

“Can’t tell,” You comment slyly as you lift up on your knees, allowing Joel to shift his jeans further down until they’re bunched sloppily at his ankles.

Joel rolls his eyes fondly, “Go on, baby.”

He watches, eyes following your hand as you grip his cock at the base, rubbing it along the center of your cunt, gliding through messy arousal and finding some excitement in the way he squeezes at your thighs a little too hard, fingers curling around the back of your knee as the head of his cock catches against your clit, again, again, barely allowing him to press inside of you until finally, a few harsh pleas balancing on his tongue that quickly dissipate as you sink down onto him inch by suffocating inch.

You breathe out slowly, watching Joel as he watches you, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock as it settles inside of you, only allowing the slow, gentle rock of your hips as you adjust.

His stomach flexes under your touch, fisting your hands into his shirt and lifting it out of the way before Joel gets the hint and strips himself completely, kicking his jeans off weakly as you sigh, squeezing gently as his shoulders and feeling his hands grip at your backside, into the soft flesh of your cheeks and you strip the wrinkled fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere behind Joel’s head as you fingers grip along the edge the bar of the chair above his head, lifting your hips in time with his movements as he keeps a firm hand on you, allowing soft puffs of groans to fall from his lips as your tits bounce with the frantic movement and Joel leans forward, capturing the side of your breast between his teeth, a gentle bite that causes you to squeak.

It’s quickly soothed by his tongue before he flicks it over your nipple, circling the peaked and pebbled nub before he’s sucking it between his teeth, eyes locking on yours from the depraved angle it allows you, still able to spot the few shining grays of his hair in this light. You card your fingers through his hair and arch your chest into his mouth, “J-Joel, maybe we should move this inside.”

He shakes his head, mouth still stuffed full with you as you moan out loudly when he smacks your ass in one gentle but solid swing and you want to blame his boldness on the dwindling drug in your system, but somehow you come to the conclusion that it was just Joel, unbridled and wanting. Of you.

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” Joel disagrees as he pulls back, “no one gives a damn ‘round here, anyways.”

“Says you,” You laugh weakly, whimpering softly as he snaps his hips into you with sudden force, his hand reaching for the back of your neck to urge you forward, forgoing your body for your lips and it’s more intense than anything else going on around you—his cock stuffed inside of you, the fingers on your skin, it didn’t matter for that brief second of a first touch, kissing you sloppily as you moan into each other’s shared space.

“Well, I do—got this one neighbor,” He jokes, “nosey as shit but damn is she a good fuckin’ time.”

You gasp as he pulls you close, free arm wrapping around your back as he slips his tongue past your lips, using the opportunity as your lips part to devour you in an instant and you pull at the stands of his hair in turn, kissing him back with a harsh pressure that begs for more.

“M’not nosey,” You defend lamely, “just—fuck, curious, ya know?”

“Thank god for that,” Joel sighs, and your pussy flutters before squeezing around him, “oh, fuck baby—do that... do that again.”

You do, teasingly, watching as Joel curses under his breath and leans back, watching you move against him without shame, a hand pressing against your stomach to guide you to lean back slightly, “Look at that, sweetheart—makin’ a goddamn mess on me.”

The short, coarse hair at his groin is wet and sure enough, covered in the messy slick of you and mixed with the thin sheen of sweat that had covered both of your bodies in this sticky heat.

“You like the idea of gettin’ high and letting me fuck you?” Joel questions amongst the pound of your heart in your ears, the heat of his gaze quickly driving you toward the edge again. He chuckles, “Dirty—dirty girl. Was that what you’ve been plannin’ since the beginning?”

“Would’ve let you fuck me either way,” You admit, only a half-truth. You weren’t sure if you’d ever pluck up the courage had Joel not made the first move, but you’re damn sure glad he did anyways, “and with a cock like that, god—”

“Easy,” Joel warns, “givin’ me a complex the way you were looking at it.”

“It’s big, Joel.” You admit, pushing the stray hair that had fallen down over his forehead away and back into this messily quaffed hair, “You like knowing I can barely fit it all in my mouth, don’t—don’t act coy about it.”

He’s not—he’d been more than willing to allow you to choke on the girth of him until you begged for mercy, but given his normally gentle nature with you, he wasn’t going to take it that far.

Your brow drags up in a pinch, moaning as his thumb presses against your clit and circles, presses down gently, just the right amount of everything to drive you to near insanity. Your thighs squeeze against his own where he has you spread out, hands balled up into fists that punch gently at his chest.

“You’re right there, baby—gotcha, I gotcha.” He murmurs, watching you intently as you grip at the arm wrapped around your back to keep you upright, fingers digging into his bicep as you tip over the edge, legs shaking through the second orgasm he’s given you that night, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start to see the flurry of stars in your darkened vision.

Your limbs give out shortly after, falling against his chest as he snaps his hips, just near the edge himself as he groans, grunts, breathing hotly into the curve of your neck and you rub at the little spot behind his ear that makes him chuckle, “Want it all inside,” You tell him through a cloud haze of need and pure desire, “can you do that, Joel?”

“Fill you up, sugar?” He asks, sounding a little taken aback, “If that’s—if that’s somethin’ you’re comfortable with.”

You nod eagerly and he loosens the reins completely, lifting one of your legs until you can plant a foot near his hip and he pounds into you, pulling back when he feels the impending orgasm grow in his gut, hot and intense. He watches as he comes inside of you with a few slow snaps of his hips.

“Shit,” He curses after a drawn-out silence, helping you move off of him and into a more comfortable position between his legs as he grabs lazily for his shirt, cleaning up the mess of your wet arousal against his skin and letting the spoiled shirt rest over his groin for modesty, breathing in slow, full breaths.

It’s been too long for him and he knows it.

Joel reaches for the dress that caught on the edge of the chair by his head and hands it over, watching as you slipped it over your head, legs still spread out over his own and he can’t help but draw his eyes to the sight of his come dripping out between your legs and he grins subtly, motioning you forward with a tired finger that you look at curiously before scooting forward an inch, thinking he may wipe something of your face, arrange a piece of hair back into place, but instead he’s slipping his ring finger inside of you and it forces a surprised gasp from your chest.

You laugh airily and swat his hand away, “Stop that,” You tell him.

“Just makin’ sure you don’t waste any of it, sweetheart.”

You snort, flipping him off half-heartedly as you reach for your underwear, standing up to pull it back up your hips and under your dress, swaying slightly on your feet after having been sat for so long.

You sigh, pushing your hair back with your hands, suddenly feeling sticky and gross in the aftermath and Joel seems to notice, slowly redressing himself as he stands.

“Why don’t you shower?” Joel suggests, leaving his jeans unbutton but pulled back up his hips. Shirt balled up in his hand.

You look geared to say no, but Joel sweetens the deal.

He looks at his watch, nearing two in the morning.

“I’ll make us an early breakfast,” He offers, shrugging with a lazy smile, “I mean—early early, because I know you’re probably starvin’. I know I am.”

“Only if you’ll make the blueberry pancakes.”

Of course that was the ultimatum.

“Deal, sugar—go get your ass in the shower.” He nods toward the house and you laugh, running away from the hand that pushes at your back.

So, maybe Joel wasn’t the scary neighbor you assumed him to be. But, you couldn’t deny the bursting affection that was growing in your chest for him and that was even more terrifying.

And when he serves up the pancakes to you, hair damp and dripping down your back and onto the shirt he’d lent you, a small square of pancake balanced on a fork that he feeds into your mouth, you feel it.

He's still shirtless, barefoot against his kitchen floor.

“We can—we can do this again, right?”

Joel smiles, looking down at the plate as he cuts off another piece.

“I’ve been waitin’ an entire summer to get the courage to do that, or even ask you on a proper date—we can do whatever you want, sugar.”

“Dates are overrated,” You shrug, “I like this better.”

“Good,” Joel grins, “least now I can mow that lawn of yours without feelin’ bad for asking.”

“Excuse you—I do just fine on my own,” You gasp with mock offense.

You’re lying—that mower was a piece of shit and Joel could see the way your face quickly melts into embarrassment, laughing quietly behind his fist.

“I like helpin’ out,” He tells you with a shrug, beginning to list off a few things he could help work on around your house, eyes drifting off as he went through the mental list, oblivious to the sudden closeness as you leaned over the counter and capture his lips, closed mouth with both of your cheeks puffed full of pancakes.

“You ramble when you’re high,” You tease him, “it’s adorable.”

Joel grimaces at the word but relents when he sees you smile, wide and spreading out across your entire face, snatching the fork from his hand while he’s distracted.

“So, same time next week?”

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Joel doesn’t care that you show up empty-handed the following week.

And frankly, neither do you.

divider creds: @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pasca #pedro pascal characters #my writing #um i have no reason other than pure horknee-ness

678 notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 1 day

Text

ch.1: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one

read until the end for an author's note.

if there was one thing you hated more than the crime-filled streets of gotham, it would be empty promises.

when was the last time they attended your birthday? or your school ceremonies? or any special event that meant for you to be the center of attention?

plot twist, there was no last time, or a time before that or any day that they were there for you.

not your eldest brother, dick, not your dead brother, jason, of course tim wouldn't be there for you, damian's absence is a given, not even your sisters would come, and most especially not your father, bruce wayne.

you never wrote wayne as your last name. in every test, it would always be your mother's last name. in every document that you had to fill, you would violently scratch in the name of your father, wishing it wasn't required at all so you wouldn't have to hang your head in shame everytime someone looks at you incredulously for having the bruce wayne as your father but never once appearing to be with you.

you can't recall a time you had called him your dad, or even considered him as one.

if you could count the times you have seen him in person, it wouldn't even fill ten fingers. even interviewers and paparazzi have more luck in coming across him than you would, his child.

it sucks, really, how despite having nearly sharing the same age as tim, you never once saw him outside of his room. you thought you would've been the closest to him, but the most you have seen him was when you were watching the news with the "new" robin popping up, or worse; when bruce would be seen guiding tim through the paparazzi and not you. alfred had to drag you away from the tv that day because you were already suffering through a panic attack just seeing those two act so close; ripping your hair out just from watching the news wasn't a good way to cope.

you remember being so jealous of him, of how bruce would always spend time with him and not you. it made you wonder, were you special enough? tim is so brilliant, you could admit. and you were, too, having enough comprehensibility as a child to find out they were vigilantes a year or two after living in the manor— but you weren't good enough like tim. you weren't cut out to be like a detective or a fighter.

it was no wonder why bruce chose them over you.

it came to you in the form of talking to tim that had you discovering that no one ever mentions your name inside the house, proving it to be true when tim had hesitated calling your name and even stuttered through pronouncing it. and then he left after finding you were of no use to help him. alfred had to stifle your sobbing after tim left the room, allowing you to cry on his chest whilst you sat beside him.

(name) wayne was so, so lonely.

you would've accepted their absence long ago, but you were a stupid child who needed care and reassurance because your mother left you for good at the age of five. you were too naive into thinking you would receive the same love from your family just like the other kids in elementary would. you were a child who expected too highly of your father, thinking that he would pick you up from school with that picture perfect photographed smile of his and kiss your forehead and tell you that you did a great job at school today.

it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least.

it was long ago that you stopped praying for your family to attend at least one of your birthdays.

it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.

too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to. knowing nobody would celebrate birthdays with you, save for alfred, it was expected that you started to prefer cupcakes.

because then you wouldn't be scolded for making such a mess.

you never cooked family meals after the incident where nobody came and to not waste food, you had to bring in large containers to bring to school so you could celebrate your birthday there.

it was there that you find more solace in your small group of friends compared to the desolate rooms of the mansion. your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply). you only smiled weakly and hopelessly, sneaking into your room before the family dinner.

it was alfred again who bought you leftovers and sat on your bed for an hour to encourage you that there's still more christmas's to go.

you never believed what he said. not anymore.

there was a period of time where you hated them more than anything, blamed them for everything and became more rebellious, purposely failing tests, fighting your classmates and disrespecting teachers in hopes that for once your father would bat an eye on you. that only resulted in you being taken out of the school and being transferred into another, for a behavioral reform is what alfred stated to you when you annoyed him for answers.

damian started to bully you a bit more harder after that incident, calling you immature and childish, a weakling, an attention seeker. how someone at your age should've known better. you were convinced that he was relishing in the heartbroken glare you gave him, ignoring the way his eyes widened momentarily at your reaction before sneering and walking away.

alfred gently scolded you, but you were too choked up and instead you almost tripped running inside your bedroom, locking yourself in for what seems like hours.

you don't want to remember the immense breakdown you had that evening too, screaming on your blankets and destroying your things and hurting yourself because... because you had lost your old friends for nothing! your caring teachers, your academic progress, everything! every single thing for an ounce of attention! because he didn't have enough energy to come with you to the guidance counselor and he only had you transfer out so you wouldn't ruin the wayne's reputation!

you hate him, you hate bruce fucking wayne so much and you hate clinging onto their empty promises and sorry's to make it up for you. you hate how their promises were never even said directly to you, you hate how alfred was your only source of hope for a medium of communication.

you hate them all.

and worst of all, you hate yourself for drowning in hope. for wishing you were physically stronger so you could at least bond with them through training. for dreaming about a day where they could surprise you and told you they were just testing you and that you actually had worth inside this manor. for praying nightly that they'll smile at you like the heroes you see in tv rather than that of pity.

you wished there was a universe where gotham was safer, more protected with no criminals littering the streets. maybe then they would have more time to notice you crying every night, writing self destructive entries in your diary, sketching what would've been a happy family. they wouldn't have to wear their silly costumes to fight crime and instead would save you from your own demons.

if...

if you were brutally tortured and killed by the joker, or forced to choke on the fear toxin by the scarecrow— hell, even beaten to near death by some random goons; would they have given you a sliver of their love? would they finally look at you and save you from yourself?

because despite your resentment, you would never lie and say you didn't feel blessed that you were thrown to a family of talented individuals.

your drawings of a complete and happy family holding hands together and a diary filled with rants and fantasies of spending time with them proved just that.

you were blessed with them yet cursed at the same time to never reach the same level to be even considered part of their lives.

you were hopeless. you never amounted to anything. you were just, you.

thirteen years have passed by then, and in those years you were proud to say your development as a person, albeit slow, transformed you from a child that succumbed to neglect to an independent person who managed to maintain a comfortable circle of friends, a scholarship for a college far away from gotham, and an apartment of your own (you were a bit in debt due to having to pay for your own because no way in hell would you ask for your father for financial support).

allowance was scarce, your food supplies weren't infinite compared to back when you were living at the wayne manor, and you weren't greeted to michelin star restaurant meals cooked by alfred— but you were content, and that was enough.

though content translated to nightly breakdowns whilst finishing projects or writing essays, the point still stands! at least you had celebrated your eighteenth birthday with drunk smiles and your friends spoiling you to death when you had opened up about your first lonely years of life. everything was going well for you, truly.

you were so, so happy for the nice turn of events. and you wouldn't have made it so far if you hadn't slapped yourself out of the delusion that they actually cared for you.

look at you now! independent and with a life of your own! you'd give yourself a pat in the back.

you hadn't blocked them at all, but their contacts were empty (save for a few desperate messages that date back years ago) and you were fine with that. it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!

alfred communicates with you time to time, reminding you to eat a complete meal rather than those one dollar priced noodles that tasted like pure salt. he told you he misses you a lot, you and your annoying, daily rants about life and school. he misses your awkward smile and when you would help him cook whenever the others aren't around. he misses it when you imitate his posh accent when you taste test his food and give commentary about it.

you miss him, too. growing up, you realized just how much effort alfred would exert just to spend a lot of his time on you.

now, he told you that you are still welcome to the manor whenever, and how he cleans your room weekly in case you'll visit him.

whenever you audio call with him, you'd tear up just a bit at the realization that alfred was more of a father figure than your own biological father. because he at least attended your graduation to make up for the other times he was unable to join you.

what's even better was that he gifted you something you had always wanted for your birthday. despite it being delivered to your door rather than him giving it to you face to face (since you had refused to give him your location and him respecting that decision at least), the heartfelt letter he left you was more than enough to let you cling onto pieces of your past. after all, it was him who greeted you by the door when you were first introduced into the family, bruce being too busy with paperwork that day when you were a measly five year old.

you had started to teasingly call him 'alfie' and a few more nickname after that, which results with a chuckle over the phone every time you had come up with a cheesy name for him whenever you get a wee bit irritated at his own way of making fun of you.

if only this was your life years ago, then maybe you wouldn't have been jealous of all your other friends and pushed them away that day, maybe you would learn that sometimes, family comes in the form of the people outside of your house rather than inside.

that reminds you, maybe you should reconnect with your old friends back in elementary and apologized for your sudden explosive behavior.

you were laying on your bed, phone in hand and opened your inst*gram app to stalk through the names you could remember. well... that was what you should've done, if not for the fact that a notification popped up the very moment you pressed on the search bar and you had accidentally opened a chat with your oldest brother, dick.

you would've ignored the desperate messages you have sent him from the past which all varied from inviting him to eat dinner with you or to at least join you to play in an arcade or anything to convince him to talk to you, all of which were unseen, if not for the fact that it was him who sent you a sudden "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" message, alongside a few more replies that spammed through your phone...

oh!

... that was enough to make you sit up and want to hurl.

dick grayson was a man of many talents. the mature eldest child, the ideal good leader despite his anger issues from time to time, and the same guy who set the standards high for the future robins. he is bruce's greatest achievement.

it was safe to say that if not for the support of many, then he would've suffered so many falls and would've never been strong enough to stand up despite the pain and continue his fights. nightwing was what many superheroes strive to be, an image of light in a grove of darkness such as gotham.

so why was it that he felt like he has failed so deeply right now?

inside your room, dick stands with furrowed brows. it felt too clean to look used. your furniture was polished and look untouched, the lights were too bright and the windows were bolted shut. there were no signs of life other than the notebooks and sketchbooks that were neatly tucked on the middle of the bed and the trinkets that scatter through your desk.

dick stalks through the room, careful to not make a noise as he walks over to the closet, opening it and finding nothing.

he bites his lips at the implication that this was probably the second time he visited your room and how it was also the longest time he remained here. compared to his other siblings, you were the one he noticed the least and... now he feels bad for dismissing you.

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago?

damn it, he was way too focused on his mission that night and ended up ditching and forgetting you! oh god, dick facepalmed and clenched his teeth, seething in some air because no fucking way did he actually remember to feed damian's dog, titus, the same day but forgot to take you out for an important event...

it occurred to him that that was the same day you scored a perfect on "the hardest test of my life!" you had bragged to him awkwardly when he wasn't listening nor looking and you, wanting to celebrate what was a small achievement for dick, chose him to spend time with you!

dick had to carefully breath through his mouth then gulp down the shame he feels right now. he- he has no time to focus on the past but rather the present. he has to find out why the hell is your room so lifeless, yeah... then he'll make it up to you today, definitely.

huh?

is it just him, but why does the room seem so small? it looked like it was meant to be for a kid. clearly, there wasn't enough space for a growing individual like you... did bruce not provide you with a bigger bedroom? ah, dick would definitely tell bruce to relocate you to a bigger room, the current one is too small for even a dog in a manor to sleep in.

dick doesn't want to admit it at all, but... he hasn't seen you for the past few months, or not all, really. sure, he had only recently visited the manor since he's bludhaven's vigilante now, but even through his time in gotham he had never seen you other than the times you pulled his sleeves from back when you were a child.

back when you were a child.

how old are you now? you were so small back then, innocent too. he can recall your curious eyes, your chubby cheeks and the way you stutter through your words as you try to talk to him.

you were significantly younger than jason, and was adopted a week before tim was introduced to the family. he remembers you peeking through alfred's back, gleaming with curiousity and whispering to the butler if it was really the dick grayson. he smiled fondly at your dumbfounded expression, the way your mouth shaped into an "ohh," when he was the one who answered that, yes, it was him. then you whispered again if you can take have an autograph from him, to which he chuckled and told alfred that he'll help accompany you to your room.

when your five year old body tried to waddle closer to his body for an ounce of warmth when he had been guiding you up the stairs, that was also the first time he called you baby bird, with the way you coddled him so closely. his hands find itself patting your head, ruffling your hair and grinning as you both make your path through the halls.

he comes to immediately regret leaving you alone after he had introduced you to your room, remembering his duties as a vigilante than that of a brother.

but despite his early memories of you, he wants to see his baby sibling all grown up now.

had it really been years?

when was the last time you ever had a full-on conversation with him?

was there even a time that he had approached you by himself?

he had always called you baby bird after the first time you meet because of the age gap you two shared. the rare times he acknowledges you, you gave him that look filled with such adoration, like you were proud of him for being your older brother. why did he not notice you?

oh, his baby bird...

dick gulped, trying to ease his shivering by sitting on your neatly folded blankets and taking a worn diary in his hand, one at the bottom stack of books. well, if it was a personal diary then maybe you would've hidden it better, right? he figures since it was all placed on the center of the bed like a piece of treasure that... it would be alright to take just a glimpse.

to confirm if you still see him as your favorite brother.

dick's heartbeat spiked, hoping your entries would be filled with, he doesn't know, anything that didn't implicate some sort of hatred for the family, for him. hoping that despite his lack of attention towards you, that there would still be a spark of love for him. if what he thinks was actually true then... he doesn't know what to do with himself.

he flips through the first page, noting how it was bulkier than the others. the paper was filled with glittery decorations, sequence beads and cheap stickers sparkling at every angle the light hits. it was meant to be a design for the 'front cover' of the notebook, colors blended in a cacophony of rainbows and butterflies and flowers beyond the messy calligraphy that merely states "(name)'s diary!"

dick stifles a grin just from skimming through at the amount of mistakes and erasures, clearly written by the the younger version of you; naive to the world and its cruelty. he commends your creativity, his eyes softening at the few doodles that were written on the corners of the pages.

you're just too adorable for your own good, so much so that the thumping in dick's heart beats louder and louder, ears wringing uncomfortable inside your unventilated bedroom. but he just couldn't rip his eyes away from the diary, daydreaming about how proud you must've been when designing your own diary. he could picture your wide eyes, shy and harmless, and your feet kicking back and forth whilst you decorate your stuff.

everything was what he expected it to be on the first few pages of the diary. all your little rants about your daily life, your eargerness to meet your entire family from your father's side, and the hurt you experienced from your mother's sudden abandonment.

he would've skipped through another diary, one that lacked design and color, save for the name plastered on the front, if not for the grim undertones at every end of your entries despite the child-like manner it was written in.

it all started with "i wish to see my father soon and my big brother dick again!", "alfred told me my father can't come to the parent-teacher conference, he says he's in a veryyy important meeting :( but alfred would come!", "dick told me he can't help me with my science project but he promise he'll help me with something else later!" which halfway through the diary, your style fluctuates and lesser effort was exhausted on the writing.

one entry in particular, written on the last page of your diary, shattered a sliver of hope within dick, his breathing momentarily ceased from reading through your sentences; uncharacteristic of you, too mature for someone at the age of ten to write.

"XX/XX/XXXX.

dear diary, it's my tenth birthday today. i celebrated with my friends at school. they told me i always look down whenever it's my birthday. they think that bruce would throw a fancy celebration for me. i tried to hide my laughter from them. it's a really funny joke. i haven't seen him for months. i told dick that he was invited but i don't think he remembers it's my birthday today. alfred told me to come out of my room, he said he cooked my favorite dinner, that he's sorry he got my present late, but i don't want get out of my room. i heard dick is gonna watch a movie with tim later. i don't feel so good, my chest hurts, but i don't want to get out right now.

i'll eat the cupcake tomorrow."

it had been nearly two hours since dick had sat on your bed, eyes dilating whilst reading through your first diary. the cold season had already pricked his skin, but his entire body felt so unnaturally warm, a warmth that scorches him, searing deep into flesh. a lump had form in his throat, accompanying the hellish throbbing of his heart.

"fuck..." he brought his fingers to his head, carefully massaging his forehead but it relieves nothing. he wants to see you right now— he needs to talk to you. god, he has to apologize, he needs to see what you look like right now, needs to know if you're alright.

you're clearly not.

he has to oppress the urge to punch the walls, reminding himself that it's your room he's in and if he damages your already delicate property, then he's proving himself worse than he already is.

he rushes to grab another diary, the one at the top of the pile, skipping to the end of the page.

nothing. all the entries were months ago, all written in vague detail like you were starting to hide secrets. his teeth grinds against each other, frustration seeping through his veins.

he needs to— shit, he needs to find you right now. he needs to find his baby bird and make up for the all bullshit him and his family had done. if you were gone for months, even years; he doesn't even want to think about it.

but how?!

there were no signs of you. anything written your diary, your drawings, the trinkets on your bedside table— they signal no clues whatsoever, all dating back to months, even years. it's not possible at all, for nobody to notice your disappearance. dick would've noticed sooner. he should've noticed sooner. oh, he doesn't even want to think about the dangers that await you outside the mansion. with how naive you were about the outside world, you wouldn't last at all.

his baby bird wouldn't survive gotham's streets, especially not when winter was nearing.

think, grayson, think...

his phone!

he immediately reaches into his pockets to grab his phone, clammy fingers swifly encoding his password and opening his contacts.

your number was the quickest to find, it was the only one without an icon of you and an endearing nickname. he makes a mental note to change that soon and replaced your default name to your nickname.

then, without hesitation, he typed, "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" sending the message without rereading, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as he scrolls through all your previous messages.

messages that he should've replied to with the same level of enthusiasm as you. skimming through the past, unseen texts as your motivation began to dwindle the further he refused to reply back. he promises he'll never make you feel invisible again.

seconds feel like hours for him, as he blows raspberries to pass the time, too concentrated an ounce of a reply to even notice the entirely new presence inside the room.

it's alright to call you, yes? after all, dick just wanted to check in with his baby bird and see if you're doing swell and dandy and... safe without him...!

his thumbs pressed on the call button before he could think through his actions, his other hand runs through his hair, sweat running down his forehead as if he had ran a marathon.

he waited, and waited, and waited until the call beeped and provided its automated response. he calls you again but the line immediately cuts off, he tries to spam you with more messages but they weren't delivered.

you blocked him.

fuck, he messed up big time. he needs to get to the batcave. he needs to find your fucking location before it's too late. dick needs to see you again before he loses it.

but before he could carefully place your sketchbooks back to its rightful place, he sees a silhouette at the corner of his eyes; short figure, arms crossed, and a sneer on his eyes already tells him who it was.

damian wayne.

he forgot to train with damian today.

but it doesn't matter, damian has to see it for himself— what made dick so disheveled, so delirious. damian has to finally see just how much of a wonderful sibling you are.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this was 4,600+ words and it drained the energy out of me. it was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i was too motivated !! i'm also quite proud of this chapter. it was a pain characterizing dick grayson and the reader. i really hope this is as good as the prequel because it's 3am right now and writing dick's part was a pain in the ass ^^' as always, please do comment or send asks if you like it for quicker updates!!!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @alishii, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @deadinside-09, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa (shoutout to her specifically because i got motivated from their comment!)

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere batboys #yandere robin #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #platonic yandere #i hope for this to blow up again like the other one #is it obvious that i like writing angst

576 notes · View notes

leaawrites · 1 day

Text

Freaked Out

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando makes his relationship official via Live stream

Warnings: mentions of an engagement, use of Y/n

Masterlist

The lights were low. There was no sound but the breathing in sync of two people deep into thoughts. Two hours went by of lying in the same bed with no eyes closed.

“Are you sure you want to stay with me?” Lando asked, his hand gliding through the hair of the person beside him. She hummed, snuggling deeper into his chest. Inhaling his scent like it would be the last time. “I mean, are you really sure? You can’t walk with me around all holding hands and you have to put up with all those stupid rumors about a life you know ain’t true.”

“Lando,” she mused, propping her head on her hands and looking up at him. “I’ve put up with all this for god knows how long. This doesn’t change anything.” His eyes lingered on her hand a little longer, smiling at the shimmering light reflecting on the diamond.

“Two and a half years,” he said, reminding her on how long they’ve been together. Still surprised at how long they got to keep their relationship in private, away from the media and all of those people around them.

It might seem rather fast, but nothing ever felt as right as asking her to marry him. Nothing ever made him feel so sure of himself as when she said yes. The reminder that he had someone who loved him. The knowing that someone was willing to put up with him forever. It made him feel safe.

“Are you sure you wanna keep it a secret? Keep us a secret?” Lando asked, playing with the ring on her finger.

“I’ll be yours in silence for however long you want me to,” she said, laying her head back down, soothing his chest with kisses.

Lando didn’t answer, he couldn’t. There was never a moment when he didn’t want to just post a pic of the two kissing or making put or whatever it is that will make everyone know that he was a happy man with her. But he knew it wouldn’t work that way. There will always be some crazy fans, offended at the though of him having a future with anyone but them. He felt guilty for not showing her off like he’d want to. It weighed him down day by day, though he knew it was worth it. When he came home from a race weekend and wanted nothing but held, he knew her arms would already be open as he walked through the door. She was everything he wanted. She was more than he deserved.

Being a man, chronically online, Lando knew about almost every trend going around the world. No exception for the one McLaren just posted with Oscar as their star in the spotlight.

“Hey guys,” Lando spoke into the phone as he walked into the living room of his home in Monaco. His girlfriend didn’t look up, already used to him walking around the apartment when he talked on the phone with someone. “Can you watch my girlfriend while I set my sim up?”

Lando placed the phone on the coffee table, camera facing his girlfriend who worked on something on her laptop. At the familiar sentence structure, she looked up, her head following the boy, who walked into his game room.

“What the-” she started saying, before being cut off by Lando putting his head out of the room.

“You can’t swear, I’m still a PR-nightmare, you can’t be one as well,” he yelled out to her, before disappearing again.

“Hello?” The girl said, looking at the screen in front of her. At first she thought it was a normal video, though soon enough she saw the endless comments of unknown people flood the screen. Her eyes widen at the sudden realization of what just happened. “You’re live? Are you kidding me?” She yelled at the boy, who burst out laughing in the other room. He came rushing out, snatching his phone back and reading through the comments of very surprised fans, to say the least.

“Sorry, guys. Sorry,” Lando spoke to the people, still giggling at his little prank and his girlfriends grimace. “Not my girlfriend.”

That made her look at him, a mischievous look in his eyes as he smirked, looking at her and not the screen which was filled with freaked out people. Some saying, “Good lord, thank god. I just had a heart attack, thinking he really cheated on me.” And some saying, “That’s sad, she’s really pretty.”

“My fiancee,” he corrected himself, smiling at her. The girl in front of him, couldn’t help her own smile forming on her lips. Then he ended the live, leaving the people shocked and the world stuck in questions.

“What have you done, Norris?” Y/n asked, pulling her fiance down on the sofa with her.

“I’m not hiding you anymore,” he simply said, snuggling in the nape of her neck and peppering it with small, soft kisses.

#lando norris #lando norizz #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 x reader

828 notes · View notes

sonic-fankid-showdown · 2 days

Text

Thank you!

That's a wrap, everyone! Thank you all so much for participating, and congratulations to all of you! But of course, a special mention to our winner Stellar the Hedgehog, by @emthimofnight! Congrats!

This was so much fun! I hope you all think the same. I really want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for making this event the best it could've been. It was amazing seeing all of the kids interact, and all of the artists be so nice to each other. I truly appreciate it a lot, and I need you to know that it was all thanks to you<3

I hope that you know that no matter how far into the tourney your character made it, they are amazing, and I hope they got (and continue getting) all the love they deserve.

It truly is inspiring to see all of these creators caring so much for their characters, and I want you all to see that. It doesn't matter how many votes your kid got, because they always had your vote, and that's honestly amazing, and it serves as great inspiration.

Here's the link for the first round, so everyone can go check out the creators who participated and hopefully continue to support their next ventures.

And, with nothing else to add, again, thank you, I appreciate you all and all the effort you put into making this as fun as you could.

-Your host, Kat.

#sonic fankid showdown #sonic fanchild #sonic fankid #sonic oc #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fancharacter #sonic original character

536 notes · View notes

fangirl-dot-com · 2 days

Text

🤩Track 8 - Gorgeous

*I am alive!! I apologize for taking so long. I had to finish my internship before I could really start to get back into the groove. so here we go, almost 4k words just for you! lemme know if y'all like the redemption arc!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Logan was on cloud-9 right now.

Sure, the only person who could rival his good mood was probably Charles, who had just won his home race. But with Logan, he had you in his arms and another trophy to take back to Italy.

The only issue was that he could feel eyes on him. He had felt it since he shared the podium with the McLaren driver hours before. The sad puppy dog eyes that used to have Logan on beck and call for the boy. The ones that belonged to the person he used to call his best friend.

Oscar was a mystery that the American couldn’t figure out.

How much of their childhood was a lie? How much of their “supposed friendship” was all fake? In his heart, Logan still wished that it was all true. That maybe, he could go back in time and live in his F3 era, where he knew that Oscar would always be there for him.

But, if he did that, then you wouldn’t be in his arms, in the back of Jimmyz after Charles won the 2024 Monaco grand prix.

As if you could tell something was wrong, you tilted your head to look at Logan, who had a sad look in his eyes.

“Everything ok Log?” you questioned.

The blond gave a slight nod before digging his head into your shoulder. You knew that Logan could be a different type of drunk every time the two of you partied. You guessed that Monaco was a sad-drunk Logan, which also meant a very lovey-dovey Logan.

Your hand reached up and scratched his head, making him lean into your palm. You knew that Oscar was watching, he always was. His eyes were on the two of you like glue ever since the club mishap after the opening race back in January.

You and Logan wouldn’t admit it, but the months in between the argument and Imola were some of the worst months for the both of you. If you thought being in Indy was isolating, you couldn’t compare the weeks of silence. Then again, it was mainly silence from you and Logan. But you two had been hurt and it was easier to build up walls again then let people in.

Now, it was better. You and Logan made use of the on-team therapists that the team provided. They helped you get through things that you didn’t even know were problems until you talked about it.

And a few of those discussions were about Oscar.

A part of you wanted to push Logan in the Aussie’s arms and make sure that they apologized to each other. You could tell that Oscar wasn’t having the best season. His Monaco placing of P3 was the highest he had reached. Imola before that wasn’t the best.

On the other hand, if they apologized and were friends again, where would that leave you? Deep down, you knew that Logan wouldn’t abandon you. But sometimes, the past liked to repeat itself. You had friends that dropped you so quickly and you couldn’t afford to lose Logan like you lost your other friends.

Your therapist had mentioned that you had attachment and abandonment issues after everything you had been through. You weren’t going to argue with her as it made sense. You were scared of being replaced, that was it.

When Oscar met your eyes, you flashed him a quick smile. However, that had the Aussie turn his eyes away and to the floor, which made you frown. Maybe if you could be nice to Oscar, Logan and him could make up.

A snort from Logan had you looking away from where Oscar sat. A soft smile made its way to your lips as you looked up at Logan.

“What is it?”

He leaned in to your ear to whisper, “Look at Charles right now.”

You looked around for the Monegasque and completely lost it when you noticed his Monaco flag covering his face, or well, his entire torso. What had you more intrigued was Max, who had Charles’s hand in his as he dragged the probably black-out-drunk man into a quieter corner.

“Is there something going on between them?” you asked.

A hum came from Logan. “I don’t know. If there is, they’re not being very discreet.”

You leaned back into his chest. “You can’t talk Mr. Kiss Me On The Podium.”

Logan whined, “It was one time.”

You took your phone out and your eyes widened at the time. “We should probably get back to the hotel. It’s nearly 3 in the morning.”

The blond nodded and grabbed your hand, much like Max did with Charles. The two of you dodged and weaved through multiple people as they also congratulated Logan on his race. Yours wasn’t as impressive as you crossed the line in P4.

As you led Logan away, you passed by Oscar’s table.

“Congrats on P3,” you said, hoping that he’d heard you over the music.

Oscar, at first, hadn’t thought you were talking to him. But, the words “congrats” and “P3” made it clear that you were, indeed, talking to him. His eyes widened as he looked up at you. Logan behind wasn’t really paying attention, and Oscar didn’t know whether to feel glad or deflated.

He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

You didn’t respond, but that same lopsided smile was flashed his way before you turned around and dragged Logan to the front, leaving Oscar frozen in his seat.

A long sigh left his lips as he put his head down on the table. He didn’t know what to do. Logan had been his best friend, there was no lie about that. But with McLaren and all the success, he had pushed the American to the point of no-return. And he was dealing with the consequences. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him look up.

His eyes, now partially watery, met the blue ones of George Russell.

George was expecting Oscar to have fallen asleep, because if there was anyone who could close his eyes and nap at a club, it would be Oscar. However, he wasn’t expecting the younger man to be close to tears.

The Briton quickly sat down next to the Australian.

“What the matter Oscar? Not happy with P3?”

That did it.

It was only a matter of minutes before the floodgates opened and Oscar began to sob. George’s eyes widened in a panic, not knowing what to do with a sobbing Oscar. He frantically looked around, trying to find someone who could help him.

His eyes landed on Charles and Max, but by the way they were both swaying, neither of them would be very much help.

He glanced to the other side, eyes connecting with Lewis. He made a weird motion to the heap on the table that was Oscar and wildly beckoned him over.

The older Briton picked up what George was putting down and ended his conversation. He walked swiftly over and sat on the other side of Oscar.

“What’s wrong with him?” Lewis questioned, now hearing the very clear sobs.

George ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I congratulated him on P3, and he just started crying.”

“He didn’t even look at me,” came a wail from Oscar.

Lewis was now confused. “Charles looked at you a bunch mate.”

“No!” Oscar sat up, fire in his eyes. To George and Lewis, he looked like a very peeved kitten. “Logan!”

George was even more confused. “Logan?”

Oscar sadly nodded, lip pouting. “Our first podium and he didn’t even look at me.”

His head thunked back on the table, which made the two Mercedes drivers want to laugh. Lewis took a deep breath before putting his hand on Oscar’s back.

“Mate, the two of you aren’t exactly friends right now.”

That made Oscar quickly sit up, and more tears fell from his eyes. “B-but, he’s my best friend. I didn’t mean to push him away.”

George sadly smiled. “Does Logan know that?”

Oscar looked at the Briton. “He won’t let me talk to him. He turns away. Even Y/n talks to me sometimes but he won’t. I just want my friend back.”

Another set of wails fell from his lips, making some people look in their direction. George grit his teeth as he tried to comfort Oscar. He hadn’t expected the Aussie to be so heartbroken about this.

Lewis leaned in so that Oscar could hear him. “Well, then you just have to make him listen. Logan is guarded, so you have to keep pushing.”

A sniff came from Oscar.

“But what if he never forgives me?”

“Then he won’t. But you would be able to apologize and move on.”

That was definitely the wrong choice of words as Oscar started to sob once more. George sent Lewis a stink eye over the sobbing heap of McLaren driver.

The younger Briton took a deep breath. “Lewis didn’t mean it like that. He’s just saying that you have to give Logan the chance to know that you are sorry and process things. It took him almost three months for him to forgive Lewis, Max, and Charles.”

That at least got Oscar to stop sobbing. George made a mental note that Oscar was a sad-type of drunk. He was only hoping that you and Logan were doing fine, knowing that Logan tended to get sappy when drunk as well.

However, it was about the same in the hotel that you were staying at. Logan had unexpectedly started crying in the car, making you panic. By the time you got him to the room, he was almost in hysterics.

You had no clue what to do as Logan flopped face down on the bed. His sobs were still audible through the multiple blankets. You sat next to his head and rubbed his back.

“Logan, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

You knew he said something, coming from the muffles. You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see them.

“I can’t hear you through the blanket.”

Logan pushed himself up, letting you see his red eyes and tear streaks.

“Oscar hates me,” he wailed and flopped back face down.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry with him. Obviously, the Aussie didn’t hate Logan. In fact, you think that Oscar is very sorry for what happened between them. You pushed all your feelings aside, wanting to help your boyfriend.

“Baby, I don’t think Oscar hates you.”

The sobbing blond turned his head. “But I yelled at him.”

“You yelled at Max, Charles, and Lewis. Do they hate you?”

There was some silence before he spoke up again and huffed. “No.”

You giggled. “So why do you think that Oscar hates you?”

Logan’s lip wobbled as he spoke. “Because he was so distant. I tried talking to him, and he kept pushing me away.”

You thought for a moment. “You both were rookies with a lot on your plate. And, he had a pretty mean teammate. Maybe think about that?”

Logan nodded. In his drunk mind, his thoughts were all over the place. But deep down, he knew that Oscar may have not meant to be distant. There was a difference between Williams and McLaren. The Aussie might have had more pressure than what he wanted to tell anyone.

When he finally looked up at you, you could see the puppy dog eyes. Those bright ocean blue eyes that you loved so much. You always felt like you might sink, drown, and die in them. Logan sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head on your lap. His arms came around your waist to hold you.

“What if we invite him to paddle in Canada?” he whispered, a bit nervous to your reaction.

He knew that you dealt with some abandonment issues and didn’t want you thinking that he’d replace you if him and Oscar miraculously saved their friendship. So, by asking to invite him to paddle, it wouldn’t just be the two of them.

He opened his eyes to see your reaction and was pleased with the soft look in your eyes. “We can do that baby.”

“You’re so gorgeous. I love you.”

You snorted, not expecting that. “I love you too, Logan.”

A soft snore was your answer, making you giggle again. You gently rolled Logan onto his side of the bed and undressed him down to his boxers. You knew he tended to overheat, and sleeping in jeans was never fun for anyone.

You stripped as well, but took one of Logan’s shirts out of his suitcase to use as pajamas. The bottom of the t-shirt ended a bit above mid-thigh. It was perfect.

When Canada arrived two weeks late, it was wet and cold. The race was a perfect reflection of the weather. You and Logan couldn’t be bothered by either of you not getting pole. In fact, you both almost ran over George when he managed to set the fastest time right before Max.

The two of you, of course, hugged Max with the same ferocity. With Charles, you both hugged him a bit sweeter. You and Logan had made it to the lower ranks of Q3. Charles almost made it but was knocked out by Lance.

Oscar stood by the sides, watching you two do a quick debrief with your small group of friends. Even Lewis, who had normally stayed away after quali-sessions, was excitedly waving his hands around, happy to be in the front of the pack for this race.

The Aussie almost looked away, but Logan had decided to look in his direction, locking eyes with him. Oscar was ready for a sour expression, but was confused at the small smile the American threw his way. He quickly flashed one back before Logan’s attention went back to you and Max, who seemed to be in a very serious conversation.

It really wasn’t as Max was telling you about his cats, but Oscar didn’t know.

He was brought out of his staring by Lando wrapping an arm around him. He was then led away, but he quickly glanced back. You had caught his eyes this time, giving him the same smile that you had at the club. But this time, Oscar was brave enough to smile back.

When his teammate dragged him away, you turned back to the group. “Are we all good for paddle on Monday? I know it’s very quick after the race.”

George nodded. “I can come. Is it just us?”

Logan chewed his lip. “I think I might invite Oscar?”

Four pairs of wide eyes stared at him in disbelief. But they quickly smiled at him.

Charles, who had made his way over after qualifying, said, “I think that’s very nice of you.”

Logan nodded, sighing softly. “You guys don’t have to come.”

Max wrapped an arm around him. “We won’t leave you to the wolves. Y/n could take care of you if we can’t make it. I’ll let you know on Monday morning.”

The Ferrari driver grumbled a bit. “I just want to get through tomorrow.”

lamborghini_racing has posted

liked by sargeantgirlie, Dior, lambo&co, and 3,204,284 others

lamborghini_racing tough race, but we'll get them next time. guess the bees don't like the rain 🐝

see all comments

lambo_duo we'll get them next time! still leading both championships!!

papa_tonino corsa superba. coraggio, ci arriverai la prossima volta 👏 (superb racing. chins up, you'll get there next time)

allofitaly what papa tonino said - Spain is ours !!

formula_delulu lando should have gotten a worse penalty. five seconds is nothing when George was almost 10+ behind

lestappenlove this just shows that lamborghini is more consistent. p2 and p3 should have been ours but whatever. heartbroken for Ferrari, Williams, and Lambo

Logan remembered how Charles grumbled as he had to hoist himself out of his car in the middle of the race. He was grumbling the same way. There were only ten laps left with Max in the lead, you and him trailing behind the Dutchman. However, it seemed like one of the McLaren drivers wanted to go bowling after getting a pitstop with new tyres.

Everyone knew the track was cold, reflecting the rainy atmosphere. Going for gaps on cold tyres was not something that should be done. However, Lando wasn’t everyone.

After coming out of the pits, he had barreled past you and then past him, clipping his tyre, which sent him turning back into you, ultimately resulting in a double DNF. He had made sure that you were fine as he helped you out of your car. You had gotten shunted more than he did, but he was still sore.

It was silence in the recovery car as it drove you back to the pits. You two kept your helmets on as you got to your garage. Both of you were trembling as you walked in, expecting looks of hatred for crashing. Because that’s what happened with Williams and Arrow. A DNF was a death sentence for you and him.

However, you two were met with sympathetic looks and very comforting hugs and pats. The team medics quickly looked you and Logan over for any major injuries. You looked over at Logan, who probably wanted to cry from the kindness as much as you did.

Getting dressed was hard as your shoulders and fronts hurt, but you got through it. Max had won in the time that it took you both to get back and change.

Still wanting to be good friends, you watched the podium celebrations as Max, Lando, and George stood tall. You were thankful that George wasn’t right on your tail as Logan hit you, because you would have hit the Briton.

You wanted to say something to Logan, but were instantly pissed once again. The crowd of papaya-clad fans around you were chanting Lando’s name during the Dutch national anthem. You hoped that Lando would have the decency to gesture to them to stop chanting as Charles had done in Monza last year. However, the Briton seemed to bask in the praise. Logan sneered as Lando raised his fist, almost jeering them on.

You scoffed.

You watched as Max and George both side-eyed him.

After the podium celebrations, you and Logan made your way back to the Lamborghini garage. You passed by Ferrari, noticing Charles glaring at someone behind you. A quick turn to see who it was also had you glaring.

Lando and the McLaren team were celebrating the podium. But a swatch of blue had you calming down as you noticed Max sneaking into the bright red garage.

Logan took your hand to lead you into your own yellow and black. The two of you went to Logan’s driver room and sat down. Your head was resting on his shoulder when there was a knock on the door.

“We’re not expecting anyone right?” you asked.

Logan looked confused as he got up and walked to the door. When he saw a flash of papaya, he wanted to slam it closed. But the McLaren kit belonged to Oscar and not Lando.

The three of you just looked at each other before Oscar cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

Logan said nothing, but turned to the side to let the Aussie in.

You went to say something, but he held out his hand. “Can I say something first?”

Logan huffed. “Sure. Unless you want to be like your teammate out there and be disrespectful.”

Oscar, with wide eyes, shook his head. “I can here to apologize.”

You and Logan were interested now.

The Aussie took a deep breath. “I know words won’t repair the past year, but I want to slowly start fixing it.”

He looked to Logan first. “I’m sorry Logan. I shouldn’t have let Lando be so influential on me last year. Because of that, I lost you as my best friend and I regret it every day. Your friendship meant the world to me, and I’m paying my own consequences.”

Oscar then turned to you. “Y/n, we don’t know each other well, but I’m also sorry to you. I noticed how everyone seemed to distance you at McLaren functions and I should have been the better person instead of following the crowd.”

He was on the verge of tears, but so were you and Logan.

“I’m not here because anyone asked me. I’m here because I want to make things right. And I know that I probably won’t be forgiven immediately, I’m not asking you to. But I wanted to say sorry first and hope to be on the right path to be friends. And – ”

Oscar couldn’t finish as he was brought into a big hug by Logan. His breath shuddered as he melted into the hug. He sobbed a bit more when he felt your arms wrap around him and the taller blond. He squeezed Logan a bit tighter as more tears fell.

Logan released the hug after a few moments and wiped his own tears. You also wiped your tears as you giggled at the moment of three drivers all crying together. Your laughs made Logan start, which made Oscar join in.

It felt ridiculous as you three really started laughing.

When you came down from the laughing high, Logan finally looked at Oscar in full. His eyes were red, but so where his and yours. He smiled at the Aussie.

“Oscar, how do you feel about some paddle?”

venus2 has posted

liked by oscarpiastri, pheonix95, sargeantgirlie, and 204,295 others

venus2 padel after the storm

see all comments

loscar4ever OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱

presidentlogan LOSCAR IS BACK????

phoenix95 we totally crushed them 😌

venus2 YEAH WE DID

charles_leclerc if only SOMEONE put in the same amount of effort we could have won 😡

maxverstappen1 I SAID I WAS SORRY

y/ns_world everyone is focused on the first pic but the second one is so cute 🥺

y/nxlogan I know righttttt

lambo_duo glad to see smiles in the comments, we'll bring it back in Spain!

pheonix95 has posted

liked by venus2, charles_leclerc, logang2, and 402,947 others

phoenix95 you're so gorgeous it actually hurts 🥴

see all comments

loscarlife I CAME STRAIGHT FROM LOGAN'S POST

cardar8155 carlos and oscar are still superior

lestappenlove ummmmmmm no.

venus2 you're so gorgeous 🙃

charles_leclerc someone complemented me once 😒

maxverstappen1 I'M STILL ALIVE????

charles_leclerc y'all hear that 🤨

lewishamilton just the wind

y/n.nation they're such couple goals

oscarpiastri has posted

liked by maxverstappen1, opeightyone, venus2, and 805,294 others

oscarpiastri never playing doubles with them again 🥲

see all comments

opeightyone looks like we should start a padel line

lando_no_rizz glad that it seemed to be the group plus oscar

sargeantgirlie he's on thin ice, but I guess oscar is now fine

phoenix95 admit it, you're just scared of us 😏

oscarpiastri yes. on and off track.

venus2 AS YOU SHOULD BE 😤

oscarpiastri @/maxverstappen1 come get your son pls

maxverstappen1 that's George's son

georgerussell63 oh so he's only my son when he's acting out

loscarland MY FAMILY IS BACK TOGETHER

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

456 notes · View notes

lucid-loves · 2 days

Note

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely.

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target.

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost.

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand.

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance.

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier.

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you.

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over.

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet.

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate.

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel.

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil.

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you.

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it.

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain.

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there.

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought.

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive.

This was your clear victory. And he hated it.

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something.

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team.

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world.

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books.

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily.

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch.

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech.

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts.

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good.

You hated everything about him too.

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes.

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment.

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process.

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be.

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to.

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time.

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?”

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you.

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied.

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm.

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great.

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details.

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower.

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought.

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today.

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours.

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden.

Only Ghost knew the answer to that.

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead.

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold.

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring.

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department.

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet.

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time.

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder.

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart.

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper.

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake.

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too.

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out.

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you.

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.”

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late.

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much.

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all.

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears.

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it.

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts.

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words.

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think.

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you.

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you.

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons.

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not.

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it.

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you.

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission.

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power.

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent.

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life.

He suddenly wondered if you would like it.

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous.

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons.

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . .

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought.

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were.

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it.

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his.

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . .

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with.

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars.

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer.

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details.

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that.

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time.

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air.

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up.

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife.

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on.

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm.

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this.

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet.

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced.

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained.

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past.

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one.

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet.

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141.

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice.

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other?

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust.

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered.

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips.

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces.

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it.

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite.

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody.

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue.

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so.

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen.

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!”

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not.

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it.

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off.

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you.

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little.

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance.

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on.

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric.

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer.

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place.

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight.

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was.

It honestly turned you on.

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more.

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance.

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him.

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak.

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team.

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down.

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name.

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips.

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more.

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?”

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed.

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers.

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight.

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy.

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it.

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever.

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning.

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze.

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life.

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous.

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy.

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum.

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again.

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind.

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted.

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves.

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet.

He could never imagine letting you go now.

#ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut

545 notes · View notes

kisses4reid · 3 days

Text

understand? pt. 1 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you’re a polyglot translator assigned to work for the bau in a cross-national case, and there’s a doctor who wants to impress you.

genre - fem!reader, SHE/HER r, fluff, meet cute, you know more than spencer and he’s attracted to that

warnings - you're both awkward, mentions of gross case file photos, little research about polyglots actually done so there are inaccuracies, cliffhanger for part 2.

w/c - 1.4k

a/n - thank you for the req anon!! there was multiple parts to this but i really like the first idea so that’s what this fic is about, might keep the other idea for later hehe. i did change some aspects. love you, thank you for the support <33 there will be multiple parts!!! stay tuned!!!

req - hi pia 💞💝🩷💓 how r u? i hope you’re feeling wonderful! this is my first time requesting smthg i apologize if i get something wrong! i’ve been having 2 thoughts about spencer x fem!reader, where reader is a russian translator and idk they meet cute or she has to work with the bau helping them on a case. just wanted to give these ideas to you, obviously feel free to do anything with them! i really enjoy your work and your writing is incredible! i have your notifications on so i am always reading whatever you post! have a great day pia 💝 lots n lots of kisses for u!

This was not what you expected.

You, a woman in your late twenties that spent most of her time in a room listening to voices and decoding foreign messages, didn’t know what you expected. But this: a scary boss, an italian old man, and a skinny college kid, was not it.

“Y/n L/n? I’m Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, and this is Agent Rossi and Doctor Agent Reid.”

You nodded your head, thick hair covering your top eyelashes as you glanced at the men. Agent Rossi shook your hand, and Dr Reid simply stood and gawked at you. To be honest, it made you worried. You had been warned this was a close knit team, that they trusted each other more than anything and that you shouldn’t get attached to any of them as you’d only be assisting them for one case.

Maybe they just didn’t warm up to new people.

“I’ll do your formal introduction to the rest of the team now, if you’re settled down.” He asks cooly. You like the way his voice rasps, it’s assertive yet comforting.

“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” You smiled reassuringly at the unit chief, not ignoring the raised eyebrow you received from the silent young man now behind you.

Aaron Hotchner, your new boss for the next week or so, lead you to a large room with a circular table sat in the middle. There were two other women, one blonde and one raven haired, and another bald man that glanced at you immediately after you entered. They smiled at you and trailed your steps to where you stood beside the unit chief in front of a large TV screen.

“Everyone, this is Agent Y/n L/n. She’ll be assisting us with the Becker case you’ve all been informed of. She’ll mainly be our translator and interpreter, but she’ll also be useful for cultural identifiers and anything that we wouldn’t notice otherwise.”

You nodded along, never being a fan of introductions since you moved to America as a small child.

“This is JJ, our liaison, Agent Emily Prentiss and Agent Derek Morgan.”

The ladies smiled at you, in fact all of them did. They were surprisingly open to the fact you would be joining them, the fact made your shoulders loosen and a breath to be let out discreetly.

Next, you were on a long plane flight to Maine with Agents you had known for little under two hours, conversing about victim profiles and motives. The table in front of the ladies and your boss was strewn with victim files and gruesome photos. And while you weren’t a stranger to the dangers and violence the job brought, you had gotten comfortable with only hearing about it and not seeing it. So you opted to hover around the table and stay silent, you weren’t a trained profiler after all, just a translator.

There was a wave of cologne that disrupted your senses, causing you to angle your head back, only to be greeted by the tall doctor.

You smiled softly, assuming the closeness was due to the aeroplane's arrangement. Also because you got the vibe that Spencer didn’t like you.

“Are you okay? You seem uneasy,” he asked. It was the first time you heard his voice. And it was as adolescent as you imagined for someone so young, but it had a sophisticated edge to it, with a honey-like undertone. Finding things in voices as if they were perfumes was something you unconsciously started to do since working as a translator.

“I’m fine.” You grinned reassuringly, turning back to focus on the team’s findings.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped away, sitting down beside Morgan who had taken a seat at the back. Morgan squinted at his friend, noticing the rare confusion splayed on his face as he stared in your direction.

“What’s up? Pretty girl got your tongue?” Morgan removed his headphones with a cheeky smile displayed on his handsome face.

“For someone who specialises in languages she doesn’t talk much.”

Morgan smirked, “Maybe not to you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong though.” Spencer ripped his gaze off the back of your head.

“You’ve been staring at her since she walked through those doors. You were so distracted you didn’t even greet her this morning.” Morgan pointed out. Spencer tilted his head confused, a small blush creeping up his neck. “I watched the whole thing from the conference room, so did JJ and Emily.”

The tall boy slumped in his chair and forced himself to look out of the plane’s window, avoiding a reply to Morgan as he knew it would only result in more teasing. You were physically attractive, everyone could see that, but the thing that caught Spencer’s attention was your intelligence. He was no stranger to being a polyglot, he learnt languages for fun, but you were simply next level. Morgan studied Spencer’s face for a second before raising his attention to your hovering state. “Agent Y/n L/n.” Morgan called, causing Spencer to widen his eyes and immediately adjust his slumped position in his plane seat. You turned your head in surprise, slightly confused why you would be needed anywhere else than the files you had been translating for the past two minutes. Your heels were silent against the carpeted floors, but Spencer could sense your presence anyways.

“How many languages do you speak?” The stoic man asked, his eyes darting between you and the doctor below you. You were not short, your genes didn’t allow for it, but you had noticed you were only taller than JJ and Rossi in the team and it felt foreign to not tower over everyone. “Um, I speak 8 languages fluently, and 4 languages semi-fluently.” You stated, readying to turn back to assist the team before Morgan spoke up once again

“Did you know that pretty boy can speak Spanish and German?”

Before Spencer could help himself, he corrected the man, “And Latin and Russian,” Spencer turned his head up to you, “But I can understand more.”

You smiled, genuinely impressed and confused on how a man that young could learn that much. But to be fair, you were in the same boat. The nickname got your attention, locking it in the back of your mind to remind yourself that the people you were working with did in fact have senses of humour, and weren’t just heartless officers. There wasn’t any reason to think that though, as you had been cared for with respect and even Prentiss made a funny remark beforehand. It sort of felt like a family dinner you were intruding on. “That’s impressive, Doctor Reid.” You reply genuinely.

“I mean it’s nothing compared to you though,” his voice was pitched slightly higher and his hands started motioning to nothing in particular, “your brain is constantly changing from high activity to low activity when you're translating from one language to another. Your language network, the lateral frontal lobe, is constantly lighting up and dimming down depending on what language you hear, ordinary people’s language networks only turn on and off.”

Morgan smirked and glanced up at your intrigued and surprised expression. You nodded, a small blush coating the tips of your ears as you responded, “Thank you.” You didn’t really know what else to say, which is funny for someone who understands so many languages, so you simply smiled and turned back to the table. Spencer slumped again, watching you walk away and asking himself why he would inform a pretty girl about her own brain, when she most definitely already knows about it.

“Don’t worry too much, Reid.” Morgan called, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The boy raised a brow, not understanding. “She digs it, I can tell. But she’s just like you, knows how to speak in a million ways and still doesn’t know how to small talk.”

You landed without any more awkward interactions, and got introduced to some sheriffs in Maine, one of them giving you a tighter handshake than the rest and a stare that could only mean unpleasant things. It wasn't something sexist or creepy that lingered in his eyes, it was more like hatred. Spencer took the sheriff's attention away from you after noticing what the whole team did, and asked him to show him the records they kept at the precinct.

Emily Prentiss came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, squeezing it like she understood what you had thought you'd seen. Out of everyone else in the team, she would understand the most.

taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

677 notes · View notes

thehighladywrites · 2 days

Text

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

721 notes · View notes

claypgeon · 13 hours

Text

locked in a closet | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x landos bestfriend!reader

summary: lando norris locks his two bestfriends in a broom closet in hopes that they’ll stop hating each other.

notes: one of the longest smau’s i’ve done! reminder that comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated <33

liked by, oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 438,626 others!

lando.jpg: How can i get my bestfriends to stop hating each other?

view comments below!

oscarpiastri: You can’t.

lando.jpg: ☹️

oscarpiastri: You can pout all you want. We will never get along.

lando.jpg: Why must you break my heart 💔

user1: it’s been a whole year lando…i don’t think they’ll ever get along

user2: NEVER SAY NEVER

user3: oscar this, lando that, can we talk about how good y/n looks?? 🙄

yourusername: THANK YOU!! nobody appreciates my beauty anymore 😒😒

oscarpiastri: What beauty?

yourusername: die?

user4: LMAOO

yourusername: maybe if, he who should not be named, wasn’t so annoying, we could actually get along!

oscarpiastri: I’m not fucking voldemort you can say my name

yourusername: o-os🤮c-ca🤮🤮🤮🤮 no i just can’t.

oscarpiastri: Oh and i’m the annoying one??

yourusername: yeah! you are!

oscarpiastri: @/lando.jpg Control her.

lando.jpg: Guy please, can’t we all just get along 😞😞

yourusername: how would getting along with he who should not be named, benefit me??

lando.jpg: It would make me really really happy 😁😁

yourusername: i couldnt give less of a shit about your happiness lando

oscarpiastri: See? She’s a horrible friend, me on the on the hand would never be so mean to you.

yourusername: you told lando he looks like big bird two days ago?

user5: for two people who hate each other, they sure do talk a lot…

danielricciardo: Why do they even hate each other so much? 🙄🙄

lando.jpg: Oscar spilled his drink on y/n the first time they met. He refused to apologize. she refused to forgive him.

yourusername: you forgot to mention that my shirt was $300 😐😐

oscarpiastri: FIRST OFF who in their right mind buys a 300 HUNDRED DOLLAR SHIRT???!?!? and SECOND OFF, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!! I refuse to apologize for something that wasn’t on purpose.

yourusername: this is why your mom loves me more.

oscarpiastri: She does NOT.

nicolepiastri: …

oscarpiastri: MUM????

yourusername: i know that’s right.

user6: oscar and y/n would be so cute together if they stopped being so IMMATURE

user7: they should just #kissandmakeup

user8: me patiently waiting for the enemies to lovers 🧍‍♀️

user9: you’re going to be waiting a LONG time…

charles_leclerc: I think it’s time to give up on the idea them being friends mate 😢

lando.jpg: I SAY WHEN ITS TIME

user10: charles is just sick of getting caught in the crossfire 😭

user11: OMG IM NOT THE ONLY ONCE WHO NOTICES THAT ???😭😭😭

user10: NOO I DID TOOO!! it’s like every time oscar and y/n are having a glare-off charles somehow ends up right in between them

user11: AND THEN HE JUST STANDS THERE LIKE 🧍‍♂️

maxverstappen1: Just lock them in a room and let them fight it out 🤷

lando.jpg: Wait a damn minute…

yourusername: LANDO NO.

oscarpiastri: Absolutely not.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albon, and 502,528 others!

yourusername: p2, and now movie night in max’s movie theater <33

view comments below!

user12: cutting oscar out of the photo is DIABOLICAL WORK 😭😭

user13: oh to be y/n l/n :((

user14: y/n is literally living the DREAM

user15: the way y/n made SURE you could see that she cut oscar out of the photo

yourusername; i have no idea what you’re talking about ?? 😓😓

oscarpiastri: Get off your phone and watch the movie 🙄

yourusername: stop staring and me and watch the movie 🙄

user16: clock it y/n!!!!!

landonorris: Did you really have to crop out oscar?

yourusername: yes!

user17: landos trying so hard 😞

user18: they’re all having a movie night 😞😞😞 ??

user19: I SHOULD BE THERE 💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1: This movie is so funny!!

yourusername: it’s brokeback mountain?

maxverstappen1: And it’s hilarious! 😂

user20: MAX WATCHING BROKEBACK MOUTAIN ??!?!??

user21: max thinking brokeback mountain is funny is so him ??

charles_leclerc: This movie is so sad 💔💔💔

yourusername: yeah charles we all see you crying :(

user22: charles crying over brokeback mountain is SO HIM !!

user23: is everyone just in there phones during the movie?? 😭😭

oscarpiastri: Nope! just she who should not be named 🤷

yourusername: the unoriginality is disgusting!!

maxverstappen1: I’m going to, as the kids say, expose everyone. @/oscarpiastri has not stoped staring at y/n all night.

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername hasn’t stopped staring at a photo oscar on her phone.

this comment has been deleted.

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris has eaten 2 whole pizzas.

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc is crying like a baby.

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo keeps awkwardly laughing at the worst moments.

maxverstappen1: @/georgerussell63 keeps taking photos of his abs

maxverstappen1: @/lewishamiliton is secretly wiping away his tears

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon has been whining about missing ‘his lily’ all night

maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz has gotten up to pee 10 times in the past HOUR

maxverstappen1: And @/logansargent has been hugging a teddy bear for the past 2 hours.

maxverstappen1: That’s what you ALL GET for not having MOVIE THEATER ETIQUETTE AND BEING ON YOUR PHONES.

yourusername: damn okay….

alex_albon: Can you go get me my jacket in the closet? I’m kinda cold 🥶🥶

yourusername: yeah sure? 😭

user24: something’s brewing..i can feel it.

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri Can you go get me my beanie in the closet? My ears are cold

oscarpiastri: Yeah sure

— 3 minutes later!

— 7 minutes later!

— 2 hours later!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 629,628 others!

yn.jpg: max’s door didn’t stand a chance against MY muscles 💪(ft, jimmy the cat♡♡)

view comments below!

user25: oscar in the likes?????

user26: wait a minute…

maxverstappen1: Don’t worry i won’t make you pay for it 😚

yourusername: you locked me in a room with oscar. i wasn’t paying either way.

maxverstappen1: FINE. 😒😒😒

user27: did she just…say oscar name?

user28: in the whole YEAR oscar and y/n have known each other, y/n has NEVER said his name WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

user29: something happened in that closet

landonorris: Hello, I am Lando Norris, and I would like to publicly apologize for locking my dear friends (especially Y/n) in a closet. It was stupid and inappropriate of me. I hope to gain back their forgiveness.

user30: did y/n make you do this?

landonorris: No… (yes pls help she’s locked me in my room and won’t let me out)

yourusername; i’ll let you out once you’ve learned your lesson.

oscarpiastri: Nice kitty.

yourusername: thanks!

georgerussell63: Um, what the fuck is this?

charles_leclerc: Maybe management took over Oscar’s account?

oscarpiatari: No? It’s me?

charles_leclerc: Oh! Then what the fuck is this?

user31: something DEFINITELY happened in that closet. why are oscar and y/n actually being civil????

landonorris: I don’t know but it’s scary.

yourusername: do i have to confiscate your phone too?

landonorris: No! Sorry i’m learning my lesson 😞

carlossainz: Hahaha 😂 Lando is such a loser

yourusername: do i have to take your phone to carlos? 🤨

carlossainz: NO, no i’m sorry 😔

user32: is it finally happening?…the enemies to lovers we all wanted 💔💔

user33: your telling me landos plan actually worked and y/n and oscar are being civil now ??

user34: dare i say…oscar and y/n would be a cute couple

danielricciardo: Why are you and Piastri being cool with each other?

yourusername: isn’t this what you all wanted??

danielricciardo: Yeah…I guess we did…didn’t we?

landonorris: I KNEW IT WOULD WORK!!

yourusername: you’re still in trouble, come give me your phone.

landonorris: Okay 😞

— oscarpiastri has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 727,918 others!

oscarpiastri: Second date, kinda nervous. (She taught me that)

view comments below!

landonorris: Second date and already making it instagram official? You’re so whipped 😒

oscarpiastri: Didn’t you want us to get along better?

landonorris: Yeah, GET ALONG, not GET TOGETHER 😒😒

user35: GET TOGETHER??? EXCUSE MEEEE

user36: THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!! IT HAPPNED IT FUCKING HAPPENED. FUCK EVEYONE WHO TOLD ME I WAS DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING THIS WOULD HAPPEN. GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT?? ME! I WAS!

user37: did i just step into a parallel universe where y/n and oscar are dating? because what the actual fuck is going on

maxverstappen1: 😨.

user38: SEE!! EVEN MAX IS ASTONISHED

user39; the period after the emoji is KILLING ME 😭😭

georgerussell63: Is that Y/n????? @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: No? It can’t be?

yourusername: it is

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHHH

georgerussell63: AHHHHHHHH

user39: we did it ladies and gentlemen…after one whole year, the enimies to lovers has finally happened 🥲🥲🥲

landonorris: WE??? NAH BABY ME!! ALL ME!!

yourusername: heart heart

maxverstappen1: 🤨

lewishamilton: 🤨

georgerussell63: 🤨

landonorris: 🤨

logansargent: 🤨

charles_leclerc: 🤨

schecoperez: 🤨

danielricciardo: 🤨

carlossainz: 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: 🤨

fernadoalonso: 🤨

totowolff: 🤨

mclaren: 🤨

yourusername: OMG HE BOUGHT ME A REPLICA OF THE SHIRT HE RUINED, I FORGAVE HIM OKAY???

user40: only the seconds date and he’s already posting her?? oh he’s obsessed.

oscarpiastri: Well, yes!

user41: 3 days ago they hated each other so much ??? what happened ???

yourusername: i’m a really good kisser

user42: DO YOU GUYS TGINK THEY KISSED IN THE CLOSET???

user43: maybe we do have lando to thank…

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff

533 notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 20 hours

Text

mami v mama

getting your daughter to sleep through the night proves difficult... mostly for alexia. little mila blurb :) brief mention of anxiety, no other warnings!

-------

It wasn’t even the baby crying that woke you up. It was the quiet sniffles and whimpers from next to you in bed that really woke up. You were expecting Mila to cry; sleep training her was going… rather roughly. It was difficult, because sometimes there would be long stretches where she would sleep through the night, and other times there would be weeks on end that she’d wake up throughout the night. The baby was going through a sleep regression at the moment, though, which restarted the conversation about sleep training. She was already 8 months, and well past ready for it, but you’d been met with resistance. Not just from Mila, but also from Alexia.

You knew it went against every single one of your wife’s instincts to let Mila cry it out. It felt that way for you, too, but you were a much heavier sleeper, and for some reason, much more convinced that sleep training was the way to go. Alexia had many hesitations. The biggest of which was that if her baby cried for her, she was going to comfort her.

So, waking up to crying wasn’t new. Waking up to Alexia crying, though? That was new.

“Love?” You asked groggily, rolling over to face your wife, who was staring up at the ceiling with tears streaming down her face. You didn’t really process the crying coming from the baby monitor, much too concerned with why your stoic wife was in pieces next to you, in the middle of the night. Alexia only let out a soft cry in response, one not unlike the sound your daughter made.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you cooed, allowing Alexia to roll into you and sob roughly into your chest. She shook her head, not giving you an answer. “Tell me, what is it?” You pressed.

“She sounds so sad,” Alexia cried. Realization washed over you, and you shut your eyes tightly for a minute, not proud of the annoyance that washed over you. This process could have been done already if it hadn’t been for Alexia’s insistence to bring Mila to sleep in your bed any time she cried.

“I know, Ale. She’s okay, though. She’ll fall back asleep soon.” You soothed, carding your fingers through her hair in a manor you hoped was comforting.

“No, she needs me.” Alexia complained, looking up at you with a pout that, again, really resembled your daughter’s. You fought back a smile at the sight, stroking her cheek delicately.

“She’s fine. She’s old enough for this, Alexia. She has to learn how to self-soothe.”

Alexia frowned at you. “She doesn’t. It’s unnecessary, I will always be there to soothe my baby.” Alexia knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. All the little cries radiating from the baby monitor were making her feel like she was being stabbed repeatedly.

“Alexia,” you sighed. Maybe it was the hour of the night, or maybe it was the emotions your wife was feeling, but your words sounded condescending to her. She didn’t appreciate that. Being so emotional was new to her, and she was still self conscious about it, and this felt like you were making fun of her for it. She rolled off of you, refusing to meet your gaze.

“I do not understand how this is so easy for you.” Alexia said accusingly.

And maybe because you were exhausted, you took that in a worse way than Alexia intended. “Yes, Alexia, it is SO easy for me to hear my baby cry for me, and not go to her. Don’t be ridiculous.” You bit back.

“Well, it seems easier.” Alexia scoffed.

“It seems easier because one of us has to put their foot down about this, and it’s clearly not going to be you. I’m doing what’s best for Mila.”

“And I am not. You are the perfect mother, with all the right opinions, and I am wrong about everything.” Alexia exaggerated, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. It was a low blow; Alexia knew that you felt like far from the perfect mother, and it felt like she was throwing that in your face.

A few tears stung your eyes, and you shook your head, moving to slide out of the bed. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.” You mumbled startling slightly when a large arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back.

“No, no please stay. I am sorry, so sorry. I am just upset, I did not mean any of that. Please, please stay.” Alexia pleaded, and something in her tone, something more than sincerity, had you turning around and looking carefully at your wife. You should have seen it before, that she wasn’t just upset about this. In your defense, she had promised to be better about telling you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, although you knew, placing a gentle hand on Ale’s cheek.

She breathed deeply for a few seconds before she spoke. “I am anxious.” She admitted, voice barely audible. “I cannot fall asleep, and it just gets worse and worse every time she wakes up and cries, I feel like I am going to throw up.”

“Ale,” you sighed, seeing for the first time how pale your wife looked, how unsteady. “Are you going to be sick?” It wouldn’t be the first time. Alexia hadn't ever experienced anxiety like this in her life, and was horrified the first time it happened. The first time Mila got a little cold, and Alexia worked herself up so much that she made herself sick. She was so embarrassed, even as you reassured her that it was a completely normal symptom of anxiety. It had only happened a few times since, but Alexia always got so teary and emotional when it happened.

She shook her head though, taking another deep breath. “¿Puedo tener un abrazo, por favor?”

“Of course you can.” You told her, sliding off the bed and standing with your arms open on the side of it, knowing it was Alexia’s favorite way to hug you. It made her feel smaller than you, made her feel protected and safe. Alexia scooted over right away, wrapping her arms tightly around you, her head pressed against your chest. “Mila is okay, baby. She’s fine, she’s getting quieter, sí?”

That didn’t seem to make Alexia feel better, though, her breathing picking up again as she tilted her head up, and rested her chin on your chest.

“Can I please go check on her?” Alexia asked shakily. You didn’t want it to be like this; good cop bad cop. Alexia asking you permission to do things. She was just as much her mother as you were, and if Alexia needed to check on her, that was always going to be okay. You knew your wife wouldn’t relax until she saw that the baby was okay.

“Go get her, bring her back here.” You said, smiling to yourself when Alexia practically ran from the room. You heard her over the monitor entering the room, and you melted a little at how soft she sounded.

“Hola mi princesa, estás bien, estás bien. Te tengo mi bebe, te tengo.” Alexia cooed. You could hear the moment she picked Mila up, the baby’s cries instantly quieting as she snuggled close to her mami. “Te amo, te amo, te amo, te amo,” Alexia repeated, her voice fading from the monitor as she walked back towards the bedroom.

Mila was practically already asleep when Alexia walked back into the room with her, and you resisted the urge to point out that she was probably only a few minutes away from falling asleep herself. Alexia didn't need that right now.

Your wife slid back onto the bed, laying Mila on her chest, fixing you with a sheepish smile as she did so.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. Alexia nodded, though she avoided your eyes and her face burned red. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have been so harsh earlier. I know this is hard for you, I should have been more understanding. I’m sorry this makes you so nervous.”

“I am sorry too. I was not kind to you, I was just very upset.” Alexia explained, absentmindedly rubbing one large hand over Mila’s back. The baby was wearing a onesie with footballs all over it, and she looked so snuggly and adorable laid on your wife, it was hard to focus on Alexia’s words. “I do not want to be a… helicopter parent. Sometimes I get so scared, though, I just need to know she is okay.”

“That makes sense, Ale, that’s okay. I just need to know when you’re anxious and you need to see her, and when you’re just upset that she’s upset.”

“I can do that.” Alexia said. “I just… I love her so much. Look at her, amor. She is so perfect.”

You both looked down at the baby, who was sitting up under the gaze of you both. She slid off Alexia, plopping down in between the two of you, a gummy smile on her face.

“Hi my baby,” you cooed, completely and utterly distracted from the conversation you’d been having with your wife. Mila sighed, flopping down until her head was resting on your pillow, though her face was turned towards Alexia. “You see your Mami?” You asked, not really expecting any kind of response.

Alexia turned on her side, grinning at her daughter. “Hola Milabear,” she whispered, booping the baby on her nose. Mila giggled, a sound that made you both melt into a puddle. Alexia reached out and grabbed her, easily lifting the baby up into the air and flying her around, making airplane sounds.

“Alexia, it is supposed to be bedtime.” You admonished, though you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face as Mila continued to giggle, and your wife continued to look so light and happy.

“We are having Mila and Mami time, amor, I cannot interrupt.” Alexia said, bringing the baby down to kiss her nose every few seconds. “Mila and Mami.” She whispered again, finally laying Mila back down on her chest. Her hand stroked over the back of the baby’s head, trying to calm the now very awake child down.

“Mmmm,” Mila hummed, squirming around in Alexia's grasp until she was sat up on top of your wife, staring down at her. “Mmmm. Mami.” She babbled, catching one of Alexia’s fingers and trying to drag it into her mouth.

“What?” Alexia said, her face completely stricken with surprise.

“Maaaami,” Mila sang again, giggling at the silly look on her Mami’s face.

“Amor!” Alexia shouted, glancing ecstatically at you while sitting up suddenly and holding Mila up so the baby was at eye level with her. Evidently, the abrupt action startled Mila, and she immediately burst into tears. “No, no no no. I am sorry mi niña, I did not mean to scare you.” Alexia soothed, pulling Mila in and rocking her back and forth soothingly.

“Mami,” Mila whimpered sadly, hiding her face in your wife’s shirt. Alexia was in tears, too, but had the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, staring at you in wonder.

“She said my name.” She murmured, almost looking confirmation that she wasn’t having some kind of auditory hallucination.

“She did.” You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers through Mila’s short curls.

“I can’t believe she said my name first.” Alexia continued, holding the baby to her in a way that made you doubt whether she would ever let go.

“Me neither. I carry her for 9 months, get my body cut open so she can be born, and this is how she repays me?” You joked, not really caring at all that Mila had chosen Alexia’s name to be her first word.

“I’m sorry, amor. We’ve been practicing, but we practice your name too, I promise.” Alexia said worriedly, her eyes scanning your face for any hint that you were being serious.

You laughed at how concerned she was, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I’m kidding, Ale. You are a great Mami, and Mila is very lucky to have you. Which I think she knows.” You nodded your head to where the baby had fisted Alexia’s sleep shirts in her tiny hands, her eyes sliding shut as she nuzzled in close to Ale’s chest

Alexia blushed hard, her face turning bright red. “I am more lucky to have her and you both.” She mumbled, somehow allergic to taking compliments when it came to being a good mother. You shook your head, laying back down on the bed and pulling Alexia to join you. Only when you were both resting against your pillows, Mila passed out in between you, did you reply.

Pressing your forehead to your wifes, you poured all your love and admiration into your words. “We are the most lucky to have you, Alexia. You are the best wife, and the best Mami, and I love you very much.”

If possible, Alexia blushed even harder, nudging her face into the crook of your neck. “I love you.” Her words were muffled, but you could feel her sincerity.

You sighed happily, thinking that you’d be content to stay right here, with both your girls, forever.

------

this won the poll after like an hour and i was too impatient to wait any longer so i hope this doesn't disappoint :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader

642 notes · View notes

sevsdollette · 2 days

Text

thinking about ellie when she’s angry. i think I cooked on this one.

contains: mentions of injuries. a little bit of arguing. smut (giving ellie head, fingering (r-recieving), heavy making out, choking, tribbing)

MDNI and men get away!!

it’s been a rough day around jackson. there was a swarm of infected running around in the woods—attacked some people you and ellie knew. they all came back okay, but situations were high-strung. you and ellie had been out the whole day searching, killing, and surviving.

your scout groups were separated. you spent the whole day wondering where your girlfriend was and what was going on with this strange zombie hoard. but, still, you had to stay focused on your own tasks.

at the end of the day, when the sun was setting over the thick forest, you came back to jackson with your mind set on finding ellie.

her group had returned an hour before and all of them looked a little beat up.

you walked through the stables, seeing them by the aid station. one of them had a large bandage casted around his leg and was walking on crutches. another was holding a bloody tissue to his face. a couple more had stray bandages wrapped around their limbs.

you didn’t see ellie at first and your blood froze. your mind told you the worst. ellie was always one to act like a hero. you hated it, but it was who she was.

then she came out from around the corner. from the looks of it, she was fine. but you could tell there was peril behind her eyes. she had this wild, panicked look of a woman still high on adrenaline.

her hair was pulled back and off her neck. her flannel was stained and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. one of her leather boots was caked in mud and the other had a tear in the toe, revealing its steel. she had a hard grimmace, eyes scanning over every person from her squad that was sat against the wall.

you rushed over, dropping your pack and wrapping your arms around her neck.

she stumbled back before embracing you quickly. “hey, babe, you alright?” she asked

“yeah, are you?” you let go and stood back. maybe you had missed where the injury was.

she purses her loops, looking down the hall of the stable in thought. maybe she hadn’t heard you. her brow was furrowed and her jaw clenched tight.

“ellie?”

she blinked rapidly and shook her head. “what, baby?”

your face tensed. “are you okay,” you repeated.

“yeah, yeah.” she brushed you off, stepping back. “i didn’t get hurt. i’m fine.”

“ellie—“

“why don’t you,” she began, taking your wrist as you tried to touch her face. “go home. i’ll see you there in a little bit. i just have to handle taking care of my crew.”

“well, i could help you—“

“go home,” she pleaded. “just go home.”

you shifted back, biting the inside of your cheek. she hadn’t even been looking at you. her ever frantic mind was too occupied to give you the time.

fine, you thought, picking your pack back up and walking out of the stables.

you went home. where else was these to go? you slammed through the door, tossing your pack wherever it wanted to land, and stormed upstairs.

part of you wanted your anger to be directed at ellie, but really you were just frustrated. you were mad at the situation. why did today have to be so shitty? your scout mission hadn’t even been too stressful. you shot down one stalker and everything was quiet.

but ellie must’ve been through the ringer. she hadn’t even told you what happened but you could assume bad enough. it wasn’t normal for her to treat you like that.

you took a deep breath as you undressed and got into some clean clothes. the house was too quiet when she wasn’t home. such a secluded town made an eerily silent world when one was alone. it almost made you feel like you were back out in those woods

you went back downstairs and sat in the living room. you wanted something to occupy yourself. maybe read a book or listen to a record, but you couldn’t get your feet to work to bring you to the bookshelf or record player.

just as you were about to retreat to bed, ellie came clamoring through the door.

her pack was slung over her shoulder, she had her rifle tucked in the crook of her elbow, and her shoe was untied. her eyes stuck to the floor as she tried to walk without tripping.

“hey,” you hurried, walking over to take the pack off her back. she muttered a thank you and went to the counter to put her gun down. you stood in silence as she kicked off her boots and ran a hand through her messy hair.

she bit her lip, peeling away the dry skin. her hands were perched on her hips and she stared at the floor. it took you a second to see that her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were glassed over.

you pulled her into an embrace and this time she returned it. she took a large breath, hiding her face into your shoulder as her hands on your back pressed you close. a moment later, you could feel her tears staining your skin. she was silent but shaking.

you smoothed your fingers through her hair and took it out of its tie. “what happened?”

she shook her head, hiding her face further. muffled against your collar, you heard her say, “i thought i was gonna lose them all.”

you shushed her as the tears broke her more. “come upstairs,” you wished. “clean yourself up and rest.”

after a minute, she let you go and you led her up. she showered as you tidied the bed and turned off some of the lights. after a while, you realized she was probably just standing in the shower, staring at the tile wall.

a lot of her hours were spent blankly staring and thinking. for such a young woman she had too much in her mind. everyone did, living in this world. you surely had your share of bad days. but everything seemed to hit ellie harder.

there was no clock in your bedroom, but you assumed she was in there for half an hour. when she came out, she quickly dressed in a hoodie and sweats but didn’t get into bed.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up.

she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “i just can’t sleep right now.”

“well, why don’t you lay down and try? you’ve had a long day, i’ll help you relax.”

she continued to shake her head. “no.”

“ellie, i just think you should get some rest. why don’t you tell me what happened—“

“i don’t—“ she snapped. her face soured into anger and she clenched her jaw. “i don’t want to go to sleep or talk about it.”

she didn't take her time leaving. the bedroom door was shut behind her before you could think of something else to say. you could hear her stomping down the stairs. a moment later, she was creeking the floorboards of the back porch.

she was smoking again. you told her a thousand times to stop with the cigarettes. it was a nasty habit that would kill her faster than a bloater. she always turned to it when she was stressed and it was difficult to pry it out of her fingers.

you got out of bed and went downstairs. you had no plan in your head to deal with the situation, but something told you to act on instinct.

she was in fact sitting on the back deck, nursing a hand-rolled cigarette. in the dark backyard you could see the burning embers more than her distressed face. when you opened up the screen door she winced and looked away from you, blowing smoke out into the night air.

“i don’t need you yelling at me right now,” she bit, putting the cigarette back between her chapped lips and taking a long drag. “just go to bed.”

“i’m not here to yell at you.” you walked over slowly and stood beside her. you shifted, leaned down to grab her chin and tilt her head up to look at you.

her wide, pouting eyes were pitiful. she stared up at you like she had nothing else in the world. perhaps a part of her was trying to be upset at you, but more of her needed you.

you sighed and whispered her name, leaning in to kiss her.

she was needy. with your lips, you nearly pulled her up out of her seat so she could stay close to you. her hands were grasping at your jaw, dragging you back down to her.

you held yourself propped up on the arms of the chair, hanging over her as her desperate kisses broke you. she was practically whining and begging to have more of you. her hands slid over your shoulders and under the collar of your t-shirt.

you led your kisses lower, sliding your teeth over her neck to make her stutter. she gripped your shoulders to steady herself as you sucked a dark mark on the curve of her neck. she sighed and leaned her head back to give all of herself to you.

“you need to relax," you cooed, whispering in her ear. “you’ve had a bad day, baby, i know. just let me help you, okay?”

she pursed her lips and nodded quickly, meeting your eyes. her pupils were blown and she watched in awe as you got on your knees in front of her. you slid your hands up her thighs to tease the edge of her waistband. her cigarette was long forgotten as she stared down at you with wide eyes and parted lips.

you kissed her clothed thigh and smiled.

she was breathless, staring down at you with her mouth agape. with a nervous, light laugh she looked around the backyard and stuttered. “shit, babe. people—someone could see or hear—“

“then don’t let them.” you snapped. pulling at the tie of her sweatpants. that seemed to shut her up enough.

your backyard was fenced in and had a border of thick trees. someone could only see the two of you if they were trying to. but surely they could hear ellie if they stepped outside. she had a cute habit of not being able to control herself.

you pulled both her pants and boxers down at the same time. just enough so you could spread her legs and dip your head down into her cunt. she eagerly helped you, fighting the elastic to make sure you had enough access.

this was no night to make her wait.

you kissed up her slit, letting her get just an idea of how it felt, before sliding your tongue through her folds.

she moaned and let her head fall back. you smiled against her, exhaling to tease. your tongue flicked against her pearl, having her nearly slip off the chair, and you kept going.

you rolled your lips over her sensitive bud, sucking it into your mouth and then kissing her. you were slow and loving, giving attention to every inch of her. your hands massaged circles into her upper thighs, urging them to spread as much as they could. she would've been a fool not to listen.

she had her hand gripping the top of your head and moving it how she wanted. part of her force was trying to push you further down to hide you, but more of it was getting leverage to rock her hips and fuck your face.

she was stuttering in her act to play it cool. her elbow rested on the arm rest, hands clasped over her mouth as she forced her eyes to keep from rolling back. a heavy blush had spread across her face and her legs were shaking. they squeezed around your head as you sucked her clit into your mouth.

with the extravagance of her reactions, you knew she needed this. every tense bone and muscle in her body was relaxing. you reached up under her sweatshirt with one hand to massage her tit. you rolled your finger over her nipple, feeling it pebble as you rolled it between your fingers.

she bit her lip and whined, rocking her hips faster as her hand fell from her mouth to grip the chair. she still held your head close and steady, flinching and moaning every time you took her clit in between your lips.

"fuck, baby, don't stop," she cried. she lost her breath. "please, don't stop."

her whiny voice sent pleasure down to your core. you were growing wet in your own underwear, pressing your thighs together as you kept your steady but rougher pace.

your eyes flicked up to look at her blushing, freckled face. she looked down and met your eyes, and that was it for her. she cried out, tugging at your hair and pressing her cunt against your face to ride out her orgasm.

you guided her through her high, smoothing your hands over her hips and thighs to ease her down from her bliss.

her lips and face were rosy. she took a deep breath, sighing contently as you bit her inner thigh and licked over the mark.

you rested your head on her leg as she ran her fingers through your hair. she was staring out at the trees, still recovering while you smiled to yourself and drew small shapes on her skin.

"ellie," you whispered, giggling. "you okay?"

she nodded and brushed the hair off your forehead. she looked down at you. "let's go upstairs."

you jumped up and grabbed her hand to pull her with you. she was already on you, chasing you to the back door. she caught you just before and pushed you against the wall.

her lips were on yours before you could think. she roughly grabbed your hips, slamming them back before pushing hers into you. you moaned against her lips, dizzy and weak.

her hand fumbled beside you, opening the back door. when it swung open, she rushed to push you in. she had to get you inside. it was consuming her. her vision tunneled on your body as she followed you through the living room and up the stairs. you were stumbling over each other and you got into the bedroom.

she swung the door shut behind her and grabbed you again. everything was happening so fast you could hardly remember where you were standing when she kissed you. she was frantic and rough, grabbing your ass to pull you against her and squeezing to get a moan out of you.

it was a blur of her desperation. one second you had your shirt on, the next, you didn't. your bra, pants, and panties were quick to be tossed aside. she was stripping too and soon she was throwing you into bed and crawling on top.

she was panting, staring down at your face laid perfectly on the pillows. you were dazed, looking up at her with waiting eyes. naked together, you always lost all sense and could only focus on her.

her body folded against yours as you made out. her tongue was tasting every part of your mouth as your breasts pressed to hers. she slid her thigh between your legs and moaned into your lips when she felt how wet you were.

she hummed. "ready for me already?"

you moaned in response, cradling her jaw to draw her back to kissing you. she tasted like heaven. she was getting sloppier, kissing you like she'd never have another chance. her teeth slid over you bottom lip and bit down enough for you to flinch.

you dragged your hands down her chest while she led hers lower. she was rocking your hips against her thigh, getting all of your slick across her skin as she just barely stimulated you. she wanted to tease you. watching you whine and beg was what got her off.

she kissed your neck as she humped her leg against you. with every drag of her hips you get closer and closer to screaming at her to touch you. that was what she wanted.

"ellie..." you sighed. she bit on the sensitive spot of your neck and you lost all your words. for now, that seemed to be enough for her to do what you wanted.

she moved her leg and dipped her fingers between your folds. your slick was enough for her digits to slide inside of you with ease. you moaned and pressed your head into the pillows. ellie stared down at you, watching every reaction as her fingers curled into your cunt.

you wrapped your legs around her and she leaned back down to kiss you. it was useless as every other kiss was interrupted with your whines. she nipped at your lips and went back to your neck as she fucked her fingers into you. she was hitting that sweet, spongy spot every time. she had your legs shaking and nearly falling off of her.

she bit at you ear lobe. "you're gonna take everything I give you, yeah?"

you moaned and nodded. her voice could've been enough to make you cum.

"good."

her other hand moved up and wrapped around your neck. she pressed and held you down into the mattress. she used the leverage to put pressure on your neck and lean back, fingering you rougher now.

you gasped and struggled for breath. it was embarrassing how another wave of pleasure surged to your core as you struggled to breathe.

"today was really fucking shitty, baby, but you're making it all so much better." she tightened her grip and you dizzied. your fingers felt fuzzy and your eyes prickled with tears. "I really, really love watching you like this. you're so pretty when you're gasping, princess."

she was taking her anger out on you. everything she wanted to do to those infected she was doing to you. hell, she could've killed you now if she wanted to. she had you at her mercy, your cunt squeezing around her fingers and your hands gripping her wrist.

any attempt at speaking was lost in your lungs. her fingers curved and fucked you at just the right spot to get you close to your orgasm. she could tell just by the squeezing of you legs around her hips.

she brought her thumb up to rub circles over your clit. "come on. cum for me, sweetheart."

you choked out a moan, eyes rolling back as your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure. she kept her fingers hitting that same perfect spot as you saw stars and clawing at her arm. it all lasted enough to make your vision spotty and your cunt clench around her digits.

she released you gently and rubbed the sore skin where she had held you. you took that long breath you had been needing and blinked the tears out of your eyes. she hummed and kissed you cheek, rubbing your thigh. "you alright, baby?"

you took another long breath and nodded. she smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth, adjusting your legs.

before you'd fully recovered, she was hooking one of your legs around her and moving one of hers over your other. she dipped close and rested her core just above yours.

she slid her folds over yours, finding the right spot to have her clit rubbing against yours. you cried from the overstimulation, gripping her shoulders and digging your nails into her back.

she stared down at the joining of your bodies, rolling her hips over and over again to feel your bud hit hers.

she had one hand holding your thigh and the other arm propped on her elbow beside your head. her face was hot and blushed, lips parted as she moaned softly and breathed heavily.

your eyes pinched shut as the pleasure turned from too much to just what you needed.

she was focusing on her needs. she was using you as a fuck toy to get herself off. that should not have made you as wet as it did. but you pushed your hips up to meet hers, matching her rhythm. you had her biting her lip and sinking her head to your collar.

both of you were overstimulated and close. her legs were shaking, trying to hold her up as she drew herself closer to orgasm. she upped her pace, harshly fucking her cunt against yours. you could hear her whispering vague words but they were lost in your skin. she was unreachable, chasing her high as she led you to yours as well.

"cum with me, baby," she muttered, "please, I need it." her words cut off into a moan as you led your hand down to squeeze her ass. with your hand encouraging her hips, she screamed and came. in her frantic search for pleasure, she brought you to finish and you came with her.

you both were a heaving, blissful mess of easing down from your climaxes. ellie collapsed on top of you, resting her head on your shoulder and rubbing your waist.

your hands found her hair and you ran your fingers through it. your chest heaved and fell with every recovering breath. you stared at the ceiling, unsure of how the night turned around so quickly.

what was once a lust-filled room was now one of comfort and silence. you lay together for eternity, you stroking her hair and her leaving light kisses on your collarbone.

eventually, she climbed off of you to clean up, coming back to wipe you off. when she was done, she got back into bed with you and you held her. her body curved into yours and you could tell she had shut her eyes.

"i love you," you muttered, kissing the back of her neck.

she sighed. "i love you too. and I'm sorry."

you shushed her. "everything's okay, baby. just go to sleep now."

she nodded, burying her face into her pillow.

note: sorry for not posting, i was on vacation and we had no wifi :( anyway, i love love love ellie. and to my friend who was on vacation with me and watched me write this, you slay hope you liked it. i also hope your phone is fixed.

tag list:

@archangeldyke-all, @cacston, @sevsarm, @sevsbaby @maneskinwh0re

@orangepeelz1324

#fanfic #fanfiction #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie smut #ellie fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou part 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou smut

440 notes · View notes

tayytayy12 · 2 days

Text

Once I fix me, he’s gonna miss me | LN4 x singer!reader

DR3 x Exgf!reade

Summary - After a messy breakup with Daniel reader releases a new album, but no one expects the random love song at the end of it, and they certainly didn’t expect it to be about Daniel’s friend and ex-teammate.

Warnings - Cheating mentioned, swearing, villain Daniel (for the request I love Danny Ric)

FaceClaim - Gracie Abrams

Requested - Yes

Notes - Please give me the benefit of the doubt for some spelling errors, it’s not my strong suite 😭

Yourusername

Liked by - YukiTsunoda22, TaylorSwift, SabrinaCarpenter, and 5,653,773 others

Yourusername - I’m back, and I’m bringing you a gift to apologise for being away for so long 🤍 my brand new album, ‘My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys’ is out tomorrow, you’ll hear more from me then. I love you 💕

View comments

User1 - Y/N OMFG AHHHH

User2 - I CANT WAIT A WHOLE NEW ALBUM TOMORROW WHAT.

User3 - ITS ONLY BEEN 4 MONTHS

User4 - This shit looks sad

User5 - Daniel did some fucked up shit in their relationship 😭

User6 - Hoe wdym ‘My boy only breaks his favourite toys’

User7 - Is everyone forgetting Daniel’s favourite bar in Australia is called ‘the black dog’

User8 - He fucked up big time

User9 - Fr, how do you cheat on THEE y/n y/l/n?

User10 - Daniel’s teammate in the likes shows that even the grid don’t agree w how he treated our girl 😭

User11 - Stop making him a villain okay, he didn’t know what he was doing.

User12 - Daniel, and thirty four year old man, didn’t know what he was doing when he controlled, belittled and public cheated on Y/n, a TWENTY THREE year old girl? He knew what he was doing, you can’t defend him anymore.

SabrinaCarpenter - You even look pretty when you’re sad

Liked by author

Yourusername

Liked by - JackAntanoff, MaxVerstappen1 and 6,545,720 others

Tagged | @/AaronDessner, @/JackAntanoff

Yourusername - My god where do I even start? This album is everything and more to me, really. The last year of my life writing these songs has been my escape from my reality, one that I really didn’t want to be a part of, but it was also one that I didn’t know how to escape, and when I finally did I didn’t know how to let go of all the pain I’d kept with me in that time. So, I picked up my pen and let it do the talking. This is my first album where every song is written solely by me, but of course I had the help of my soulmate collaborators, jack and Aaron to produce and do their magic. The pair of them helped me, along with someone special showed me that what I felt was okay, and valid. These songs are my most unfiltered and my most vulnerable, this is not an album that has been made for the general public. This one is one I made with only you, my biggest supporters and myself in mind. I’m forever grateful of how I’m able to trust you with my feelings without any fear. I love you, and I hope you live this album like I do, or it could help you like it did me. Just remember, you’re not alone in your feelings 🤍

‘My boy only brakes his favourite toys’ is all yours now, all eighteen tracks about my coping mechanisms, and one about how there’s happiness after heartbreak… 🤍

View comments

JackAntanoff - You’re a living legend 🫡

Yourusername - That’s all you New Jersey

User13 - What. The. Fuck. This. Album. Has. Killed. Me.

User14 - I’m sorry but wtfdym miss Y/n Y/l/n has a song where she says the word ‘I’ll get older but your lover stay my age’

User15 - All too well killed me

User16 - I love how you can just tell what songs were produced by jack and what by Aaron

User17 - ‘I know it won’t work’ is so heart wrenching istg no one speak to me

User18 - I’m its biggest stan

User19 - WHERE DID THIS HOE FIND MY DIARY WHEN WRITING THE PROPHECY ?!??!!??

User20 - Because I liked a boy is so superior, like she finally addressed what Daniel’s ‘fans’ put her through at the start of their relationship

User21 - ‘Say it once again with feeling, how the death rattle breathing silenced as the soul was leaving, the deflation of our dreaming, leaving me breathed and reeling, my beloved ghost and me, sitting in a tree d-y-i-n-g’

User22 - How did it end is so superior

User23 - Y/n could write Romeo and Juliet but Shakespeare couldn’t write this bridge

User24 - PAY FOR MY THERAPY

User25 - Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years, will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it. And I'll say, "Good riddance". 'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden. I would've died for your sins. Instead, I just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won't get time

User26 - The smallest man who ever lives reigns supreme on this album

User27 - NONE OF YOU HOES TALKING ABOUT CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT?

User28 - FR WTFDYM THERES THIS WHOLE SAD ASS ALBUM THEN JUST THE BEST LOVE SONG Y/N HAS EVER WRITTEN

User29 - I NEED TO KNOW WHO THE HELL ITS ABOUT

Yourusername - And who is my man? that’s one secret I’ll never tell.

User30 - HOE YOU WATCH TOO MUCH GOSSIP GIRL

LandoNorris

Liked by - Yourusername, Charles_ Leclerc and 2,536,639 others

LandoNorris - Week off shenanigans, I’m still the biggest Y/n Y/l/n fan. New albums great btw 🫡

View comments

User31 - Everyone is a Y/n fan

User32 - WHO ARE THOSE FLOWERS FOR HELLO

User33 - he has taste with call it what you want AND feather

User34 - he made it CLEAR he’s team Y/n

User35 - Thought Daniel was your friend..?

User36 - Everyone ignoring the boyfriend Lando pic

Yourusername - Thanks for the streams 🫡

LandoNorris - no problem 😌

Yourusername

Liked by - LandoNorris, Lilymhe and 2,726,637 others

Tagged | @/landonorris

Yourusername - Turns out I’m physically unable to do a soft launch so, THIS IS MY BOYFRIEND LANDO AINT HE ADORABLE

View comments

User37 - What the fuck

User38 - OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

User39 - I’m in love with them already what

User40 - Y/n you’re truly an icon

User41 - THE PHOTOS OMG THEYRE ADORABLE 😭

DanielRicciardo - wow.

User42 - GET YOUR STINKY ASS OUT OF HERE WE DONT WANT YOU LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE

User43 - This is his karma

LandoNorris - You’re cute

Yourusername - Stop I’m blushing.

User44 - Obsessed.

LandoNorris

Liked by - Yourusername, OscarPiastri and 2,644,646 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername

LandoNorris - Lol stay mad, should’ve treated her better when you had her.

I love you so much, and I’m going to treat you that way 🤍

View comments

User45 - LMAOOOO

Yourusername - My god I love you

LandoNorris - I love you so much more

———————

606 notes · View notes

saturngas · 2 days

Text

sloppy head while watching tv

[🪐] you give a sloppy blowjob to your boyfriend just because

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: established relationship; size kink; a little bit of oral fixation; dirty talk; ball play; me dedicating two paragraphs to describing this man's pretty cock;

word count: 2.3k

beaming light came from the tv, giving a cozy setting to the living room. your boyfriend was wearing his pitch black glasses since his very sensitive eyes would be burning from the radiance.

your legs were sprawled out and tangled with satoru´s on the cushiony lovesac couch, you on top of his strong body. heavy, strong arms were wrapped around your waist while one of his large hands was stroking the exposed skin of your low back. your head rested on his hard chest while his chin laid on top of your head, your soft locks tickling his jawline.

the movie was once interesting, until a scene where the main male character was stripping off his clothes to start his training arc made you a bit warm in the inside. the actor wasn't your celebrity crush or anything in particular, but seeing his strong built body kind of reminded you of the godlike boyfriend you had beneath you.

after said scene, you couldn't keep your hands off satoru´s body. and of course he appreciated all your undivided attention on him, humming at every given touch. satoru even felt relived that actor knocked some sense into you so you would touch him. the way he would always be touch starved with you is indescribable.

your eyes were on the tv but your mind was getting high from the mere touch of your hands on satoru´s warm skin underneath his oversized sweater. hard mountains of pecs adorning his chest while strong abs would flex at your touch. he looked so good the moment he stepped out of the bathroom after a shower with his casual clothes already on.

his black uniform complemented his pale skin and snowy hair so well, along with the black blindfold, but when he changed for casual clothing, you could feel heat rushing to your core. being his girlfriend granted these heavenly views whenever you would be at home or going out for a date. satoru liked looking good. he was one for fashion. he had never mentioned something about it to you, but you knew he was picky with his outfits, always wanting everything to match and make out a nice looking aesthetic. he once was so troubled a new pair of navy blue pants didn't suit with a stylish jacket he already owned.

you would always tell him he looked handsome as well. and oh how flustered he would get. even after years of being together, he wasn't really used to your compliments. he loved your words of affirmation. even though satoru loved talking so high about himself—he was very aware of the man he was—, his cheeks would burn at any given praised from anyone, especially you.

one of your hands started exploring his back muscles while the other stayed on the front, roaming through his well-built abs. a single finger tracing his linea alba between his abs until stopping at the hem of his sweatpants. you heard the white haired man's breath sharpen at your sudden stop, the hand stroking at your lower back aiming to your bum; long fingers tracing the outline of your ass over your leggings.

still your hands wouldn't stop teasing his sensitive skin, his confirmations to keep going being his low hums buzzing from his chest. your smile turned into a smirk the moment you heard a whimper coming from his parted lips as your hand finally trespassed his sweatpants and underwear, going for the big prize. his hand grabbed a handful of your ass while his free hand went to your hair, caressing your scalp.

"oh baby..." he whimpered as your delicate fingers wrapped around his hardening cock. "don't start something you can't finish." there he was with his snarky comments even when he was in the lower position. you looked up to see his blushing face. rosy lips parted slightly to let out short hot breaths while his forehead was glittering with fresh sweat.

the hand that was previously on his back flew to his face to take of his rectangular glasses, tossing them somewhere in the room. his baby blue eyes were half lidded, a dark blue molding in the depths of his irises, a signal of his growing lust for you.

"it's okay, my angel boy," one hand stroking up and down his large cock as the other caressed lovingly the side of his face. "im sure I'll finish this." you said smugly, turning your boyfriend on even more. his dick twitched at your words and that was your cue to move your hand quicker, pressing lightly at his head, making satoru let out a loud moan, gripping your ass tighter this time.

your lips collapsed with his in a passionate kiss. your tongues danced desperately at the intense feeling of arousal invading your bodies. satoru hummed in the kiss, sending vibrations down your throat. his wet tongue explored the insides of your mouth while your hand stroked him vigorously, his gooey pre-cum coating your entire hand. satoru couldn't stop kissing you, devouring your mouth with his own. heat driving his primal instincts to the limit.

you broke the kiss to place brief pecks down his neck, stopping slightly only to nibble at the pale skin. a sudden sense of possessiveness traveled up your body all the way to your mouth, leaving wet red marks on his collarbones. you raised his sweatshirt to tickle his nipples with your lips, sucking at them. your tongue danced desperately around his hardened bud while the hand that was on his pretty face moved to keep wandering off his strong body. the tall man moaned quietly while tightening his hold in your nape and ass. your lips left his titties with a loud pop, admiring your work in the form of rosy and bruised nipples. your mouth then proceeded to trace wet kisses down his chest and torso, sucking at the skin of his abs. oh how you loved them.

the hand showering his cock with attention left its place to quickly disregard of his pants and boxers, only lowering them enough to give yourself great access to his beautiful cock and heavy balls.

time was not wasted as you hold his long cock from the base. goodness. how you loved this pretty cock. satoru was truly blessed by the gods with such attractive physique, he had nothing to feel self-conscious about. his dick was the same tone as his skin; his head being noticeably rosier, almost mimicking the color of his pretty lips. you admired his long member, your eyes tracing each vein, accentuating on a particular one that ran from his pretty base to his head. you could've swear you have felt that exact vein caressing your wet walls when your boyfriend would thrust into you slowly enough to feel every inch of him. you pussy clenched around nothing at the thought.

his corpus spongiosum only made his cock appear thicker than it already was. his head glistened as you smeared the dripping precum around it. hungry gaze now at his large balls, which seemed to be twitching with the forming semen that was preparing to be shot at your touch.

your mouth was salivating at the mere sight of the pretty cock in front of you. your hands looked so small when they grabbed his thick base.

"my goodness, toru," you almost moaned. "never getting tired of this big cock." you sent him a playful wink, which he responded with a groan and a gentle tug at your hair. your hand moved painfully slowly up and down his long cock.

"yeah?" he gulped breathlessly, lustful eyes glaring down at you. "since you like it so much, you should wrap that pretty little mouth of yours around it and suck it dry." oh. his dirty talk did wonders to you, even now where you literally had him wrapped around your fingers. your core started to burn at just his lewd words, feeling your panties get sticky from your arousal.

"you want me to do that, baby?" he nodded eagerly. "it's okay, toru, use your big boy words." you said as you stopped deliberately at the top of his thick cock, squeezing shamelessly at head. a sea of precum sprouted from his hole.

oh how he loved you when you were like this. you felt his cock throb and grow impossibly harder at your words. a large palm hugged the side of your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip as it pressed against your lips. you parted them slightly only to give full entrance to his thick digit. low hums coming from your throat inviting him to push his thumb further into your mouth as you started sucking it, your spit coating his wrist. wide eyes looked up at him.

"yeah just like that. want you to suck my cock the way you're sucking my thumb," satoru groaned. you hollowed your cheeks around his thick digit, making him moan out loud. his burly body was adorned with glistening skin from the hot sweat framing every inch of his body.

you released his finger with a loud pop. satoru coated your lips with your own saliva using his wet thumb. he brought his hand to his face to taste you himself, sucking deliciously at his own thumb.

the sight made you salivate even more, being more than ready to take the long thick cock in front of you once and for all. you pumped him a few times before moving your lips closer to his fat head. precum being used as lipgloss as you rubbed his head against your lips. satoru almost let out a pornographic moan at the view, he loved it when you were freaky like that.

bliss clouded satoru's mind once you wrapped your pretty lips around his shaft. your mouth achingly punctured around his size. even though you have already taken him multiple times before, your holes still had to adjust to his exquisite width. you took him as far as you could, relaxing your throat muscles to get more of his lengths.

still, several inches of him were waiting for your warm mouth, so you curl your fingers around him. you set a steady rhythm where your bobbed your head up and down following the motion of your hand. his hips couldn't help but jerk up at the feeling of warmth enveloping him.

"oh... yeah... j-just like that, ba-byy," satoru cried hopelessly at your erotic movements. your hot mouth driving him crazy.

once your throat finally bottomed out, you sloppily took a couple of more inches down. satoru banged his head against the backrest and howled loudly. he was being very vocal.

"oh my sweet girl..." a long whine left his lips when you hollowed your cheeks around his length. "y-you are be-being so... so good t-to me..." his voice shivered as his hand went back to your face, caressing lovingly your hot cheeks.

you continued sucking him messily, the accumulating saliva dropping down his long length and down your chin, meeting his thighs and balls below. the hand that was not busy with his cock caught his heavy balls in a soothing massage, rubbing them and playing with them as if there were a pair of marbles.

"ahh~ oh~~ y-you are so... oh... pretty with that big... ahh... cock stretching your p-pretty lips." he couldn't stop moaning with an open mouht, being noisy as hell. you knew you were doing a great job when satoru was being uncontrollably talkative.

the tv light framed your silhouette in such a sensual way it made satoru roll his azure eyes to the back of his head. your head never ceasing the bouncing on his cock. you felt him throbbing when you hummed once his tip was deeply pressing down your throat, tickling at your uvula and targeting the gag reflexes you manually turned off.

his balls started twitching and your boyfriend became even more vocal, a set of loud cries and whimpers harmonizing your ears. it served as an indicator he was very close to his release. you continued humming around him until you felt something snapped.

satoru grabbed a handful of your hair to guide your mouth even deeper down his shaft. tears prickled at your eyes when you took all of him, gagging nosily as his white pubes tickled your nose, your spit creating a shiny coat around his length.

"come on, pretty girl..." he groaned, now using both hands to push your head further down. "take that cock, I k-know you can." you looked up at him glossy eyes, making satoru shiver in his place, letting out a growl. his hips thrusted into your face, satoru unable to control his movements, while his abs flexed along his biceps. you had one hand on his muscular thigh supporting yourself from the applied force, and the other continuing to play with his balls.

a teardrop cascaded down your rosy cheeks as your remaining oxygen was consuming quickly. you whorled his balls and squeezed them hardly. that was all it took for satoru to cum all over your mouth.

pure ecstasy filled his entire being, leaving his body trembling and releasing hot creamy liquid from his aching cock.

"ahh! ohh~ baby..." he cried the loudest as his arms lost their force on you to let you breathe and his hips ceased their furious thrusts. your mouth still agape panting harshly as warm spills of cum decorated your wet insides. your hand stroke him vigorously, urging him to finish his white leaking in your mouth. his hips jolt at his finishing release as he finally came from his high.

"show me, please," he begged as he tapped gently at your cheek. you swallowed his cum vulgarly, then stuck out your clean tongue. "that's my sweet girl." his smirk made you blush like crazy. you abandoned his softening cock after giving it a tiny kiss and climbed up to him, encircling your arms around his neck. "thank you so much, baby."

"you are so welcomed, toru, but now you gotta take care of me."

#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk smut

408 notes · View notes

alvojake · 3 days

Text

Until Forever | P.JS

↳ this is an add on to this fic here!! you do not have to read it to read this one, but it would make more sense if you do!!

「pairing」 : fiance!jay x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : it's father's day and you and your daughter make a secret plan to surprise jay with a nice dinner to come home; however, neither of you had expected him to return home early, but it doesn't change much. jay is just happy to have his little family together for a special day.

「genre」 : fluff... like tooth-rotting fluff, dad!jay

「warnings」 : kissing, mentions of pregnancy, petnames (baby, babe, princess, love, baby girl, bug, sweets...), down bad jay, minor cussing, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is something I wanted to write for a while, and well, I couldn't think of a better time than fathers day! I loved writing my first dad Jay fic, so making an add-on to it actually makes me really happy, but I hope you enjoy it. happy father's day to those who celebrate and to those who don't well... I'm your daddy now hehe

The warm summer sun was shining through the small kitchen window above the sink as you and Minji stood at the counter with mixed cake batter. The young girl was standing on her little stool next to you, trying to crack an egg, but she couldn't, which caused her to start getting frustrated. She just wanted to help you bake a cake for Jay for Father’s Day, but she had been struggling to crack the same egg for a few minutes, and you didn’t want to interrupt her. However, when Minji goes to throw it down, you intervene and take the egg from her little hands.

“You can’t throw the egg, love,” You laugh softly, cracking the egg and dumping the inside contents into the bowl with the other ingredients.

Minji pouts as she watches you mix the batter, her hands holding onto the countertop. She is amazed by how easy it was for you to crack the other egg before putting it into the bowl as well.

“Why is it so hard for me to crack the egg, mama?” She asked, eyes tearing away from the bowl to look up at you as a smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Even after two years of her calling you that it never ceased to make you smile, loving to hear the words fall from her lips.

You dusted your hands off with a rag before turning to face the little girl. Starting to bend down, you realized that you couldn’t go down as far as you once used to with the baby bump that had formed on your stomach. Getting comfortable with one hand gripping the countertop edge, you opened your mouth to speak to the little girl, but she was quick to interrupt, panic on her face.

“No, mama, stand up. You’re going to squish, sissy!” She exclaimed, her eyes moving from your face down to your swollen belly. You couldn’t help but laugh at how worried she was.

“Min, the baby is okay, I promise.” You smile at her softly before dusting some of the flour off of her shirt. Now, how about I finish up with the cake so we can get it in the oven? Then we can decorate it while I start dinner, okay?” A smile grew on the little girl’s face as she nodded her head, excited to make the cake look pretty for her daddy.

Patting her head softly, you pull yourself back to your feet with a huff, grab the bowl, and whisk to finish mixing. Minji watched with intrigued eyes, not saying much as you made sure there weren’t any clumps left in the batter before grabbing the cake pan.

Spray the pan with cooking spray to make sure the cake won’t stick to the sides when you try to get it out. Then grab the bowl and start pouring the batter inside. Once all of the batter was scraped out of the bowl, reach over Minji and sit it inside the sink, then grab the cake pan.

“Stay right here, Min, I don’t want you to get burnt.” You instruct the young girl, and she tilts her head quizzically before muttering a small ‘Okay, mama.’ After making sure that she was going to stay in her spot, you walk over to the preheated oven and open the door before sliding the pan in. When it was fully inside, you closed the door and set the timer. Dusting your hands off once more you looked back at Minji who was still watching you with curious eyes, you looked at the clock.

Jay shouldn’t be home until later in the evening, so the two of you should have more than enough time to decorate the cake and finish cooking dinner before he returns.

After the cake was done baking in the oven and fully cooled off you and Minji started to decorate it. You covered the entirety of the cake in frosting before grabbing a variety of sprinkles, decorative icing, and edible flowers to lay them before Minji so she could decorate.

“Alright, sweets, figure out what you wanna use while I finish off the frosting.” You pat down a few strands of her hair before turning back to the cake and grabbing the spatula.

Minji leans down until her chin rests on the counter, watching as you smooth out the frosting. Her eyes then fall onto your belly, and a small pout forms on her lips.

“How much longer is sissy going to be in there?” Minji asks as she lightly pokes your belly, resulting in a soft kick from the baby that was growing inside of your womb. You smile softly, setting the spatula down to cup the small girl’s face, brushing some stray frosting off of her face with your thumb.

“She still has a few more months until she gets here, Min,” you tell her with a smile, moving your hand from her face but not looking away.

Minji’s bottom lip jutted out, “Why can’t she come sooner?”

“Well, if she were to come now, she would be really sick, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” You watched with a fond gleam in your eyes as the little girl shook her head violently, slight panic forming in her eyes.

“No! I want her to be healthy, so I can play with her.” She exclaims, causing you to laugh softly, shaking your head. You then tell her that she will have to wait just a little bit longer after she’s born to play, which results in the young child sighing before yet another pout forms on her lips.

The both of you then go back to decorating the cake, talking about anything the girl could think of or humming a tune that has been stuck in your head.

However, after a few moments of not hearing a peep from Minji you looked over at her, seeing a troubled look on her face. Stopping what you were doing so you could turn all of your attention to her, “What’s wrong, bug?”

The moment that Minji turned her head, allowing her teary eyes to meet yours. Seeing the tears that were pooling along her waterline made your heart lurch. You reach out to cup her small cheek in your palm, thumb wiping a stray tear that had broken free.

“Are you and Daddy going to forget about me when sissy gets here?” Her voice shook as her bottom lip trembled, making your heart hurt. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like you or Jay would forget about her when the baby got here.

“Aww baby,” You cooed softly, crouching down once more despite the discomfort so you were at eye level with her. Reaching out, you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking at her with such fondness, “We’re not going to forget about you, even after the baby gets here.” You offer her a small smile, tilting your head slightly. “She’s going to need a lot of attention, but your dad and I will never forget about you, no matter what.”

Minji sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand before holding out her other hand, her tiny pinky sticking up. " You promise?” she asks.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you wrapped your own pinky around her’s, “I promise.” The both of you seal the word as the pads of your thumbs meet.

Unbeknownst to the both of you Jay stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched the two of you go back to decorating the cake. His eyes gleamed with adoration that if anyone had been looking in from the outside they would say that he quite literally had stars shining in his eyes. One would say that he was lovesick, the other would say he was a fool, but Jay didn’t care. If loving his fiance and children made him a love-sick fool, then so be it.

He watched the two of you discuss where to put the small edible flowers on the cake for a few more moments until he finally pushed himself off of the door frame. Walking further into the room, he watched his footsteps so the floorboards wouldn’t make too much noise.

“How are my favorite girls?” His voice filled the room, causing both you and Minji to jump. Turning around quickly, with your hand over your heart, you looked at Jay with wide eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be home until later.

Minji looks over at her dad with a huge smile on her lips before jumping from the stool, almost tripping, scaring the life out of you and Jay. However, she catches herself before making a beeline for Jay.

“Daddy!” She screamed as she ran into Jay’s awaiting arms, wrapping her arms tightly around Jay’s neck as he wrapped his around her smaller body. When he picked her up, Minji started to giggle, burying her face in Jay’s neck.

“How was your day princess?” Jay asked the small girl as she pulled away to look at him with wide, twinkling eyes. She starts to tell him about all of the stuff that you and her had been doing all day causing a smile to spread on your lips, watching the two of them. “Have you been listening to your mama?” Jay pokes her belly causing Minji to burst out in a fit of giggles before nodding her head and looking over at you just as you started to walk towards them.

A silly smile spread on Jay’s lips as he watched you waddle over to the two of them, your hand lying softly on the top of your baby bump. It still baffles him to this day that you have given him a second chance, even if it has been three years since then. Now he’ll get to call you his wife soon and you’re carrying his child. He will probably forever wonder whether or not this was all some dream, but if it was, he hoped it was one that he would never wake up from.

“She’s been good, she’s always good, Jay.” You smile softly as he wraps his arm around your waist the moment you’re within arm's reach.

“I’m just worried about leaving her alone with you right now,” He tells you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head as you wrap your arm around his torso. You rolled your eyes playfully before looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’m seven months pregnant, Jay, not handicapped.”

“I know, but I’m still gonna worry regardless.” He stared down at you, taking in your features. The way your hair that was pulled back into a messy bun was starting to come undone resulting in a few stray pieces falling and framing your face. The small specks of frosting that somehow got onto your cheeks, then your pretty pink lips that were coated in a thin layer of lip gloss. Noticing his gaze, you reached up to move a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, snapping him out of his little trance. Smiling softly, he leans down to kiss the top of your head once more.

Minji started poking his shoulder, trying to gain his attention, “Daddy, guess what?” Jay turned his attention back to his daughter as she smiled widely at him, her small body shaking in excitement. “We made a cake for you!” She exclaimed, pointing over at the unfinished cake that still sat on the counter.

Smiling, you looked over at her before moving to meet Jay’s gaze once more as he looked over. “It’s not done yet; we weren’t expecting you to be back so soon.”

“Ah well,” Jay chuckled, tightening his hold on the both of you, “I managed to get boss to let me off early so I could spend the rest of the day with my favorite girls.”

His words made your heart twist. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but just hearing how he would much rather spend every waking second of the day with you and Minji made you realize that you truly had picked the best man alive.

Minji wiggles her way out of Jay’s arms before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to where the cake was, leaving you to stand there and watch with a fond smile. The young girl went on to explain everything about what the cake looked like and how she wanted to decorate it for him. She then looked up at him, her face as bright as the sun saying that she hopes that he likes it when she finishes it.

“I love it already, Min.” He promised, patting the top of her head before she climbed back onto her stool to finish decorating.

You watch for a moment long before turning and walking over to the stove to finish cooking dinner. Noticing movement from the corner of his eye Jay looks over at you, seeing you pick up the ladle, your other hand propped on your hip.

With one last pat to his daughter's head, he makes his way over to you, grabbing the ladle from your hand, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve got it, bug; you should help Min finish the cake.” He looked at you with a soft smile, but you knew that arguing with him would just be useless, so you just shook your head, a smile pulling on the corner of your lips. Moving out of the way you allow him to take your previous stance, but you don’t move very far, eyes still on Jay, watching as he gets back into his element.

Seeing that you hadn’t gone anywhere and still stood in the same place Jay turned his head slightly before reaching a hand out to lay his palm flat on your swollen belly. His thumb rubs your skin soothingly through the fabric of your shirt as you move your hand to lay it on top of his, the light gleaming off of the diamond that laid on your ring finger.

Pulling your attention away from your hands, you let your eyes trail up until they met his, searching his orbs as the light reflected off of them. You had always loved his eyes. They always seemed dark at first glance, but upon closer inspection, they were a shade of your favorite chocolate, a beautiful color in your eyes.

“Thank you.” Jay breaks the silence; however, his words just leave you staring at him confused. You open your lips, asking what he meant and he just smiles sweetly, his gaze full of such love that it leaves you weak in the knees. “I am beyond thankful for you, bug; you’re always there for Minji and me. Thankful for everything that you have done for us. And I will forever be thankful that you gave me another chance because now I have the family that I’ve always thought about.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping to keep the tears that had pooled in your eyes at bay. His words made your heart flutter, beating against your ribs in such a manner that you were sure that your face was red. Your hand moved faster than your brain, smacking his chest softly with a playful glare adorning your face.

“Stop trying to make me cry, asshole.” You grumbled lowly, not wanting Minji to hear you.

Jay couldn’t help but laugh before laying the ladle down so he could turn and engulf your smaller body in his arm, pulling you as close as he could with your pregnant belly in the way.

He presses a kiss to your forehead with a smile, “I’m sorry, love.”

Just then, a loud crash was heard throughout the whole kitchen, causing you to jump in Jay’s arms. Small curses left your lips, causing him to chuckle. Before the two of you looked over at the little girl, who was looking down at the fallen bowl with wide eyes, the spatula not too far from it. There were small specks of frosting all over her face and a few bigger splotches around her mouth and chin.

“Whoops.” As soon as the word fell from Minji’s lips, both you and Jay burst out laughing, the little girl not too far behind you.

The two of you then separated, moving towards Minji to help clean her up. “I’ve got her,” you told Jay. He was quick to grab your upper arm, ready to protest, but you turned and pressed the pads of your fingers to his lips, shushing him. "You just cook dinner; I’ve got her.”

Jay grabbed your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, muttering a small ‘okay’ before releasing his hold.

He watches as you walk over to the sink to grab a clean rag from the drawer next to it before wetting it with warm water. You then turn to the little girl as she tilts her face towards you, already knowing what was coming.

“So, did you like the frosting?” You teased her, gently wiping the leftover frosting from her cheeks.

Minji giggled but nodded her head nonetheless, “I did! It was really sweet, though.” The girl exclaimed with a tight-lipped smile as you wiped down her chin.

Once her face was completely wiped off, you moved to pick up the bowl off the ground, but Minji was quick to hop off the stool, shouting that she’d got it. A sweet, wide smile spread on your lips as you watched her scoop up the bowl and spatula in her arms before turning and handing them to you.

Jay watched from the side with an adoring gleam in his eyes, knowing that Minji was already going to be a great big sister despite the almost six year difference.

“Thank you, love.” You thanked the child as you took the dishes from her outstretched arms and placed them in the sink to wash later.

The two of you then go back to decorating the cake—well, more like Minji is decorating it, and you’re just there to supervise so she doesn't make too big of a mess while Jay finishes dinner. The only sound filling the comfortable space around the three of you was the soft tunes that Jay was humming.

After dinner was done Jay gathered all of the dishes, ignoring your protests for him to let you do it. Realizing you weren’t going to win this fight, you just opted to help him clean them, which even took a bit of convincing. Finally giving in, Jay allowed you to dry the dishes off before placing them back in the cabinet. Even Minji found a way to help by standing next to Jay and pointing out all of the spots that he missed on some of the dishes, causing you to laugh softly as Jay faked a shocked expression every time.

He’d do anything if it meant that a smile would fall on either of his girls' faces.

Once the dishes were finally done, Minji started to hop around the dining table with a huge smile on her face. She then came to a halt in front of you, grabbing your hand and looking up to meet your awaiting eyes.

“Can we get the cake and presents out now?” she asked hurriedly, gently swinging your arm, causing you to chuckle and nod. However, Jay looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

“You didn’t have to get me anything; being with the three of you is more than enough.”

You roll your eyes softly, “No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Plus, Min has been excited to get you something.” You tell him, and the little girl by your side starts to nod her head violently, causing you to let out a small laugh. " Plus, it is your special day after all.”

Jay relented with a sigh, knowing that he wouldn’t be winning this fight, definitely not with the excited look that adorned his little girl’s face. So he sat down at the table, watching as the two of you walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with the gifts in hand.

Coming back to the table, you took Minji's gift and set them both down on the table in front of Jay. Minji then clung to your side, her head resting on the side of your tummy, eyes on her dad as he thanked both of you.

Jay grabs the gift from Minji first, pulling out the stuffing paper and reaching inside. A wide smile pulls on his lips as he pulls out a cute coffee mug that was littered with little doodles that Minji had scribbled on them. Jay took a few moments to inspect every drawing on the cup, seeing butterflies, puppies, her name, as well as both yours and Jay’s names, as well as a bunch of other random doodles. With a stupid smile on his lips, he sat the cup down before grabbing the homemade card that she had made for him. He once again took his time reading it, relishing in the way that despite Minji being only five her spelling and handwriting were amazing.

When he was done reading the card, he sat it down next to the cup before turning to look over at Minji, who still had a hold of your hand, eyes on him. Jay held a hand out for the small child, and she rushed over to him without an ounce of hesitation, wrapping her arms around him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” She exclaimed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with a toothy grin.

“Thank you, baby girl.” He returned her goofy smile before pressing a kiss on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter close, but the smile never left her lips.

Once Jay pulled away from her, Minji climbed onto his lap, quickly getting comfortable before looking over at you. Walking over, you place your hand on the back of Jay’s chair, watching as Jay reaches forward, grabbing the other small gift bag.

Jay throws a quick glance at you when he pulls a small ring box out, his eyebrows furrowed. He has a small feeling that he already knows what it is, or, well, more along the lines of what it could be. Your lips curl inward, trying to fight off the smile as you usher him to open it.

Opening the small box, Jay’s eyes go wide as he sees a ring sitting inside. However, it wasn’t just any ring. No, it was the right that he had been contemplating getting a few months back but decided not to. He was sure that you didn’t know about it, knowing how you are when he refuses to buy anything for himself, so how did you find out?

“What? How-”

You let out a laugh, hand moving to his shoulder, “Babe, you have a bad habit of not closing tabs when you’re done with them.”

Jay just chuckles with a small chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed before looking back down at the ring when he noticed how antsy Minji was in his lap. Asking if something was the matter she just shook her head before pointing to the piece of jewelry and telling him to look at the inside.

Confused, he takes the piece of jewelry out of the case before inspecting it. His eyes then go wide when he realizes that there are names inscribed on the inside of the band. Minji and Joonhee. Both of his little girls’ names.

“I knew how much you wanted something with the girls’ names on it, so when I saw the ring, I found a perfect solution.” You smiled sweetly at him as he looked up at you with literal stars shining in his eyes, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you, baby.” He spoke softly, biting back tears, but then he realized that he hadn’t seen your name with the girls’. “But where’s your name?”

You shook your head, telling him that you weren’t sure about adding your name, so you decided not to. Jay waved it off before saying that he’d go within the next few days to add your name.

“I want all of my girls’ names on there. Especially my wife and mother of my children.” His voice was sweet along with his words which easily brought tears to your eyes. You had wondered what you had done in your past life for you to deserve such a caring man like Jay.

You weren’t able to hold your tears this time resulting in them starting to fall down your cheeks.

“God dammit, Jay, I told you not to make me cry.” You curse him, trying to wipe the tears from your face, but it proves pointless as more just replaced the ones you had wiped away.

Jay chuckles softly before laying the ring back inside the box and grabbing Minji to pick her up once more. Hoisting the little girl on his hip as he stood, he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling your body into his, creating a small group hug.

“I love you both so so much.” He whispered, inhaling through his nose to keep his own tears at bay before pressing a kiss to Minji’s forehead. The little girl squealed with giggles, smiling at Jay when he pulled before leaning forward and pressing a kiss of her own on his cheek.

“I love you too, Jay, so much.” You responded to him as his eyes fell back on yours.

He leaned down, sealing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss, his hand on your jaw, angling your face for better access. After a few moments, the both of you pulled away with smiles adorning both of your faces.

Then you remembered the cake, quickly wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks, and smiled brightly at both Jay and Minji.

“Alright, who wants cake?” As soon as those words fell from your lips, Minji exclaimed loudly that she did, wiggling in Jay’s arms, causing you both to burst out laughing once more.

When the three of you were done with the cake, you all settled in the living room. You were lying between Jay’s legs, your back pressed against his chest, while Minji was curled up in your lap, using your baby bump as a pillow while the three of you watched movies.

It wasn’t too long before Minji fell asleep on your lap, her arms hanging loosely at her side while her face was smooshed against your belly. You cooed softly, brushed the hair out of her face watching her sleep for a few moments until a yawn tore through your lips.

“I think it’s time to call it a night; what do you say, bug?” Jay asked softly, his lips pressed against the back of your head.

Before you could even speak, you were cut off by a yawn answering Jay’s question. Laughing softly he maneuvered his way out from behind you so he could pick the sleeping child up.

“Noooo…” Minji whined sleepily as Jay pulled her from your lap, but as soon as her head laid on Jay’s shoulder, she was out once more.

Both of you laughed quietly before you moved to get off the couch, but Jay was quick to hold his hand out. Smiling up at him, you placed your smaller hand in him, allowing him to hoist you to your feet with little to no struggle.

You thanked him before the three of you made your way to Minji’s room to settle her before making it back to your room.

Settling down in bed, Jay reaches over to lay his hand on top of your baby bump once more. However, this time, the baby kicks, causing the both of you to laugh softly. He then leans over, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Your hand finds his cheek, thumb brushing his skin gently, realizing his warmth.

Pulling away, he lays his forehead against yours, breathing softly through his nose, “Thank you, again, for everything.” He thanked you for the nth time that night causing you to giggle softly before reaching forward to cup his face in both hands, kissing him once more.

“I would do anything and everything for you Jay,” You smiled as he sealed your lips in yet another kiss, all of his love and adoration seeping out as he kissed you deeply this time.

Pulling away, he moved down to your belly, fingers caressing the skin that was peeking out from the bottom of your, well, his shirt. You watched with soft eyes as he placed gentle kisses on the curve of your stomach.

“Don’t keep your mom up all night, alright.” He whispered against your skin, causing a silly smile to spread on your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The two of you lay down after turning the lights off. Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He then kissed your shoulder, trailing his lips up until he got to your ear.

“I don’t know how I became the luckiest man on earth, but I will never take it for granted.” He whispered softly, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I promise that I will do whatever it takes to make sure you and our daughters are taken care of.” He then kissed the top of your head, “I love you so much, baby,”

You mumbled a soft ‘I love you too,’ sleep already consuming your mind as you were encased in Jay’s warmth.

“Good night, my love.” He whispered as you closed your eyes, falling asleep with your hand lying over his.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

425 notes · View notes