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sociorafe · 4 months

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CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank

pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader

summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.

warnings: making out, marking, dry humping

author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!

taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut

“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”

You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.

“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?

“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”

JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”

You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”

JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”

You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.

The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.

“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”

And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.

JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.

Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.

JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.

“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“

His words get cut off by a loud slam.

You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”

Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”

JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.

“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.

“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”

You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.

“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.

Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”

JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.

John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.

“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”

You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”

You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”

“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.

“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.

“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”

You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”

You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.

You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”

“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.

“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”

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norrizzandpia · 5 months

Note

Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando

Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests

A Second Chance (LN4)

Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME

Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚

Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.

Some things are better left unsaid.

He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.

All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.

He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.

Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.

Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.

The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.

She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.

His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.

So, he tried again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.

The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.

The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.

The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.

—

“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.

Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”

Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.

“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.

Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”

“How do you know that?”

“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”

Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”

Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”

“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.

Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”

It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”

Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”

In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”

Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”

Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”

At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.

He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.

He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.

In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”

Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”

Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.

Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.

The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.

—

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.

“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.

Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”

“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”

“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.

Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”

He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.

He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.

However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”

She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.

That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.

Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.

“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.

His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”

A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”

Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”

Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”

Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”

Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”

“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”

—

As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.

He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.

He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.

Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.

They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.

He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”

The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”

He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.

He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”

He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.

The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.

Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.

He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.

He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.

“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.

The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?

“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”

Lando grimaces at their words.

However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”

The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.

The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.

“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”

The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.

“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”

He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.

Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.

It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.

Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.

His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.

“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.

His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”

She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”

He takes a leap, “Been better.”

She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”

Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”

She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”

“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.

She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”

“Look at me.”

When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.

“Look at me.”

And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.

“Why?”

“Because of what you did.”

He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.

He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.

Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.

Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.

Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.

—

Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.

He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”

“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.

Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”

“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”

By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”

Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”

Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”

Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”

—

Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.

Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.

Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”

At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.

She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”

Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.

This isn’t real.

He knows that.

But, what if it is?

—

When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.

Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.

When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.

For it will be gone tomorrow.

—

He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.

And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.

“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.

“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.

She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”

He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”

She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”

He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”

“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.

“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”

“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”

Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”

“No.”

It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.

“Yes, you do.”

She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”

“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”

Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”

Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.

A YEAR EARLIER

Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.

“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”

He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.

When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.

Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”

He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”

He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”

He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”

“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.

When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”

She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”

“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”

He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”

She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”

He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”

Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”

He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”

His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”

He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.

There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.

Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.

PRESENT TIME

Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.

He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.

“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.

“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.

“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”

She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”

“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.

Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”

Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.

“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”

His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.

“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”

He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”

He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”

She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.

He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”

He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”

She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”

“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”

She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”

He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”

He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”

She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.

They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.

Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you

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justaaveragereader · 7 months

Text

Slashtober 🔪|| Invisible Man Hongjoong

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Choking, MeanDom!Hongjoong, Pussy Slapping, Man Handling, Degradation, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Name Calling (Whore, Slut..), Stomach Bulge, Rough Sex, Mirror Sex, Consensual Sex, If I Missed Anything.. Let Me Know…👀!

A/N: They are all slashers so all of them are going to be boarder lining mean doms Or just mean doms🤪😁.

Slashtober Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT🔞 MDNI!!!

The first new neighbor was Kim Hongjoong, devilish eyes, sharp nose, and pristine clean man. With a huge moving truck across the street you couldn’t help but get curious as to who was moving in. You quickly made way to introduce yourself, wanting to befriend the hot, and hopefully single male. He was out on his lawn instructing the movers where to place his boxes in his home. With arms full of water bottles you stood by the curb.

“Hello! I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I saw you were new to the neighborhood. I just wanted to stop over and introduce myself, and also offer some water as I see you all are working ha-..”

He turned around to look at you and you trailed off into your sentence, mind completely blanking by his visuals. He was even hotter up close.

“Why hello!” His voice was higher than you expected yet it was still so attractive like the rest of him. From that day forward. Anytime you saw him outside you went out of your way to greet Hongjoong, you learned he had no wife, no kids, he owned the home he was living in. You never saw anyone leave in or out, so you assumed he had no girlfriend either. He did leave at odd times of the night, sometimes not returning til late a.m. you had assumed his job as an artist made him have odd hours.

As more neighbors started to pile into the neighborhood the weirder things got, you noticed no matter how many times you closed your bedroom window, it was always left open a crack. Strange white residue would be left on your mirror. Certain clothing items would be missing. Yet you never felt the need to investigate what went on. Blaming it on your lack of caffeine, along with your lack of sleep. One night you had awoken to the buttons to your night shirt popping open slowly, your eyes literally watching them undo themselves. Too stunned to move you watch the last button pop. The creaking of your mattress falls upon your deaf ears, stunned by the sight in front of you. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is there, nothing you can see, nothing you can make out. Nothing. Your heavy breathing is the only sound heard, besides the late night crickets making noise out your cracked window. The cool autumn breeze blows through, causing you to shiver.

The indentation on your bed should’ve clicked in your head but when you looked forward at the mirror all you saw was yourself panting and out of breath. Deciding it was best you lay back down, forcing yourself to go to sleep. If this was a dream you were definitely not going to entertain it any longer.

As morning came your window was still yet cracked, the room now cold with the autumn air, and your bed messily tossed around. Looking out of your window, you see him once again. Raking the leaves on his lawn, Kim Hongjoong. While you stand and gawk at him it never registers in your mind that your night shirt is completely unbuttoned, your bra just completely out for everyone to see. It’s almost like he senses you looking at him. Turning from the leaves he looks up at you, shooting you a toothy grin, waving his one nail manicured hand at you. You smile back, clearly dumbstruck at his warm smile. The breeze of air flows in, blowing your shirt back, the nipply feeling in your skin causes you to look down, embarrassment creeping up at your neck, when you look up, Hongjoong isn’t there. The pile of leaves are scattered, no signs of every being raked. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you step away from the window. Proceeding to get ready, as you walk to your bathroom you notice that weird white residue on the lower half of the mirror, letting out a huff you start your normal routine of getting items to clean the mirror, while struggling to find an outfit for the day.

It was always at night time when things got weird for you. The window always cracked open at night, your pajamas would randomly be off. You were convinced you truly were going insane. That was till everything snowballed one night. Those light touches turned into firm grasps, your airways would at times become cut off like something was blocking them. Your cunt would ache like it had just got rammed the night prior. Yet you always woke up with a chipper attitude, a small limp in your walk but a bright, relieved smile nonetheless. Tonight was no different, you heard the window crack, not even bothering to turn over, you remained still. Trying to level your breathing out as you feel the cool air invade your warm space. The small creaks of your floorboards can be heard. Suddenly a cold object touches your ankle, causing your body to flinch. Your leg shoots close to your chest, eyes open wide trying to make out whatever was in the dark. You saw absolutely nothing, were you truly losing your mind? Had you gone off the deep end?

“What are you..?” You whisper out quietly, you hear the bed creak as if something sat on it, yet you are on high alert with fear it doesn’t register in your mind. You feel an object touch your shoulder pushing you down harshly. Your body submits easily, you’ve done this same song and dance numerous times. Yet this was always the thrilling part, the part where you would try to piece together what or who was doing this. A high pitched laugh can be heard through the room, causing your body to attempt to sit up just to be pushed back down.

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you slut.” A voice suddenly speaks out, you feel your legs shift open the bed dipping with each movement. A cool sensation runs up and down your warm fleshy thighs. You let out a small whimper, so easily submitting yourself to whatever it was that was making you walk like your legs were two over cooked noodles in the morning.

“You like this don’t you? Needy whore.” Hongjoong pushes his thumb down on your clit through your pajama pants, he’s been doing this so long with you he knows your body, and what it likes. He knows it so well, he can be deprived of all senses and he’d still know how to work your body. You let out a small moan, cocking your legs open more. Morals tossed aside for something you continuously thought was a dream. His thumb rubbing small circles amongst your clit, drawing our small noises from you. You were always so pretty when you made those sweet noises for him. Drawing his hand away from your cunt, he gets more comfortable between your legs. The lack of feeling him for a split second has you whining instantly. Bringing his hand down to your clothed pussy he gives it a slap. Causing your body to jerk up from the sudden action. If only you could see how his eyes darkened when he saw how well you responded to that action, waking up an inner demon in him.

“You want me to keep going? You’ll spread your legs for anything that crawls into this room huh.” He cackles out, mind now fueled with one thing, and one thing only. He was going to completely ruin your pretty ass, and he was going to make sure if you even had the ability to get up and walk the next day, you’d be walking with a limp. The noises that continue to leave your throat as he man handles you, pulling you to sit up so he can swiftly unbutton your shirt. He’s tossing you around like you are nothing more than a flesh light that he is lubing up getting ready to use.

Pulling you to the floor, your night shirt rides up your back, as your shirt is completely unbuttoned your bra is on display once again for whatever is pulling you down. Dragging you in front of the mirror, panting with nerves due to not being able to see what was dragging you around effortlessly. Crushing your thighs together you are wound up from all the touching on the bed. Whatever is in the room with you. You feel its warm breath on your ear, causing your nails to dig into your thigh. Gripping your face he causes you to look into the mirror, you already look fucked out. Your face is slick with what you think is saliva, shirt hanging off of your shoulders faint bruising littered across your chest. You suddenly feel cool hands on your lower half, watching with full attention in the mirror you see your pajama shorts get pulled down slowly. Revealing your embarrassingly wet panties that are clinging to your folds. A warm breath hits your ear.

“Look at you, disgusting slut. You get this wet for just anybody?” A high pitched voice with a rough undertone speaks out into your ear. Your legs are spread open more. A hand grips your scalp tightly, cocking your head back. You look up at nothing, a high pitched chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine makes your blood curdle, but your lower stomach flips.

“I should fuck you with in a inch of your life you pathetic whore. Look at you, so fucked out for me and I haven’t even stuck my cock in you.” Letting go of your scalp, he pushes you on your stomach, snatching your night shirt off you, unhooking your bra so your breast fall free. A humming noise is heard behind you, Hongjoong grips his hard cock through his suit, not that you could see any of his movements. Pushing a thumb on your clothed clit hearing the soft squelching noise of your panties being squashed between your moist lower lips. You let out a small moan, not wanting to give whatever it was the satisfaction of hearing your moans. You feel a heavy weight slap your ass, knowing you will have a welt on your cheek in the morning. Letting out a choked out moan your body shivers from the impact.

“Look in the mirror, whore. Look at yourself, pussy dripping for something you can’t even see. Are you always this easy?” He hisses out, gripping the back of your neck, bringing his lips down to your ear, the sweet scented breath engulfing your senses.

“Answer me!” He growls out into your ear, your eyes rolling back at the glimpse you catch in the mirror, your body angled in such a way yet it was just you in the mirror. You choke out a sob through your moan. His hand coming down to slap your ass, jiggling your ass cheek in his hand. Mounerving your body so when you are face first to the mirror. Hiking your hips up so your back arches, pulling you panties down behind your knees. The cool autumn air hits your hot core. Causing you to let out a small gasp. His hand wraps around your throat making you collide with his broad chest. Back curved, breast on display, panties pulled down to behind your knees.

“Pitiful slut, how many others have you had in this wet cunt of yours?” Letting his thumb roll around on your clit, you bite your lip trying your best to remain conscious as to what is going on around you. His hand swiftly comes down giving your pussy a slap. Causing your body to jerk forward, you would've fallen forward if it wasn’t for Hongjoongs tight hold on your throat. Gripping his hand tighter blocking your oxygen off, the way he’s flicking his fingers on your clit though, you could care less how your body is being deprived of oxygen. Your hands fly to try to grab the invisible figure as your vision starts getting blurry, yet the way an orgasm is coursing through your veins you should care more but the feeling of fear is what pushes you over the edge. Letting out a choked out cry, your toes curl. Taking in a big breath of air, while Hongjoong still rubs slow circles over your pulsing clit. You flounder around on the floor trying to run from the invisible hand that you cannot see. His strong hand grips your hips keeping you in place.

“There are plenty of pathetic whores I could waste my time on, yet I’m here with you. Be a good girl and give me another one.” He grits into your ear, causing you to let out a whimper, gripping the small patch of carpet in front of your mirror, you glimpse up, seeing your back perfectly arched, you can see an indentation of a hand print of your ass cheek. Causing your mouth to moisten, you were drooling. Were you truly a sight to see. Letting out a choked on sob. You start pleading.

“Please please please..” you cry out, brain completely dried of any thoughts. He wanted you to cum again, yet you were begging for it. His hand comes down to slap your cunt. Your body lurching forward. His hand wrapping around your throat again, pulling you back to his chest, his firm grip on your throat was destined to leave a mark. His grip tightening with each breath you take.

“Be a good slut and spread your lips open.” He grits into your ear, tightening his hand slightly. Brain on autopilot you spread your mouth open slightly. His hand cracking down on your ass cheek, making you jolt in his firm grasp.

“You going dumb already on me slut? Spread those pussy lips for me, otherwise I will make sure your pathetic ass doesn’t cum again.” Tone the lowest it’s been since he’s been in the room. Bringing your hand down to your sopping cunt you spread your lips open. Your fingers glistening with your slick. His hand tightens even more causing you to let out a choked on whimper.

“Look at yourself…” the hand that is wrapped around your throat jerks your head up, your body is flush with sweat, your fingers holding open your slick lips, eyes glazed over. You looked like eight days of blissful rain. His hand comes down to smack your spread open cunt. Causing your body to arch further into his grasp. Your fingers lip away from holding your lips open. His hand jerks your neck back, so you are flush against his body.

“Hold them lips open baby, if you don’t it’ll only get worse from here.” He whispers into your ear. Nibbling on your earlobe. Nodding in his tight grasp you move to open your lips back up, slick fingers making a quiet squelching noise. His hand comes back down to slap your cunt.

“Start counting slut. If you count like a good girl I will make it worth your while baby girl.” He grunts, digging his hard cock into your naked ass cheek. Bringing his hand down, slapping your cunt once more.

“O-one..” you stutter out.

“Wrong!” Bringing his hand down faster, smacking your cunt a little harder than last time.

“How many times did I smack your wet little cunt before this?” He says tilting your face up with his index finger that is tightly laced around your throat giving it a small squeeze. Shutting your eyes, your body shivers with neediness.

“Twice! Twice!” You choke out, tears streaming down your face.

“Please…plea-se.” You hiccup out.

“Please fuck me.” Your fingers still spreading your glistening cunt open, juices running down your inner thighs. Letting out a growl at your begging he lets go of your throat, shoving your head into the carpet, placing a hand onto your back, arching you even further. You feel a weight on your back, his body covers your own.

“Only because you beg so pretty.” He unzips a small section of his suit, letting his cock spring free, the way you are bent in the mirror you aren’t able to see the flesh of his cock. You still see nothing. Tapping his cock against your slick folds, he rubs his head over your puffy, red clit. Letting out a mockingly coo at you. Sliding his heavy cock in between your folds slickening himself up before sliding in, causing you to let out a loud moan. Your hands instantly gripping the plush carpet beneath you. Grabbing one of your hips, while keeping a hand on your lower back so you are perfectly arched. He lets out a hissing noise.

“Fuuuckkkk…” Hongjoong groans out, trying his best not to blow his load already. Your tight walls were strangling his cock. How was he supposed to last long? Gripping your neck he pulls you flush against him. He had to make this fast.

“Look at yourself baby, go ahead and look at yourself.” He grits into your ear, driving his hips up, you instantly let out a mewl. Picking your head up you look at yourself, stomach slightly bulged at the bottom, thick print of a cock in your stomach. Juices everywhere, drool on the side of your face, yeah, you definitely had a great night.

He slides out slightly before, placing a hand on your waist, bouncing your overly stimulated body on his cock. Your cunt grips him even tighter. His breathing getting heavier, your pussy felt like heaven. If he had to keep you locked up for his keepings best believe he would. Your loud screams can be easily heard from outside, Hongjoong did leave the window cracked open for them all to hear.

Slowing his hips down, as he pulls his cock slightly out, he pulls your body up, and slams you back down slowly. Making sure you feel every bulging vein drag through your warm wet walls. You can feel him pulsing in your cunt. You should be ashamed that you are getting off on God knows what but they way they are fucking you, you could care less. You are drooling over your breasts, you look in the mirror, seeing yourself being held up.

Shoving you to the floor, making sure when you lay face down all you get is a eye sight of your body being fucked. Sliding back in he lets out a groan. Slamming his hips back into you. Gripping the top of your ass cheeks to stabilize himself, so he can fuck you harder. He’s fucking you so good and so hard you can’t even feel the rug burn that’s beginning to set in on your knees. Your ass bounces off his suit, coating it in a shiny slick, the wet smacking noise is consistent with his thrusts.

“Fuck me! Oh my god…fuck me!” You shout your orgasm starting to creep up faster than you would like. Hunching his body over yours, he grabs a handful of your boob, his body weight on your neck feels delicious. His warm breath in your ear.

“I’m fucking you good aren’t I slut?” He grits out, cock still ramming into your squelching hole. You cry out, to what ever was fucking, warning them that you were close. Both hands come up to wrap around your throat, applying light pressure, causing your back to arch off the ground slightly, you can see your ass ricochet off of what is behind you. He’s holding you like he’s going to choke the life force out of you. Like you are nothing but dumb delicious putty in his hands. You can hear grunting filling the room over the wet skin smacking.

“You looking at yourself get fucked stupid slut?” He grits out, speeding up his hips resulting in your body to jolt forward with each thrust. Tears pour down your face, along with saliva. You truly were being fucked stupid. Biting his lip to prolong his orgasm, he tightens his hold on your throat, cutting your airways off. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, cumming instantaneously. Your mouth drops open, drool pours out onto the plush rug beneath you. Hongjoongs hips speed up, his hands dropping from your throat, rag dolling your tightened cunt onto his heavy cock. Slamming his hips up once more he pulls out, shooting his load onto the mirror. Marking his territory, making sure you knew someone or something was there making you feel that good. Your head hits your rug immediately, passing out from your intense orgasms leaving Hongjoong to clean you up. Unzipping his suit slightly so he can let his sweaty skin breathe. He takes some of his dripping cum from the mirror and smears it across your puffy folds.

Marking you in as many ways as possible. Lifting you from the rug, he places you on your mattress. Tossing your clothes close to the side of your bed. Getting you comfortable on the bed, with no aftercare. He cracks open your window, zipping up the rest of his suit. Shimming his way back down the side of your house. Making sure to leave your window open just a crack.

The bright sun shining directly into your eye awakens you. As you crack open your eyes you are met with the sound of Hongjoong raking his leaves once more. Your body feels like it has been hit by a bus. Sitting up, limping your way to the bathroom, you don’t even care to think about why your clothes are off…last night was just a fever dream…right? Staring into your bathroom mirror, your lips perk up at the markings on your body..surely you aren’t crazy..? Whatever was here surely did a number on you, yet you couldn’t think of anything but the need for whatever it was to come back. Showering the stench of sweat off your body, you get dressed, and limp your way to where Hongjoong was raking leaves, from the corner of his eye he can see you limping. Trying to bite back his greedy smile, he turns around, acting startled at your appearance.

“Good Morning Neighbor!” He greets cheerfully.

You smile at him, rubbing your hands together, tugging your turtle neck up slightly to cover the markings on your neck.

“Good Morning Hongjoong! You are at it early this morning, aren’t you?”

He smiles at you briefly, internally he is boasting with joy, a shit eating grin being held back.

“I had a good night's rest last night, I feel really rejuvenated so I thought why not come out here and start the lawn early! How did you sleep? Restful, I hope?” He drops an octave at the last sentence, your body immediately littering with goosebumps. You smile at him telling him you slept all too well. Hopefully you will be able to sleep that well again. He tosses you a brief smile. Wrapping up the convo you bid him well, limping your way back to your house.

“Y/n! A good girl like you should always sleep well..” He calls out in a low tone. Your body immediately stops in your tracks. Turning around to look at Hongjoong who was nowhere to be seen. Looking around you see nothing, not even the pile of leaves he was raking together. Maybe the neighborhood was beginning to play tricks on you.

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yeollie-plz · 5 months

Text

Rom-Com

Charles Leclerc x GN! Reader

Synopsis: You just wanted to buy some merch, you didn’t realize you’d return with a man too.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: kissing, tbh I don’t think anything else it’s too fluffy

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: So this literally came to me in a dream and I just had to write it! Ik the concept is a bit shaky but tbh I didn’t get much detail from dream me so!

Arriving in Las Vegas, you were over the moon to see the GP that was being held there this weekend. It was your first time ever getting to go to one in person and to say you were excited would be an understatement.

When your friend first suggested the idea, you never thought you’d be able to swing it. But, here you were landing in Sin City!

Then your friend suggested to go to the secret pop-up shop that she had saw online. It seemed just a bit sus but hey you wanted some exclusive merch. So you agreed.

The shop was cute, they had merch you had never seen before! As you looked through the various items, you couldn’t help but notice a crowd drawing towards a certain corner of the shop.

The shop was small, only letting a few people in at a time, so for them all to be so close together. Something had to be going on.

Curiosity got the best of you as you let your body ease towards the crowd. Whispers getting louder as you got closer. Hearing words of ‘a driver being here’.

You rose to your tippy toes, trying to get a glimpse of anything. As your neck craned you saw a head of brown hair, right as a camera flashed. You lost your balance, letting yourself recenter when you landed on the ground. Was there really a driver here?

As you moved around the outer ring of the circle, you tried to get any view that you could. Long since losing your friend, you decided you might as well just push forward. As nicely as you could, you wiggled your way through the crowd trying to decipher all the commotion.

That’s when you saw him. In all his glory. Charles Leclerc.

It couldn’t be! The Charles Leclerc was in a random pop-up shop, down a random alley in Las Vegas? It was like something from a meet-cute in a romantic comedy. No! It was like an event from a fanfiction!

And just like how the fanfiction would play out, you waited for your turn to acknowledge the boy and when he finally locked eyes with you, sparks. You stumbled over your words a bit, trying to find the right way to extend your appreciation for him.

He laughed lightly as you tried to find your words. He gestured to the couch that lined the wall, willing you to sit and as you did the camera flash went off again. It seemed to snap you into reality, remembering that this was just a PR thing. Some fan service that he was doing.

You let the pictures be taken, smiling as brightly as you could with your nerves the way they were. That’s when on his own accord, Charles closed the distance between the two of you on the couch and threw his arm over your shoulder.

Your smile instantly dropped, a look of shock replaced it. The last camera flash went off, leaving white lights in your eyes.

The arm that was around your shoulders helped to gesture you to stand. You stood and whispered a thank you before scurrying off.

As you meandered around the store, trying to find your friend, you found yourself glancing back to the area Charles was at. Each time his eyes met yours, something flashing behind them. It was almost inviting.

You turned a corner finally finding your friend. As you scolded her for wandering off without you, a voice sounded behind you.

“So what do you think, do you think if I wrapped this enough it would make it home in one piece?”

You turned to see Charles standing there holding up a snow globe. His head was tilted in question, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I-um I think with enough it would be fine, sure.” You confirmed.

“What did you pick out?” He gestured to the shirt you were clutching, you hadn’t realized how firmly until he pointed it out. Walking closer to you he grabbed the shirt from your now limp hands and held it up, considering it.

“Nice choice. Although you should’ve went with Ferrari red. It would look good on you.” He said with a smile, slipping the shirt back in your hands and leaving you two alone without a word.

“First of all, was that Charles Leclerc? Second of all, was Charles Leclerc just flirting with you?” Your friend asked in shock. She grabbed your shoulders as if shaking you would loosen some answers from you.

“Yes it was and no he wasn’t.” Brushing her hands off you as you spoke.

“Then what’s this?” She grabs a piece of paper that had somehow made it into your hands, bunched with the shirt. “His number!” She confirms after looking at it.

She holds it out for you to see before whisking it away and running through the store. You chase closely after her. Not only are you trying to catch her, but the number of the super hot F1 driver.

Finally you do and you snatch the number from her death grip. Glancing down you see it truly is Charles Leclerc’s number. Your eyes go wide.

“So are you going to text him?” She asks, hand on her hip.

“Is that even a question?”

It’s almost three months later when you see Charles Leclerc again. The two of you have been texting almost nonstop in that time. You could feel yourself slowly falling for him. You just hoped he felt the same way.

When he said was coming to visit New York and would like to see you, you were overjoyed. Somehow that made you even happier than when you had gone to your first GP.

Charles made you feel like a teenager again. A teenager with a huge crush on a cute boy, that is. But you were grateful for that, it felt good to feel this way.

Now to just get him to say it back.

That entire weekend, you were on a mission to get a love confession. You had pulled out all the stops. Booking museum tickets. Walking Central Park. You even got the two of you tickets to ice skate and you were terrible at ice skating!

You were writing a script to your own romance. First the meet cute, now the fun montage set to an upbeat hit. All that was left was the grand gesture.

And that’s where you were stuck. Usually there was a conflict in the movie that would call for that grand gesture. But you and Charles got along too well, you didn’t see any intense relationship ending arguments happening any time soon.

That was until someone finally took a picture of you and Charles out one day. Honestly, you were surprised it took that long. It wasn’t like you minded it had leaked, you were just friends hanging out, technically. Charles’s PR team on the other hand, had a big problem with it.

Ten minutes he had been in the other room, whispering yelling into his phone. Suddenly he yelled something like a goodbye and rushed out the door of his bedroom and into the living space of the huge hotel suite he had booked.

He sighed, “Sorry, they are just so dramatic about everything. One picture and they say it’s the end of my career. I drive for a living! I’m not a puppet!”

“Would it really be that bad if you were with someone?” ‘With me’ is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the heart to.

“They think it would be. But I don’t see why it would matter if I dated anyone, I’ve done it in the past.” He sighs again, running his hand through his hair.

“Is it because I’m a nobody? They want some big star to boost your name?” You looked down at your hands.

“It has nothing to do with you! They just think anybody is an issue! I told them we are friends! I just-maybe you should go home. I’ll call a car. I’m sorry.”

With that, you leave. Not sure what to say.

The day of his flight home comes and Charles has not come to see you since that day you left his hotel. You hadn’t reached out to him and he hadn’t reached out to you.

There was no reason to feel sad about him saying you were friends, you knew that’s all you were and any silly little feelings you had couldn’t change that.

A knock sounds at your door. You glance through the peephole, seeing Charles standing there. Your brows furrow in confusion as you open the door for him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?”

He seems out of breath as he answers, “I couldn’t leave, not without saying what I need to say.”

“Okay, go on.” You urge sweetly.

“So I know I said we were friends but you and I both know we are more than that. I mean hell the first time I saw you I think I fell in love. Then I played this game with myself. I thought you would never love me back and I was a fool for even trying. Then you seemed to reciprocate my flirting and I was elated. For the first time I felt whole. But I think I got scared when the pictures leaked.” He paused like he was contemplating what to say next.

You reached your hand to his cheek, rubbing slowly. He leaned into the motion, seemingly giving him his confidence back.

“I got scared that you wouldn’t want a life in the spotlight and I could never give you that normal romance that you deserved.” Another pause.

“When I asked you about your favorite movie, you couldn’t give me just one. You gave me a genre, I went home and watched every available rom-com I could find just to understand you. You don’t need textbook perfect, you just need perfect for you. You need your rom-com.”

A smile creeps into your lips as he searches your eyes. You grab the front of his shirt, pulling him into you. Passionately, you kiss him, silently giving him your answer.

He laughs as he pulls away, breathless, “I guess you could call this the grand gesture.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“I guess you could.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #Charles Leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

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byunpum · 1 year

Text

They caught us

Pairing: Neteyam x human reader

Tags: fluff, cuddling, teasing, crushes, playful biting, lots of kisses

Warning: light teasing, some smut 18+, the characters have 20's

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 | Part 4

It was a peaceful day at the camp in the mountains. You had been doing your daily task all day, helping Norm with various tests he had to do for his new investigations. You were also helping Jake with the new tracking maps that Norm had given him. Technology was not his thing, that's why he was always looking for his "favorite daughter-in-law", jake joked with that line. According to him, neteyam and you spent all their time together. Neytiri always tapped him on the arm or gave him a blank stare. You didn't have a bad relationship with Neytiri, she always trusted you. She never said anything when you and neteyam would go for a walk, spend time together, even if there were shows of affection between the two of you. It never bothered her, but when someone hinted that you and neteyam might be a couple, you could see her disapproving face.

You didn't get to see any of the boys during the day, you only knew that loak, spider and neteyam were out for a ride, because tuk told you about it. And since you had already finished all your homework, you decided to go to the lab, to see what you could do there, until it was time for dinner. You went in and noticed that there was no one there, norm and max had gone out to do god knows where. As there was no one there, you decided to go to your room. You could go to it, through a door that connected to the lab. It was a hallway, with doors and one of them was your room. You go in…and literally take off your clothes, leaving you with only an oversized shirt and a pair of panties. You lay face down on your bed, watching an old movie on the tablet that Norm had given you for your birthday.

An hour passed, you were so into the movie, until the door to your room opened. Neteyam's head popped in the door, he didn't want to make any noise. He saw that you were in bed and decided to come in. He had keys to your room, actually he was the only one who had them. And it was for good reasons, the first was that if something happened he could come to look for you, the second was because it was easier to meet you at night. He came in quietly, listening as you were singing softly, the song you heard in the movie. He moved in behind you and let himself fall down.

You screamed in fear and tried to turn around. But you calmed down when you heard his laughter. "What are you doing? Let go of me!!!" you complained as you tried to turn around. But it was almost impossible, neteyam was heavier than you and not to mention that he was twice your size. You swear he was more muscular. "mmm I don't want to, I want to stay here. On top of you mmm" says neteyam as he hugs you more and relaxes his body on top of yours. "come on, let me get comfortable…and I'll let you hug me all you want." You moan. He lifts up a little on his elbows, leaving a little space between you and him. You settle down so that you are on your back, he settles back on top of you. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his sides, just above his waist. "Mmm you smell good" says neteyam with his head buried in your neck. "I've been outside all day, I must not smell good" you speak, stroking her hair, and tracing your fingers through his queue. Making him purr. "oh no, honey…your smell is wonderful" you can feel, as he gives several wet kisses. As he gets closer, his hands were embracing you completely. You could feel him exploring your whole body.

Neteyam had become a little more needy in the last few months, and you knew it. He was touching you more than usual. If you were next to him, he would brush his hands over your hips. Or he would move closer to your neck so he could smell your scent. He would stare at you longer, and you could sense that his gaze was not at all innocent. "Nete… what's wrong with you?" you ask him with a little smile, placing your hands on the sides of his face, making him look up at you. Neteyam looks at you, to get close to your face and kiss you. "I love you" says Neteyam, between kisses. Some on your lips and others on your eyes. "I love you too" you laugh, his lips tickle you. Neteyam sits on the bed, and grabs the back of your thigh, to get more comfortable. "I want you…" Neteyam already had his hands down your shirt. " but… you said you didn't want to hurt me" your voice was cut off, as neteyam's fingers rubbed the sides of your stomach, while he kissed your neck. He was pressing himself harder against you. You reached back to kiss him again.

You started to lift your hips to try to find some friction, neteyam noticed this movement and started to imitate your movements. You moaned a little, it felt so good. Your shirt was already halfway down your body, and he was still placing sloppy kisses here and there. He lifted himself up on top of you, to get more comfortable. "Did you close the door?" you ask him, as you run your hands over his stomach. "Yes, yes" he spoke a bit excited, you glanced down at his loincloth and you could already see his growing erection. Neteyam looked at you, and gave you a cheeky grin. As he settled on top of you again. "Do I get another kiss?" asks Neteyam as he starts kissing you. You laugh into the kiss.

"Y/N has to be in his room" says norm, as he is escorted by jake and neytiri down the hallway on the way to your room. Jake had been having trouble with the maps and was looking for you to help him again. "this place is horrible," says neytiri walking next to jake. "there are worse places." norm laughs, as she guides him to your room.

The situation had already escalated, the only noise you could hear in the room was the moaning of both of them. Neteyam was already on his way to your panties, his hand stopped on the edge of them, playing a little. " you know… I hate this thing" he says as he continues kissing neck. " Well, if you want you can take it off" you flirt with him a little bit, pinking your nose against his. While neteyam trails under your panties, brushing his fingers on your little nub. You moan softly, stealing a kiss from him. "mmm don't tease me" you speak, not noticing your bedroom door opening.

You were so entertained between the two of you, you didn't notice the door open. Norm stood in front of Jake and Neytiri. The three of you were silent. No words came out of their mouths, they were in a state of shock. Neteyam was on top of you, your shirt was up, neteyam was kissing you, and they could see where neteyam's hand was. Jake's face changed and so did Norm's. "NETEYAM!!!" neytiri yelled. You two opened your eyes. And tried to get settled as fast as you could. "What's going on here?" neytiri shouted. "It's so obvious!!!" says Jake, making Neytiri look at him, and he changes his gaze. "Mom, I can explain," says Neteyam, sitting on your bed.

You didn't know what to say, you were adjusting your shirt. The situation in itself was embarrassing. "Why-why don't we just let them…. We'll be waiting for you in the lab," says Norm, pushing everyone out of your room. Neytiri was still screaming, while Jake dragged her with him. You two stood there, silent. Until neteyam started laughing.

"Your mother will murder me!!!" you say, and throw yourself backwards on your bed. Neteyam laughs, and lies down next to you. He moves, to bite your ear. "Hey …. are you calm because nothing is going to happen to you" you say. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you" says neteyam lying on top of you again. "Neteyam! They are waiting for us!!!" you moan, as you play along. "Then let them wait".

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cillianhead · 7 months

Note

Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉

Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol

Thank you☺️

Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!

Enjoy <3

Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)

18+ Minors DNI

Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.

Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.

Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.

"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.

"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.

Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx

You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.

It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.

"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."

You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?

You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.

"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.

"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.

"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.

Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.

"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.

"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.

Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.

"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.

Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.

"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.

You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.

"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.

You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.

"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.

Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.

"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.

"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.

"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."

You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.

You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."

"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.

"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.

"Bye, Cillian..."

Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.

Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.

"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.

You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.

"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"

"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.

"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."

The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?

You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.

"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.

"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"

"I...."

"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.

"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.

"Y/N..."

"Cillian..." You repeated.

His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.

"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"

"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.

"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.

"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."

"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."

"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.

"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"

"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"

"How long... have you... you known...?"

"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."

You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."

"What gave you the courage?"

"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."

"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."

Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.

"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.

You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.

He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.

"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.

"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.

"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.

His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.

"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.

You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."

"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.

"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"

"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."

"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.

"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."

The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."

"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.

He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.

"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.

"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."

"I feel the same way."

You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.

hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3

also sorry if there are any major mistakes!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction

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houseofchalamet · 1 year

Text

Biggest Fan

Pairing: Timothee Chalamet x f!Reader Summary: Reader has been absolutely filthy in the DMs and when she meets Timothée unexpectedly, he wants her to make good on her promises. Warnings: Smut (oral - male receiving), sexualizing a celebrity, technically a power imbalance, curse words. Word count: 2k

There was no way he’d ever see your DMs. He probably got thousands of messages a day; yours would get lost in a sea of countless others. And he was rarely ever on Twitter…

Still, you’d occasionally send some DMs anyway, just for the hell of it. It started tame. Telling him how much you loved his work, how excited you were for the next Dune movie… Small things like that.

And then the thirst started.

It was all because of the Oscars… The damn Oscars. God, he looked so good. You felt like you were going to explode the second the shirtless image of him appeared on your TV screen. In the heat of the moment, you whipped out your phone and began typing every lewd thought that popped into your head.

Everything about him was perfect, from his hair down to the smallest details, like the rings on his fingers. You drank in every image you could find of his bare chest. Before you knew it, you were composing the nastiest paragraph you’d ever written in your life (up until that point, at least) and hitting send without a second thought.

God, it’s almost unfair how perfect you are. You’re so fucking sexy in your sparkly little jacket. I wanna taste every inch of you. I want you to fuck my mouth and make me gag on your cock. I want your cum running down my throat. I want you to fuck me so hard and fast that all I know is your name. I want you to absolutely obliterate me. I wanna be your personal fuckdoll… I’m fucking dripping just thinking about it. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I’m such a needy slut for you.

That was just the first one, and as time went on, they grew more graphic. It became an outlet, a way to get all of this sexual energy out. Your messages ranged from short, innocent sentences to long, erotic paragraphs detailing all of the depraved things you wanted him to do to you.

But he’d never see it.

Right?

***

The club was full of drunk, sweaty bodies. You were perfectly content to stand in the corner all night with your best friend, Jess, and sway to the music, feeling the bass vibrate through the floor.

“Hey, isn’t he that guy you’re so obsessed with?” Jess asked, pointing discreetly to a group of guys in the corner.

Your jaw dropped as you realized you were standing in the presence of the Timothée Chalamet. He was with a group of friends and appeared to be having a good time. Your heart began to race in your chest.

“Come on,” Jess said, taking in your stunned appearance. She tugged your hand, starting to lead you in his direction, but you pulled back.

“Are you fucking insane? I can’t just walk right up to him, I’ll literally drop dead on the spot.”

“Okay, fine, don’t talk to him.” She held back a laugh at your outburst. “But you know if you don’t at least stand in the same general vicinity as him, you’ll hate yourself forever.”

Damn. You hated when she was right.

You both weaved through the crowd, strategically placing yourselves closer and closer every few moments without making it too obvious.

You fought the urge to keep glancing at him, though all you wanted to do was drink in his appearance. You weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to see him in person again.

Jess was talking about something Britney had said to her earlier - you weren’t really paying too much attention - when you tried to steal a glance at exactly the wrong moment.

His eyes met yours.

And instead of looking away and pretending nothing had happened like a normal person would in this circumstance, you froze. Your eyes widened, giving you a slight deer-in-the-headlights expression. He broke into that adorable, lopsided smile you loved so much.

Then, to your surprise, he started moving toward you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered to Jess.

“Wha-”

“Hey, I’m Timothée,” he said. Jess’s eyes widened, too, as she processed the situation. Holy fuck he was so close, you could smell him now. And he smelled good.

“I… I know,” you replied stupidly, the awe evident in your voice.

“I’m Jess, and this is (Y/N),” she stepped in for you. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled. His eyes flicked back to you. His brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side as he took you in, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Umm…” You pretended to think for a second, even though you’d definitely remember if you’d met this literal god before. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Hm… Weird. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

You shrugged this off; he’d probably met so many fans in so many countries, there was bound to be at least one other girl somewhere who somewhat resembled you.

He was extremely nice and offered to take photos with you. He hung around to chat for a few minutes before excusing himself back to his friends. Besides your general awkwardness - which he was probably used to, judging by the way he easily brushed it off - the interaction couldn’t have gone any better.

“He’s literally my future husband,” you told Jess dreamily as you both watched him walk away.

“Not if I marry him first,” she joked.

“Hey! At least share!” You pouted.

She jokingly stuck her tongue out at you, and then her eyes scanned the room. “Well, if my marriage to Timmy doesn’t pan out, I think I just found his replacement. Mind if I go dance?”

“Nah, go right ahead,” you replied. You leaned against a wall, focusing on your phone. You posted your photo with Timmy to Instagram, and then popped onto Twitter to make the photo your profile pic. Your moots were about to go feral. For a moment, your thumb hovered over the messages icon.

Ah, why not?

Hot sweatpants, cutie. I’ll make you sweat and pant;)

You chuckled a little to yourself. God, that was a cringey one. Still, it was just for your entertainment, so why not?

You continued scrolling through Twitter, enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame as you were bombarded by a million questions, each more unhinged than the last (‘What did he smell like?’ ‘Who was he with?’ ‘Did you lick his hand? I would’ve licked his hand’ etc). You were in the middle of replying to someone when you heard a voice beside you.

“I know where I recognized you from!”

Your eyes met his green ones and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t expecting any more attention from Timothée, but obviously welcomed it.

“Where’s that?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant. He pulled up his phone and showed you the screen.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. You were horrified as you took in Timothée’s view of your DM’s. He must have turned his read receipts off. He didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment as he scrolled up in the conversation a little.

“This is one of my favorites, ‘My ass is grass and I want you to mow it.’ Or that time you just sent the link to Deep Throat by Cupcakke.”

“Oh, god,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You couldn’t even deny that it was you; the profile picture gave you away. You wanted to spontaneously combust. “I didn’t think you’d actually see that.”

“I could tell…” he chuckled. Thankfully, he scrolled past your more… needy messages and focused on the ironic ones. “‘I would let you break my back in half, spit in my mouth, dislocate my jaw, pee on me, rip out my intestines, and then hit me with your car and I’d still be your biggest fan.’”

“Ugh, God,” you groaned.

He smirked at you and you swore his eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second. When he spoke again, the joking tone had disappeared. “You think you’re my biggest fan?”

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You drew in a sharp breath. “I- uh… y-yeah.”

His voice dropped dangerously low; you were sure no one else could hear. “Would you be willing to prove it?”

His words swam around in your head and you struggled to make sense of them. Surely, you had misunderstood… You blinked, watching as his tongue swiped over his lips.

“Absolutely.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had taken your hand and led you down a hallway, somehow unseen by anyone else. He slipped you into a bathroom and shut the door behind you both.

Pressing you against the door, he attached his lips to yours.

You felt yourself relax into him as he kissed you deeply. Suddenly, your shy side had disappeared and in its place stood the horndog who had written all those DMs. You gently bit his bottom lip and he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he ground against you. You practically moaned; he was already hard. You reached down, stroking him through his pants. He was just as big as you’d imagined.

You pushed him back until he was leaning against the sink and were on your knees in an instant, tugging down his sweatpants. You licked your lips as his dick sprang free.

“Love reading your desperate little messages over and over again…” he sighed, his head dropping back a little as you stroked him slowly.

“Mmm… Yeah?” you smirked, taking the tip between your lips and sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped open as he gripped the counter for support. You could tell he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into you.

“Fuuuuckkk yeaaah,” he hissed. Slowly, teasingly, you began to descend on him. “God, I jack off nearly every day to them… Love seeing how needy you are for me.”

Your brain practically stopped working; the situation you found yourself in was too good to even begin to comprehend. Timothée Chalamet had just admitted to enjoying your depraved fantasies while his dick was in your mouth. Your pussy was dripping.

You hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head torturously slow. He seemed to understand the game you were playing and was happy to give you more.

“Sometimes I go onto your profile and scroll through your selfies and imagine fucking you just like you want me to.” One of his hands weaved into your hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure just yet. You took all of him in your mouth now, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You came back up slowly, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hissed again. You started to bob your head faster now. After a few moments, his restraint wavered and he began to thrust into you. You blinked up at him, eyes full of nothing but pure adoration as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking good for me… Gonna be a good girl and swallow my cum?”

“Mmmhm,” you hummed and he gasped at the feeling of your throat vibrating. He released another string of curses before you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. You absolutely savored the moment, taking in every drop you could. You never wanted to forget this feeling; this taste.

You bobbed your head a couple more times before pulling off, causing his legs to tremble. He caught his breath, pulling his pants back up. He looked down at you, knelt on the floor before him, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

He held out a hand to help you up, which you took. You frowned, unhappy that your encounter was over.

But as if reading your mind, he took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not finished with you yet, love.”

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hllywdwhre · 3 months

Text

Dress

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary: A year’s worth of random memories between the two of you

Warnings: age gap (Cillian is current age, reader’s age is unspecified but of legal age), mentions of slut shaming, smut, light choking, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it)

MDNI

Word Count: 3656

Notes: This is NOT based on real life. This is an AU and we love Yvonne in this household. Also this is my first attempt at writing smut in literal years so I apologize if it’s not the best💀

Based on the song ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

One hand gently placed on the middle of your back alerted you to his presence.

“You look stunning,” He said, low enough that no one else could overhear.

Luckily, your make-up artist had made sure you wore a full coverage foundation, as the blush tinting your cheeks would’ve been noticeable if not.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” you replied, glancing up at him with a small smile on your face.

You had been eyeing him the entire night, his salt-and-pepper hair hung around his face, only making his blue eyes pop due to the sharp contrast of the colors.

To anyone else, it would look like two co-stars speaking at the premiere of their movie. They wouldn’t see the way you two wanted to step closer to each other, to latch to each other’s hand, or share an excited and proud kiss.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Cillian had made sure to take things slow with you. You were younger and he was the leading actor in the movie and he wanted to make sure there was no question about power imbalances. He made sure you were comfortable and that you knew he would’ve never used that power over you to force you into something you weren’t comfortable with. It was up to you to make the first moves… from the first kiss to the first of others.

The day after the night all of the clothes the two of you wore had been shed for the first time, you’d found extremely small bruises on your hips from his grip the night before.

“I didn’t realize I had… I’m sorry,” Cillian apologized, kissing your cheek softly as his fingers ghosted over the bruises.

“Don’t apologize. I rather like the marks and the memories they bring back,” you said, turning to him and kissing him.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this

Your hands shook as you gave him the documents. Your character was supposed to be nervous, but the shaking of your hands went beyond your character.

You were surrounded by some of the greatest actors, and while you were no new actor yourself, it was still nerve wracking to stand in front of all of them, along with Chris, as they watched you. It was even more nerve wracking to have Cillian’s eyes following you — your character — as you entered the room and handed over the documents.

The shaking in your hands lessened once the scene was finished, but you still saw the way your tea wobbled just slightly when Cillian walked to you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him close to you, but at this point, the two of you had only just begun talking. The flirty undertones were nothing near enough for you to feel confident enough making a move.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Your heart stuttered every time he said your real name and not your character's name. When he called your name this time it was no different.

“How are you?” He asked, joining by your side as you walked away from the restaurant.

Emily had seen some of your works and was a fan of them; she had made sure to include you when inviting other members out to dinners like the one that had just finished. This was one of the few times Cillian had agreed to join and hadn’t had a reason he needed to stay behind.

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you thought his eyes lingered on the way the dress hugged your waist for a second longer than what would be seen as just looking you over.

Your pleasant conversation continued until you reached the front door of the guest house you were placed in until your part of the filming was completed.

“Green?” He questioned as his eyes trailed down your figure again and you smirked.

“Green has always been my favorite,” you said, feigning innocence.

“I’m sure it has… it’s starting to become my own,” he told you, one hand settling on your waist to bring you closer to him.

“You said that first bit like you don’t believe me, Murphy,” you teased as your arms came to wrap around his neck.

“Perhaps I don’t,” he replied. His forehead rested against yours, tone still light and teasing despite the tension and proximity.

“Well I can’t possibly reveal the truth,” you teased back.

“And what would that be?”

“That your agreeing with Robert’s comment about us seeming to become very close ‘best friends’ a couple days ago caused me a great deal of jealousy and I’ve noticed the way your eyes seem to linger when the costume department puts me in something green. I could never tell you that or the other truth.”

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

“What was the other truth?” He asked, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace as his hands gripped the frame of the bed.

“What?” You asked, confused on what he meant as your mind was only clouded with the pleasure he made you feel.

“The other truth, from earlier,” he said again, his hips still moving at the agonizingly slow pace.

You blushed as you realized what he meant and at the thought of revealing the little secret, despite the fact you were both naked with him buried inside of you.

At your lack of response, he moved one hand to grip your thigh and push it towards your chest, allowing himself to be buried even deeper inside you. The action caused your eyes to roll back,

“The other truth, doll,” he prompted.

“I wore the dress for more than just the color. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once we’re alone and I wanted you to stop holding back,” you told him.

“You could have just told me, didn’t need to spend an entire night teasing me,” he said and began picking up the pace of his hips again, causing your head to drop back and a moan to leave your lips.

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

Giggles filled the air as your glasses met in the bathtub you shared, the light pink liquid spilling over the sides.

“We have filming tomorrow and we’re both going to be incredibly hungover,” you said with a wide smile on your face.

“One of us will have to pretend to be okay. Most of the crew already has suspicions,” Cillian replied, still smiling.

“And what have they said about it?” You asked as you took another sip of wine, your interest peaked by his comment.

Cillian shook his head, a look of distaste taking over his features as some of the comments replayed in his mind.

“That bad?” You asked as your face fell.

“The comments we expected,” he replied as he took a large drink of wine.

“You’re lucky to be sleeping with a younger woman, but you need to watch out because I’m after fame and your money?” You asked him, your tone revealing that you already knew the answer.

Cillian nodded and your face fell further. You looked away from him and down at the wine in your glass.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” You asked.

The water sloshed around you as Cillian scooted himself closer to you, his finger coming underneath your chin and lifting your face to look him in the eyes.

“Everyone is going to have something to say. Even if we were sharing equally large roles and the exact same age.” He said in a firm voice.

You nodded in response as you knew he was right.

“They know nothing,” he said as he leaned in, kissing you softly.

Flashback when you met me

Your buzzcut and my hair bleached

You hadn’t stepped foot onto the set of “Oppenheimer” until a couple months after filming had begun, due to the nature of your smaller part. You played a wife to one of the scientists involved in the making of the atomic bomb and only had a couple lines, but you had captured Cillian’s eye on the first day.

After his divorce two years prior, he hadn’t tried looking for anyone else. He had focused on his kids and his career. You coming along and capturing his attention had been unexpected and he had tried to ignore the attraction he felt at first, only to fall victim to your charm during a break in filming on your first day on set.

A week later you two exchanged phone numbers. A month later and you two were sneaking around on set like you were children all over again. One of you would somehow sneak to the other after filming was complete for the day.

The first time he had fallen asleep at your place, the overnight stay being completely unplanned and you had awoken to hear him let out a surprised “fuck!” before he gathered up his things and left in a rush.

You still had another hour before you had to be on set and laid back down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Rolling over, you noticed the spot he had left was still warm and filled with his scent.

‘I hate this haircut so much. Way too short.’ He texted.

‘I hate this hair color. Way too blonde.’ You replied.

Even in my worst times

You could see the best of me

“It’s one simple fucking scene and I can’t get it right!” He shouted in frustration.

Cillian had shown up an hour prior, saying he needed your help running lines. He was supposed to film the scene where Oppenheimer brings the calculations to Einstein tomorrow and had been pressuring himself over it the entire week.

“It’s not simple though, Cill. You’ve been working nonstop and your character is facing a huge moral conflict in this scene that you have to manage to portray in a subtle way. You’re not just doing your best, you’re doing amazing,” you tell him, standing up and walking over to him.

You gently take the script from his hands and set it down then take his hand in yours to bring it to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his palm.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be frustrated,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around him.

Flashback to my mistakes

My rebounds, my earthquakes

“I didn’t say I was proud of it,” Cillian said with a laugh.

“Two weeks?” You questioned and your own laughter followed, showing you weren’t holding it against him.

“I haven’t been single since I was 27, I went a little crazy,” he explained as if trying to defend himself.

“I’m not passing judgment, Cill… as long as you didn’t catch anything,” you teased, causing both of you to burst into a fit of giggles.

Even in my worst lies

You saw the truth in me

“A home wrecking whore,” you said through tears, slapping the magazine down in front of him, “we didn’t even know each other two years ago and somehow I’m the reason your marriage ended.”

Yours and Cillian’s relationship hadn’t even been confirmed and already the cruel rumors had started. It was one photo of the two of you leaving a cast dinner, cropped around to look like it was just the two of you and conveniently not showing the other actors that were trailing right behind you.

Cillian was standing with his arms around you in seconds while he placed kisses on the top of your head then on both of your cheeks.

“You know better than to listen to that… that… shit,” he said, words failing what he really wanted to call that article, “you’re the woman who came around at the exact moment you were supposed to.”

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

Light flickered into the room, Cillian’s arms were wrapped around your waist, and, for once, the sound of an alarm wasn’t what woke you up. You rolled over in his arms, facing his chest. Even at the small size he had to be for his role, you could still bury your head in his chest and curl into him.

He remained asleep as you situated yourself against him. You weren’t able to fall asleep again, but you didn’t mind. The peace that morning brought made all the sneaking around and rumors seem trivial.

My one and only, my lifeline

I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this

Filming had wrapped a month ago and you and Cillian had both gone to your own separate homes. He had spent months with only phone calls to his kids to stay in contact with them and your own family had missed you. The two of you had made sure to stay in contact, phone calls made to each other when he was able to sneak away from his kids for a moment and once night had fallen.

This pattern lasted for only a couple weeks longer before you were planning a trip to Ireland and waking up back in his arms.

It wasn’t the sun that woke you up this time, though. It was the feeling of Cillian’s lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Cill,” you hummed with a smile coming across your face.

“Missed that sound,” he said, moving to hover over you as his kisses and nips at your skin trailed down your chest.

“Thought you heard it enough last night,” you joked. Your hands trailed to his hair as his lips attached to your nipple, causing a rush of pleasure to wash over you.

“Never getting enough of that,” he replied and his mouth attached to the other as soon as the words left his mouth.

Another moan left your mouth and your hips pushed against his, causing him to chuckle.

“Seems like you’re not getting enough either.” His lips began trailing down your stomach, one of his hands running up and down your thigh as he moved lower.

“Seems like you should do something about that,” you teased.

He offered no verbal response and instead continued his trail down your stomach and hips. Your legs spread apart as he positioned himself in between them and added new love bites to the ones from the night before.

“Cillian, please,” you moaned out, your hands still in his hair and pushing your hips towards him.

“Say it again, love,” he commanded. Both of his hands wrapped around each of your thighs and he looked up towards you. His usual bright blue eyes were dark with lust and the look of hunger he held was enough to make your body shiver in anticipation.

“Please, Cillian, I need it,” you begged.

Your head dropped back as his tongue ran across your folds and offered you some amount of relief. You were convinced his favorite place in the world was with his head buried between your legs. The way his tongue danced between your lips, taking in all of your taste and moaning at your unique flavor. The grip you had on his hair tightened when his tongue pushed into you and began exploring every centimeter of you before curling up to nudge against the spot inside you that made your legs shake.

Your legs tried to close around his head, but the grip his hands held on your thighs kept you from doing so. One of his arms wrapped around your thigh and his finger traced circles over your clit. Jolts of pleasure rushed through you and your moans grew louder. They were a constant praise of his name that only seemed to egg him on in his actions.

You felt your high rapidly approaching and you let out a needy whine,

“Cill, please, don’t stop,” you mewled, your hips jerking against his face. There had been plenty of times where he would sense your climax approaching and would pull away in order to tease you until you were begging, but luckily for you he skipped the teasing and continued on.

He pushed his face impossibly closer to you, his tongue still working inside of you and pushing upwards to cause your eyes to roll back in your head while his finger continued rubbing circles on your clit.

When your climax washed over you, his head stayed buried between your legs and drank up everything you gave him. It wasn’t until your moans had turned to overstimulated whimpering that he pulled away from you and rose up to capture your lips in a kiss.

You could still taste yourself on him when his tongue slid into your mouth. Both of your bodies were pressed against each other, his chest pushing against yours and his hips grinding against yours. His cock was pressing against you, teasing both you and him as you felt the head of it sliding between your folds.

“You’re teasing yourself as much as you’re teasing me,” you mumbled into the kiss, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re right, but I love hearing your little moans when you beg for it,” he replied, pulling away and making eye contact with you with an expectant look on his face.

“But don’t my moans sound better when you’re actually inside of me?” You questioned.

He seemed to agree with you since he didn’t offer any verbal response and instead moved away from you, grabbed your hips, and quickly flipped you over.

In the couple weeks since Oppenheimer had finished filming, he had started to put back on weight… and apparently muscle as the movement seemed to be easy for him.

You rose to your knees and kept your chest pressed to the bed, arching your back and pushing back towards him,

“Please, Cill, need you,” you moaned out in that pathetic tone you knew he loved.

“I know you do, kitten, just came and you’re already soaked again,” he taunted, lining his cock up with your entrance and pushing inside of you, “feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

“Feel so full with you inside me,” you moaned out and tangled your hands into the sheets.

Cillian’s hands came to rest on your hips, giving you brief flashbacks of the first time you had slept together and he had left bruises on your hips, though the thought quickly left your mind when he began moving his hips. He gave you only a moment before his grip tightened, his hips picked up pace, and he was bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

He had been able to read your body in ways no one else could since the very first time the two of you had been together. After the first couple thrusts he had changed the angle of his hips to hit your g-spot and cause your moans to heighten in volume.

“That’s right, kitten, let it out. No more sneaking around and having to keep your voice down. Let me hear those pretty little moans,” he coaxed, keeping a steady rhythm with his thrusts and making sure to repeatedly push against that spot inside of you.

A mixture of his name and swear words fell from your lips like a prayer. You could feel your second orgasm of the morning already approaching and you clenched around him, trying to give him some kind of warning as the only thing you seemed to be capable of thinking of was his name.

One of Cillian’s hands moved from your hip to around your throat, pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your hips, his fingers circling your clit to edge you on while he continued his thrusts into you,

“Cum for me. Wanna hear you moan my name as you cum wrapped around my cock,” he commanded.

Your head dropped back onto his shoulder as you came, your moans and his mixing together as your orgasm only spurred him on to reach his. After a couple more thrusts his grip on you loosened and he slowed his movements down as the two of you rode out your highs.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

…

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Both of you laid back down on the bed, breathing heavily as you caught your breath. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you to him, kissing you softly for a moment before pulling away.

“You’ve made quite the mark on me, love” Cillian said, looking at you with a small smile.

A smile of your own crossed your face and a blush spread across your cheeks,

“I thought you left the marks on me,” you replied in a teasing tone, causing a small bit of laughter to leave his lips.

“Had to make sure it was mutual,” he replied in the same tone, leaning in to kiss you again.

“It definitely is,” you said with a smile against his lips.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x reader smut #Cillian Murphy x y/n smut

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fatuismooches · 11 months

Text

love from afar.

synopsis: The long absence of your lover has taken a toll on your heart, so it's only natural you find a new way to reach him.

includes: childe, scaramouche w/ gn! reader

notes: The latest TCG event got me thinking about how cute it would be for Kirara to deliver literal love letters to people for you. Lots and lots of fluff, the Harbingers miss you dearly. (I know Scara's part doesn't exactly line up with the canon timeline of the game, but let's just ignore it for the sake of fluff.)

Your boyfriend was a Fatui Harbinger. The mere phrase was enough to make many, even the strongest of warriors, run cold with fear. But when you heard the name of your beloved, it only filled you with the warmest of feelings - love.

And you knew more than anything in this world that he loved you. That was enough to make every day worthwhile, even though he was oceans across from you.

But, being the lover of a Fatui Harbinger was no easy task. It meant not being able to have the normalcy most people craved, to wake up to your partner every morning and enjoy the blissful sensation, to go out to restaurants and chat. To only be able to watch on as your friends move on and get married, maybe start families or adopt some pets, and settle into a sweet, domestic life.

Due to this, it had come to your attention that you missed your lover dearly. He had been away for quite some time, and although you exchanged letters, the length of time it took to arrive from overseas was not very pleasing. Which is why when you heard of the Komaniya Express’ impeccable international delivery service, your interest was piqued.

Though when you went to the building where the company resided, you were having second thoughts. Yes, they could deliver anything to anyone, but to your boyfriend was another story. He was… well, you know, so you tried to back out of the deal. But the owner pressed you, restating their reliability.

“You see, it’s not that I don’t have trust in Komaniya Express. I know they are quite reliable, but you see, the person I wish to deliver something to is…”

“Is?”

“A Fatui Harbinger.”

—

Scaramouche:

“A F-Fatui Harbinger?” The owner’s jaw dropped. “Well, I must say even we haven’t ever been asked to deliver something to someone of that caliber…”

“I know… so um, I think it’s best if I-”

“I want to deliver it!” A chipper voice sounded and a pretty girl popped up to the side of you. The first thing you noticed was her cat-like pupils, and then the two tails, and then the… paws!

“Oh Kirara, there you are. Back already?”

“Uh-huh! And now I’m interested in this job! Please, tell me more, and I swear I won’t fail.”

As much as you wanted this letter to be delivered, you didn’t want to send her out without notifying her of your lover’s… frequent outbursts. “Kirara, this is very sweet of you, but he has, um… a temper. It means he will probably be mean to you… and other things.”

“Don’t worry, cherished customer! I’ve already dealt with a bunch of clients with rather rude temperaments. I promise I will see to it that your package will reach his hands safely!”

You couldn’t help but smile in relief, and hand her your items. “Well… here’s a description. He has gorgeous indigo hair and eyes and wears traditional Inazuman clothes, and a large, beautiful hat too. You can’t miss him,” you said, almost dreamily, to which the two other Inazumans raised their eyebrows. Quickly you cleared your throat embarrassingly. “Anyway, he’s somewhere in Mondstadt. I’m sure if you follow some Fatui agents you’ll find him.”

“Oh, and a tip. Before you say anything to him, say my name first. He’ll probably be more inclined to listen to you if you do,” you recommended. Not many people knew of your relationship with Scaramouche, so uttering your name was sure to get his attention.

—

You weren’t joking when you said this Harbinger had a horrible temper. A very severe one in fact, as Kirara had just witnessed him berate a few of his subordinates, and now she was kind of having second thoughts.

“Who’s there?” Suddenly, Scaramouche’s piercing eyes were on her, hand on his Delusion, and she meowed in surprise.

“[Name] sent me!!” Kirara blurted out to which the Harbinger widened his eyes, and then quickly narrowed them again, now even more on guard if that was possible.

“How do you know them? Speak carefully,” he nearly seethed. Kirara’s whole body was on edge.

“I’m your courier from Komaniya Express, and I’m just here to deliver something. See here, it’s a package from [Name]!” she flew through her words and quickly presented a sealed envelope, and Scaramouche immediately recognized the sealing wax on it. Lavender Melon. Wordlessly he snatched it and rubbed with it his thumbs.

It was real. He didn’t know how it got here, but he wasn’t going to wait a second longer to open it. Although he remained expressionless, he worried. Was it urgent? Did something happen? Were you hurt? His eyes scanned the letter.

Kuni, my one and only,

Ta-da! I bet you weren’t expecting this! Did you miss me, pretty boy?

You see, Inazuma has this amazing international express delivery thing, and it's supposedly really fast and efficient. Oh, and don’t worry, they don’t open the packages, so it’s completely safe! I know I always wait for one of your letters to arrive from wherever you are, but I haven’t gotten any. Is that because of the distance or have you not been writing…? It’d better be the former!

By the way, the other day, the head shrine maiden, came up and spoke to me. You know, the one with the big fox ears? I don’t know why she chose now of all times, considering we’ve been together for a while…

But she didn’t ask about you. All her questions were centered around me. I guess she just wanted to learn the kind of person I was, but now I understand why people think she’s scary… But back to the subject! Look at these photos I took!

[Attached are some images of beautiful Inazuman scenery, from different angles and locations. One of the photos has a blanket with two cups of tea set out. Lastly, there is a picture of you.]

I went to our usual spots by myself this time. I know it’s our thing, but you’ve been gone for so long this time. I am used to waiting, but you’ve been gone far longer than usual, no? I even forced myself to drink that bitter tea you like so much. I don’t know how you can stand that… And don’t worry, I’m fine. No hilichurls, no Treasure Hoarders, no one at all bothered me.

Keep the photos. That one photo you carry around of me is far too old, you know. This one was taken with a new model of the Kamera! What? Didn’t think I knew? Anyway, I think they’re pretty nice to look at. Hopefully, they’ll remind you of me, hehe. And motivate you to come back quicker to my arms, hmm?

In all seriousness, I hope you’re well. I miss you dearly. You occupy my mind so much, I could never forget you even if I tried. The few pictures I have of you are barely keeping me at bay, Kuni.

I hope that eventually, there’ll be a day when I never leave your side, Kunikuzushi.

Scaramouche did not react, but inside he felt a twinge of loneliness too. Fuck, he missed you so much as well. Worse, the company he had were useless Fatui agents and his other unreliable Harbingers. And now that irritating kitsune was bothering you? When you belonged to him? His position as a Harbinger was beginning to drive him crazy.

How long had it been since he lay on your chest, falling asleep to the lull of your heartbeat? Been able to hear your lovely voice sing his praises, his cheeks growing hot? How he wanted you to always be by his side as well. But you needed not to worry.

Yes… when he reached godhood, that day will come true. You wouldn’t have to worry again.

“Oh, and if you’d like to write a reply and have me deliver it, that’d be great! [Name] seems to have been waiting for other letters from you for a while… they’ve already covered the cost for it too,” the youkai’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He had forgotten she was here. Though he still did not fully trust this being, he did hear about this company, being from Inazuma and all. And you deserved a reply most of all because clearly, the competent fools were not delivering his letters to you properly. He’ll have to teach them a lesson.

“Same spot, same time, tomorrow,” Scaramouche’s voice was the same irritated bite, as he turned around and disappeared.

—

A few days had passed and you were anxiously awaiting Kirara’s return. You envied her, being able to go where she wanted. To see your lover so easily. But you were used to the waiting game. So used to it, you knew exactly the amount of days that had gone by since you last saw Kuni. So accustomed to loneliness, that you counted the lines on your flooring to pass the time. It was your routine, so as soon as you heard the first knock at your door, you sped to open it at lightning speed.

And lo and behold, it was the person you wanted to see the second most, Kirara. In her hands rested a new envelope, definitely not the one you sent, which could only mean one thing. Your heart soared.

“Hello, dear customer, [Name]! I have successfully delivered your package to Scaramouche! I have a response from here right here,” she presented you with the letter and you had to resist the urge to snatch it. But you were quite impressed that she made it to the Scaramouche.

“Much better than those lousy Fatui agents, hmph… too scared to deliver a mere letter,” you muttered under your breath. “So, how’d it go? I hope he wasn’t too bad?”

“When I mentioned your name, he actually got more defensive, wondering how I knew you, haha. I was a bit scared for my tails for a second.”

“O-Oh, it makes sense he’d do that. I’m sorry I put you through that, Kirara…” You should have known that wasn’t a good idea. Scaramouche was extremely protective when it came to you. Your relationship was kept as secret as possible for a reason, as Scaramouche certainly did not have the best reputation.

“But then when he read your letter, his face softened all of a sudden…you must be really amazing if you could calm his temper down that quick!” Kirara meowed in excitement. “Humans are so amazing! And now, I thank you for choosing Komaniya Express!”

“Haha, thank you, Kirara. We go a long way back… but I am quite pleased with the efficiency of your delivery. I think I will ask for your services again. Ah, and I’ll make sure to leave a five-star review for you!”

Kirara clasped her hands with joy and bowed deeply. “Thank you, thank you!” she squealed with happiness. “I’ll leave you to open your letter now! Thank you very much!”

You watched her leave but quickly slammed the door to rush into your room, jumping on your bed. You traced the outline of the seal, heart rapidly beating. Finally, something from your Kuni. You carefully opened the letter from Scaramouche as if it was the most precious thing you owned. Your heart sang at his familiar handwriting and you read each word slowly, trying to make the excitement last as long as possible.

To [Name],

I was surprised to see a youkai in Mondstadt, but it all made sense after I learned it was one of your childish antics again. Do you ever get tired of being a fool? …Though the fault is partially on me for believing these worms could fulfill any kind of job. From now on, I shall find another way for you to receive my letters. I am surrounded by brainless pests everywhere I turn here. No one is competent enough. Though you are an exception.

The last time I saw you, you had just recovered from being sick. Are you really well enough to be prancing about the place? If I come back and you’re not in good shape, there will be consequences. Make sure to use the recipes I left for you. They’re specifically good for frail human bodies like yours.

I hope you stopped falling asleep in the bath too. I’m not there with you to wake you up, so at least try to be alert.

Also, do not speak to the pink-haired kitsune. She will only bring trouble. When I come back, I expect you to tell me every single thing she asked you.

I don’t have a picture of you on me. You’re an idiot. Though, the clothes I brought suit you. Wear them more often.

Business here should finish up soon. But there’s a particularly annoying person in this world now, a blonde-haired traveler. If you see them, don’t talk to them. They’re dangerous.

I’ve attached a recipe for hash browns from Mondstadt. You always go on and on about how much you wanted to try different cuisine, so next time I come, I’ll have some more ready. Let’s see if you can make something better than my Shimi Chazuke.

I’ll see you soon. I expect to see you waiting with a cup of bitter tea.

And, the day where neither of us have to worry again is approaching. The preparations are already being made.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. His kindness was hidden under layers of mean words, his concern for you peeking through the words even if he tried not to show it. The puppet with a heart more human than he thought.

Your Kunikuzushi.

Though you wondered what that last line could mean…? You hoped he wouldn’t do something drastic.

Childe:

“Well… a Fatui Harbinger does sound like it could be a problem, even for our best courier…” Your shoulders drooped even though you knew that was true, but you still tried to defend Childe.

“I know how this sounds, but he’s actually quite nice to other people when he’s not on business… Even Yoimiya and the neighborhood kids can vouch for him!” You wanted to express how much of a sweetheart he was, but you thought that might harm his reputation with the members of the Fatui. Who were probably nearby, watching you from somewhere because of their orders from Childe.

“That sounds like an interesting job!” A cheery voice echoed from behind you and a girl appeared, one with two tails. Ah, she must be a youkai.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Kirara, and rest assured, I’ll deliver the package to this Harbinger of yours!” she nodded while smiling brightly.

“Really? Are you sure that you want to? I know it sounds daunting…”

“Don’t worry! I can’t work for Komaniya Express if I couldn’t deliver anywhere. And if Yoimiya really does like him, then I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

“Oh… thank you, thank you! Well, at this time he’ll be in Liyue Harbor. But it’s hard to get his exact location… so if you can’t find him, go to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and ask for Zhongli. He’ll definitely know where Childe is. Thanks so much!” you happily handed the letter and small box of toys to Kirara, excited for her return.

Childe was a Harbinger, but Ajax was the sweetest of men. You weren’t worried about anything happening, just the matter of Kirara actually finding him.

—

Locating the eleventh Harbinger was not as hard as Kirara thought it’d be. It seemed like he was quite well-known in Liyue. She spotted his ginger hair as he exited what looked to be an expensive restaurant and immediately scurried up to him.

“Hello, sir! Are you Childe, by any chance?” Childe was momentarily surprised at the girl initiating conversation, because of his Harbinger status and all.

“That’s me, alright. Is there something you need from me?”

“Great! See here, I have a package from [Name] to deliver to you.” Childe immediately straightened up at the sound of your lovely name.

“[Name]? Are you friends with them?” Childe’s eyes twinkled with interest. He’d love to hear about how you were doing.

“Oh, not quite,” Kirara laughed. “I’m just a humble courier that was sent to deliver this very important package for you! So please, sign here. Oh, but don’t worry about [Name]. They looked to be quite healthy when I saw them,” she quickly reassured him. “Feel free to send something back to them by the way. I’ll deliver it!”

He always felt so exhilarated with you, comparable to how he felt when he battled. Always so full of surprises, keeping him on his toes. Quickly, he ripped open the letter to see what words you weaved on the pages.

My beloved Ajax,

Hello, my dearest! I hope this letter finds you well. I know you said you’d be back soon, but I couldn’t resist trying to contact you through… you know. Alternate means. The Fatui agents never deliver our stuff quickly enough!

First, I know sometimes Teucer visits you in Liyue, so I’m sending over some plushies I’ve sewn for him. He still likes Ruin Guards, doesn’t he? Well, now he’s got the whole Ruin Machine collection. Please pass them on to him whenever you see him, and tell him I miss him dearly of course!

Secondly, well… I miss you more! I’ve been counting the days until I could see your pretty face again. I’ve been training as you told me to, but I’m afraid it’s kind of hard when we’ve been separated for so long… but I promise, I’ll be a worthy sparring partner! And, the neighborhood kids are asking me every day when you’re coming back. I’m going to have to start hiding in my house at this point.

Ah, how can I survive without a strong, handsome young man to carry all of my groceries home? Without his powerful arms to lift me everywhere I please? I truly am at a loss… (Am I making you miss me more? I hope it’s working.)

Oh yes, I was thinking, you and I have never been to the beaches in Inazuma together! I’m sure they’re nothing like the ones in Liyue, but they’re still pretty nonetheless. We should definitely go and collect some seashells and play in the water! (And you better not use your Hydro Vision to your advantage again!)

Hopefully one day, the water fights can be snow ball fights instead, hmm? ;)

Love you!

P.S.: If I don’t receive a couple of dozen kisses the next time you visit, you’re being banned from cuddles.

Childe couldn’t help but smile and laugh as he read your letter. You were so, so cute. How did he get so lucky? And now he wanted to snatch you away to Snezhnaya even more. He wanted you to meet the rest of his family already.

“Would you wait here for a bit? I want to respond to them right away.”

—

You were just returning home when Kirara popped up out of nowhere, waving something in the air which you immediately recognized to be one of those fancy envelopes Childe always used. You nearly tripped on the trips as she came bounding up to you.

“I’m glad I caught you, [Name]! I’ve successfully delivered your package and have a reply here!” She placed the letter, and also a few hefty bags of what you already knew was Mora. It wasn’t a letter from Childe if he wasn’t trying to spoil you somehow.

“I’m so glad you found him! I hope it wasn’t too much trouble?” Kirara smiled and shook her head.

“He seemed to really miss you. He kept rereading your letter over and over. I think he was kind of disappointed when I didn’t have any news of you…” You couldn’t help but laugh. Childe really lived up to his name sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just so happy you could deliver my stuff. Thanks once again!” Kirara bowed deeply and you waved her off.

You decided to sit down on the porch of your house. It was rather beautiful as Childe had purchased the loveliest one he could of course. With extreme care, you opened the letter and began reading.

Dearest [Name],

When I saw this lady with two tails, I thought she would be a great sparring partner. But then when she came up to me bearing a package from you, I was even more surprised! Missed me that much, hmm? Well, you’re not the only one… Waking up to a cold bed isn’t what I prefer.

Passing the time without you has been difficult. Liyue has some good fishing spots, but I miss having you next to me trying not to scream when you finally managed to catch something. Haha, have you been training in that too without me, love?

Anyway, you’re in luck. Teucer somehow got away and is in Liyue again… but I can’t be too mad. He’s been playing with your toys the whole day and making me join him too. Now, I can’t let you give such wonderful gifts to my family and leave you empty-handed! Here’s a couple of million Mora. I know that’s not much, but all the other gifts are stuck in transit… I hope they get there soon. There are clothes, jewelry, books, and, actually, let’s just wait until it comes.

I’m sorry to make you wait so long, baby. You’ve been so understanding of my duty and all, and I know you don’t deserve this. But I promise to make it up to you when I’m back. And, you know, I have been thinking about this for a while. You should come to live in Liyue. We still won’t be together all the time, but I’m stationed there more than the other nations.

You can use my place to stay, it’s quite luxurious of course, and everyone here is very friendly. Mr. Zhongli in particular would like to meet you. So just think about it, okay? Also, the beach sounds quite nice. I hope you’re ready to be soaking wet because I’m not going to let you get away. (I will be using my Vision. It’s too funny to hear you squeal.)

Speaking of, I hear there’s going to be a festival in Inazuma soon, Yoimiya told me about it. I’ve never been to one, but it sounds rather exciting. There’s even a fighting competition! We should go together. And don’t worry, I’ll win all of the games at the stalls for you.

I have so many things to tell you when I get there. I also have a bunch of souvenirs from my travels too… there’s a story for each one. I hope you’re prepared! I expect to hear every detail about your life, too.

P.S.: I’ll hold you to that threat, comrade. I’ll be counting every single kiss, so don’t think about escaping.

P.P.S.: I’d still destroy you in a snowball fight. But we’ll see when you come to Snezhnaya.

You couldn’t contain your love and jumped up and down, holding the letter to your chest. How could a man be so sweet, charming, kind, and more? The list went on. But you couldn’t help but laugh at his handling of Mora. You had insisted every time he needn’t send you this much money, but alas.

Liyue, huh? You had never stepped foot outside of Inazuma, especially with the previous Vision Hunt Decree, but now perhaps would be a good time to expand your horizons.

Especially when your beloved Ajax was there with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #scaramouche fluff #childe fluff #scaramouche headcanons #childe genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #wanderer fluff

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sinofwriting · 2 months

Text

Judo Tracks - Ollie Bearman

Words: 4,535 Summary: What happens when an Formula 2 (cough and now technically kind of an F1) driver and an Olympic gold medalist Judoka start dating? Note(s): Thank you so much to V on Kofi for commissioning this! I had so much fun writing it (and I got to do so much research and take so many notes for). Reader does Judo. Uta Abe is the inspiration for reader and I’ve used her amazing achievements as readers as well. Also, mentions of blood, injuries, pain. I also completely changed the 2024 F1 season because of Ollie being called up for Saudi Arabia (I literally could not help myself). Fun fact: Ollie Bearman with just his rookie F2 season in 2023 has just over triple the amount of points needed for a super license (aka the license for F1).

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

She takes a deep breath, eyes closed as she lets the feeling of the sun hit her skin, pouring into her as she stretches out on the grass. Her thighs and calves are burning, her big toe has split open again, Jain will have her head for it. Her arms are loose by her side, wrist aching as she rotates them. Letting out the breath, her eyes open.

The brick in front of her is rugged, chipped, and would be considered peeling if it was painted instead. It’s like cinder. The cinder at the first gym she went to, not old but worn down and chipped at from overuse and abuse. She still has a piece of the first cinder block she broke skin on, blood speckling a small corner of it. Another piece from the first one she broke. Her hand throbs at the memory and she flexes it.

Her eyes flicker to her hands. Calluses and scars decorate them. Dents and bumps, spots dark and light. Clenching them, she watches as the skin stretches over bone, more scars seeming to pop out, becoming angrier. It’s a miracle, she supposes that the skin of her hands is still soft.

“You didn’t take your phone.” She doesn’t flinch at the sudden sound of a voice or the body that plops down next to her in the grass. “I needed to breathe.” They huff out a laugh. “Kid. No one is going to tell you not to breathe. We’d actually prefer it.” They nudge her shoulder lightly, teasing, but she doesn’t return it, can’t. Her eyes are still glued to her hands, to the skin she can see, the bones underneath them. They sigh and it feels like a punch to the gut. “What’s going on?” “I fucked up.” Tears are stinging her eyes and it makes her dig her nails into palms, body starting to shake. “I had one chance and I fucking blew it. This is my thing.” She shakes her head. “This is the one thing I have, the one thing I’m good at and I blew my chance.” “You didn’t blow your chance. Ridgle did a dirty move, you got injured. It happens. You’ll recover, you are recovering. You won’t make it this year, but next year? You’re gonna win, kid.” She looks at Jain, tears in her eyes that she still won’t let fall, a quiver to her lip, and her voice so small and high at just fourteen. “Really?” “Really, kid.” Jain smiles, patting her on the shoulder. It makes her nod and she forces herself to take a few breaths, forces the tears away, and then she looks away sheepishly at her feet, at her left foot. “I might’ve split open my big toe again.” Jain lets out a groan, “Dammit kid. Didn’t I just fix that up for you?”

—

She doesn’t want to be here. She knows that, Jain knows that, her parents know it, Amy knows it and she’s sure that the poor driver who was forced to drive her here knows it as well.

Hunkering down in a corner, she drains the glass of whiskey she managed to snag from the bar. The taste makes her nose wrinkle, and the sound of a chuckle makes her tense.

“Strong?” She turns her head, eyebrows furrowed for all of a second before they loosen from her eyes widening. The guy was cute. A little boyish, but she was constantly surrounded by guys that weren’t. It was a lot of weird large muscles, clear scars and repeatedly broken noses, baby fat gone as soon as their balls dropped. Not that she notices any baby fat as she looks closer at his face. “No.” She finally says. “Really weak, watered down, probably.” He huffs out of a laugh. “Wouldn’t think that they’d served watered down drinks, but who knows how they want to save their money.” “If they wanted to save their money, they wouldn’t throw this event.” She scowls. He nods, smile a touch sympathetic now. “Not a fan.” “Not in my job description.” She corrects. “It is a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” She nods fast. “Yes! So ridiculous.”

He smiles at her, extending a hand. “My names Ollie.” “Y/N.” She tells him, shaking his hand. He repeats her name to himself after letting go of her hand. “Want to ditch with me?” She looks at the rest of the large room, eyes lingering on the bar, but she wouldn’t need that if she left. “Absolutely.”

—

“So,” she asks two hours after they’ve left, a shared meal between them. “What sport?” He looks at her amused. “Guess.” Her eyes narrow at him, and she tugs the fries away from him a bit. Cheekiness didn’t get you fries as far as she was concerned. Her fingers lightly tap against the table as she lets her eyes drink his form in.

He was lithe, no heavy, thick, full muscles. But he was muscled, a little bit like a swimmer or a runner, all hidden strength. His build alone ruled out MMA, boxing, and sports like it. Also, the perfect unbroken nose was a dead give away. Maybe football, but he was a little awkward in certain movements that didn’t line up with the few footy players she had been around. He was tall too, which made things even more interesting.

She wondered if somehow he made it into basketball or baseball, primarily American sports, and they had their international players, but she had never heard of a British one.

Her eyes linger on his neck, the muscle was weirdly developed. “You aren’t one of those guys who do the slap competitions, are you?” He laughs, shaking his head. “No.” She hums, “I’ve got no idea. Is it something weird? Something I’ve never heard of?” “Padel. Junior champion.” He tells her with a smile. Her eyes immediately dropped to his hands. “Bullshit.” He laughs again. “Not padel. I’m an F2 driver.” “Ah.” She nods, leaning back in her seat. “That explains the neck.”

—

“Ollie!” She looks behind her at the sound of Jain’s voice. Just barely catching a glimpse of Ollie before she has to straighten back out, she only had a few more minutes of her run to do then her cooldown, she could wait. “Hi, Jain. How are you doing?” “I’m doing good.” They smile at the kid. “She’s keeping me busy of course. How are you, though? Nervous for your next race?” “A little bit. I feel like I haven’t done enough y’know? Hopefully Baku will be better for me.” Jain shakes his head. “You're doing great for a rookie Ollie. I know this one,” they tilt their head towards her. “Is excited to be going with you. Hasn’t shut up about it.” They tease. “I can hear you, Jain.” She says, taking a drink of water as she slows the treadmill down a bit. “And I will kick your ass again.” Ollie stifles a laugh as he watches Jain roll their eyes at the threat, though he doesn’t miss the way her trainer pats at their ribs.

He watches her finish out her workout, trying not to let his eyes linger too much on her, but knows he doesn’t succeed by the way Jain snorts and how she seems to purposely draw out a few stretches.

Reaching into a fridge, Jain tosses a drink at her. “Drink that, shower, and get out of the gym. I will see you both when you're back from Baku and do not go to the gym more than Ollie does. This is your rest period. You go when he goes and don’t push, even with a trainer.” “Got it.” She nods, smiling. “Thank you, Jain.” They smile at her. “Of course, kid. Now have fun both of you and I’ll make sure to watch the races Ollie.” “Thanks, Jain.”

The two watch as the trainer goes to the back part of the gym where an office is. When the door shuts she finally looks at Ollie. “Hi.” He grins at her, eyes getting all crinkly. “Hi.” She wants to dart forward to hug him, kiss him, but she’s all too aware of the sweat covering every inch of her body. Twisting the cap off the drink, she quickly chugs it, not really wanting to taste what’s arguably the worst flavor of all the drinks that Jain makes her drink. Tossing the container in the bin, she gives him a sorry smile. “Let me shower and then we can,” she gestures between their bodies. “Darling,” blood instantly rushes to her cheeks. “I don’t need to wait for you to shower.” And before she can protest, his hands are framing her face and his lips are against hers.

Her eyes instantly flutter close at the contact, sighing into the kiss as her own hands come up to rest just below his wrists. Keeping his hands there despite what she had just said. She doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just soft presses of their lips, but she pulls away when he gives a small lick to her bottom lip.

“Trust me, Ollie, you don’t want that until after I brush my teeth.” The taste of the drink still lingered a bit on her tongue despite how quickly she had downed it. His lips form a pout, but he nods. “Alright. Be quick though? I’ve missed you.” She presses another kiss to his lips. “I’ll be quick.”

—

Ollie crosses the finish line and the whole garage goes nuts, just like it did yesterday, just like it somewhat did when Ollie managed to get pole with bent steering the day before that one.

There are tears in her eyes as she jumps around and screams with everyone at Prema. All of them start heading over to parc fermé and she goes to stay back, but René is pushing her along, passing her to the lead mechanic on Ollie’s car who puts himself between her and the rest of the people behind him as she’s nearly squished against the bars. It’s a sweet gesture, one that would make her laugh if she wasn’t overwhelmed with pride and happiness for Ollie.

She watches as he parks the car, watches as he gets out, watches as he runs over to throw himself into the arms of the mechanics just beside her. Watches as he tries to touch everyone at Prema, as he tries to talk to them but his helmet muffles his voice. Watches when he’s set back down and he notices her. Watches as he immediately starts wrestling with his helmet, yanking it, the neck part she can never remember the name for, and his baklava before he’s got his free hand on her neck and is drawing her in for a kiss.

—

She smiles at Ollie as she walks into the locker room. There’s a bit of worry in his eyes and she knows it's from how she’s got an arm around her ribs, but he also looks proud. “What’d you think?” “It was amazing. I mean, I had never watched any of this before meeting you, but it was so cool. And that kick you did at the end, it looked so easy!” She huffs out a laugh at his excitement, wincing a little at the pulling it does, but she ignores the pain. Jain wasn’t forcing her to sit down and get looked at yet, which meant she had just enough time to do this: extending her free arm, her fingers clutch at Ollie’s shirt, pulling him forward and down a bit to press their lips together.

“Congrats on winning.” He murmurs against her lips after a moment, the both of them just taking the moment. Blood rushes to her cheeks at the soft murmur. “Thank you for coming.” “Anytime I can, I’ll be here.” He tells her, echoing her words from Baku.

—

Her hands are clasped together, tucked under her chin as she watches the screens, her brows occasionally pressing together as she watches the cars go around. Feeling a small ache in her right foot, she shifts her weight only to gasp out in pain.

“Fuck.” She breathes. The man standing next to her tears his eyes away from the screen, and an arm is quickly wrapped around her waist. “Let’s get you sat down somewhere.” She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I just put too much weight on it.” “Y/N,” he warns. “You need to stay off it. At least let someone get you a chair.” “David, I’ll be okay. Continue watching and I’ll find somewhere to sit.” He gives her a look, hearing the lie, but his eyes are quickly drawn to the car pulling into the garage.

She quickly moves away, wincing with every step and she just knows that when Ollie gets out of the car and is done with his press he’s going to be pissed. Jain was going to be pissed as well when Ollie inevitably tells them.

“Stop.” She halts at the sound of Andrea’s voice. Turning around, she gives Charles’ trainer a smile. “Hi Andrea. Will you still be helping Ollie with his cooldown after quali?” He gives her an unamused look. “I know that your knee is hurting. Now, come.” She wants to protest, but he gives her a look and she follows after him.

Entering Charles’ driver room, she easily hops onto the massage bed, folding her skirt up so the shorts she’s wearing underneath are exposed along with her knees.

He hisses as he looks at her left. “You’ve been putting too much weight on it.” “It’s fine, Andrea. I can’t just rest.” “You can when the muscle needs to heal. And it will heal.” Her jaw clenches and her eyes lock onto the clock in the room. “It will.” She gives him that, just like she gave the doctors, Ollie, and Jain. “But will it go back to normal? Not be weakened?” She shrugs. “Who knows? I just know that I got distracted during a match and nearly blew out my knee. So much for another Olympic medal. My career is over.” He scoffs, opening a jar of ointment. “Your career is not over, far from it. There are still months before the Olympics as well. You are young, just nineteen. You heal quicker, you just need to give your body time to rest, to heal. You can’t stand for so long or workout and train as you normally would. It needs time to recover.” She winces as he starts applying the cream. “I can’t though. It’s the Olympics. All I’m supposed to be doing is training and now I can’t. That lack of training could cost me.” “And training now will cost you a knee. It nearly blew out, but didn’t. You continue like this, it will and then your career will be over.”

“You have to take it easy.” He stresses after a few minutes of just silence in the room, finally done with the ointment and gentle massage to it. “I know Jain has told you that. Your doctors, Ollie. And I know that maybe my opinion doesn’t matter much.” She looks at him for the first time since entering the room with a scoff, frowning as tears threaten to fall from her eyes. “Of course it matters.” “Then listen.” He takes her hands in his, grateful that he wiped them with a towel already. “You will recover from this, heal from this, and you will be stronger because of it.” She shakes her head, tears falling and the words that have been building up inside of her since her injury happened come spilling out. “I’m scared, Andrea. This is nothing like my last injury. And I thought my career was over then. This is so much worse and Ollie,” she sobs. “Ollie has so much to worry about, the car wasn’t good last weekend and now he’s in an F1 car, in a Ferrari, I can’t add more to him. I don’t know what to do without Judo. Without the competitions, the training. I’ve been doing this since I was two. I don’t know anything else.” “And you don’t have to worry about knowing anything else. Not for nearly ten years. But think about it like this, while you rest, you think about your future. You think about your five year, ten year plans. You try some new things. You talk to Ollie and Jain. Because I know that you haven’t talked to them either.” She nods, sniffling as she wipes away her tears. “Okay.” She whispers. “Good.” He nods, before wrapping her up in a hug.

“Now, I’m going to get you a chair and you are going to sit in it and watch the rest of quali in it, yes?” “Yes.”

—

“Congrats on your first F1 points, baby.” She murmurs to Ollie hours after the race, finally back at their hotel room after the celebrations that had occurred and the team debriefs. He beams at her. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, I just didn’t want to damage the car, just wanted to bring it home.” She laughs, “well, you more than brought it home.”

Lopping her arms around his neck, she kisses him. “I’m so happy for you.” “I’m really happy too. And I’m happy you could be here, I know that you would have missed it due to training.” She shakes her head, “even if it wasn’t for my knee, I would’ve canceled my training sessions for this, hopped on the first flight. I couldn’t miss this. I didn’t miss any of your FP1 sessions last season. I wouldn’t miss this.” He smiles at her, “I’m just happy that I already cleared it with Prema for Spa, that I can leave immediately after quali. I have to see you win your second Olympic medal.” Her smile flatters a bit at the thought of the Olympics. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I wasn’t going to tonight, but do you mind?” He shakes his head and he sits down on the bed, taking her with him. “Of course not. What’s going on?”

Her lips thin and the words that she had managed to say to Andrea feel trapped in her throat. But she forces them out. “I haven’t been okay since my knee got fucked up. And I know you noticed.” It was impossible to not notice the way he’d worriedly look at her. “Just like you noticed that none of the swelling has gone down.” “It really hasn’t.” His hand gently rests on her thigh, squeezing the muscle. “Is something wrong? I mean more wrong?” She shakes her head. “I uh, I got in my head, that I fucked it all up.” She lets out a laugh and she hates that tears are coming to her eyes. Hadn’t she cried enough yesterday about this? “I was pretty sure that I ruined my career and uh,” she struggles with the next part. “I didn’t take it easy like I was supposed to. I’ve still been doing some training and I haven’t been resting like I should. And I didn’t talk to you or Jain about it, like I should’ve. I just spiraled, really quickly.” “Darling, your career isn’t over.” “I know.” She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. Because she did know after talking with Andrea and talking to her doctors while Ollie did his debriefs and race prep.

“I know that now.” She corrects, wiping at her face. “Andrea talked to me, talked me out of my head.” “Good, because you’ve still got championships and medals to earn. You aren’t done.” “Yeah. I talked with my doctors too, I’m gonna talk to Jain tomorrow and I’m going to listen to them when they tell me what to do. Because I’m not ready for it to be over. But that does mean I’m looking at about four weeks of rest and recovery.” He lets out a whistle, thumb rubbing circles on her fabric cladded thigh. “That’s gonna drive you nuts.” She laughs, “it really will. And I was wondering if I could come with you to races.” His eyes widened, thumb stopping its motions. “What?” “Andrea told me that I should think about my five and ten year plans with this time I’ll have resting. And I already know that you're in those plans. And I know that I can’t do Judo for another ten years, not at this level at least. And if I get another knee injury to my left one, maybe I’ll get five years. And I know you want to be in F1 in ten years, still be in F1.” “I do.” The words are quiet, nearly drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding inside his chest. “I want to be part of this with you, Ollie. Every part. The bad races, the good ones, the ones that make you happy, sad, angry. I want them all and this could be the start of that.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow around, because this was like one of his dreams. Her wanting that with him, seeing that with him. Wanting F1 for him.

“I want that too.” He tells her. “I want you with me. But not at the cost of your career, never at the cost of it. I know we already talked about it when we got together about having to miss events and maybe championships because of careers, and that still stands. Even after you're done with this level of Judo. That will never change, even if you change careers.” His words are rushed as he makes sure she knows that he doesn’t expect her to completely just become a WAG when she’s finished. She stares at him, his expression earnest, and she doesn’t know what to say, how to say all of that back, so instead she says, “I love you.” His whole face brightens, “I love you too.”

—

“This fucking sucks.” She lets out a laugh, “Ollie, it’s okay.” “You are at the Olympics! The Olympics! And I can’t be there because of debriefing after quali. Fucking Ferrari.” He curses and she can just see him kicking at the ground. “There’s always the next Olympics in 2028. And you can’t miss debrief. Not for Spa.” A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of that track. “I know. It’s just I was supposed to be there, Prema approved it. Was even willing to push it completely to the next day, so I could be there for you. And now I can’t.” Her heart constricts a little, because she had been thrilled when Prema originally gave the go ahead for Ollie to potentially leave debrief early so he could see her at the Olympics. But F1 was a different beast and Ferrari was stricter. They wanted to see her win her second gold medal, wanted to support her, but they couldn’t let their surprise rookie driver miss the debrief to do it. “Fred already said that you guys would pause the debrief to watch it live. Really, you're just lucky that my group is going last, otherwise you’d be paying fines for missing press.” “Be worth it.” He mutters.

It’s silent between them, only the sound of slightly staticky breathing being heard.

“Why did Carlos have to get an infection?” She snorts, hand going up to cover her mouth, nearly dropping her phone from surprise. “What?” “Well, if Carlos had never gotten that stupid infection, he would have been back in the car by Australia or Japan and I’d be able to see you in person.” “Alternatively, you could have not performed so well and then when Canada came around they would have given him the seat, instead of keeping you in it.” He fake gasps. “Are you saying I should have performed badly?” She nods even though he can’t see it. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But, no you just had to show and prove that you were worthy of the Ferrari seat. What is it now that you have? Four podiums, one sprint win, two sprint podiums, oh and of course your 166 points.” It’s quiet for a moment. “I love you so much.” She giggles. “I keep track.” “So, do I.” he retorts. “you‘ve got,” he starts, but she cuts him off. “No. We are not doing that. We both need to sleep. I’ve got the Olympics and you have quali.” He sighs, “yeah. I’ll be watching when I can. And I’m sorry I won’t see you win.” Blood rushes to her face at his confidence in her. “It’s fine, baby. And I’ll try to watch what I can of FP3 and qualifying. You’re gonna do amazing. I’ll see you Sunday, yeah?” “Of course. I love you.” “I love you too.”

—

“Y/N Y/L/N wins her second Olympic gold medal!” She stands proudly with it around her neck, her country flag wrapped around her as she cries tears of joy, a beaming smile on her face. She can see Jain clapping their hands together so hard it must hurt, and that just makes her smile more.

Her eyes look around the whole venue filled with people, she looks at her fellow gold medalists, the silver and bronze. It was unbelievable just like the first time.

She listens closely as the ceremony comes to a close, and as soon as she can, she darts over to Jain, wrapping them in a hug as she cries in their chest. “We did it!” She cheers. “You did it, kid! Two gold medals!” Jain laughs, squeezing her tight before letting her go and spinning her around. She makes a confused noise, nearly falling over, but she’s caught. Caught by an all too familiar pair of arms.

“Ollie!” She gasps. He beams at her. “You won! I got to see you win!” “But, I mean, I thought,” He laughs, “I lied. Ferrari agreed as long as I did my debrief on the flight here, I just have to pay a fine for missing press.” “Oh my god.” She stares at him for a few more seconds before kissing him, his arms wrapping around her waist in the process and lifting her off her feet.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You were amazing, just amazing.” He whispers, when they break apart for air. She smiles at him, tracing a line down his cheek. “I’m just happy you're here.”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #weird to use the f1 tags for ollie in 2024 but i am here for it

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spamgyu · 3 months

Note

If Mingyu’s get Oc’s flu? Will she take care of him? 👀

At this point, homegirl can admit her feelings xD

admit her feelings?? this is a slow burn babes. im going to make everyone suffer /laughs in evil/

JK.... but uh............. alright here's cute oc x mingyu crumbs

COLLEGE!Mingyu drabble – flus (again) and piggies

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable

[College!Mingyu Masterlist]

It's been days since she last seen him.

Not that she missed him. Definitely not that. No.

Never.

But she did have to admit that the absence of his presence, more importantly his pestering voice... was very evident.

At first, when she had first showed up back at their dorm building after spending nearly a week recovering from the nasty flu she had gotten from her roommate, she didn't pay any mind that Mingyu didn't seem to be lingering by her room.

He usually came by when she went away for a few days, ready to yap her ear off about all the things he had managed to get into whilst she was gone.

Maybe he was busy at the time.

But one day turned into three and there was still no sight of him. Not in the hallways, not in the library – hell, not even on campus.

And it wasn't like he was easy to miss – he towered over all his friends... and almost anyone around him. She can pick him out from a crowd within milliseconds.

Because he's tall.

Not because her eyes are searching for him. Definitely not that either.

Walking down to the end of the hall, Y/n lightly knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in."

Popping her head in, Y/n was ready to crack a joke about her life being much quieter since he hasn't been around; but instead the smile on her face fell.

He wasn't his typical chirpy self.

She was fully expecting him to greet her loudly the second he caught sight of her. Instead, he was under his covers – eyes sunken in, nose red from all the tissues he had use to get rid of his congestion.

"Oh my god, did I get you sick?" She gasped, walking over to his bedside – placing her hand on his forehead. Y/n instantly frowned, feeling the contrast of his body temperature to hers.

Mingyu slowly nodded, reaching into the half empty tissue box on his nightstand to blow his nose.

"I'm so sorry, dude."

"S'all good." He coughed into his elbow.

"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

Mingyu cracked a smile. "You missed me, huh?"

"Eh, a little." She shrugged.

The smile on his lips grew larger. "You missed me!?"

"Let's not get too crazy now." Y/n laughed softly, motioning for him to move his legs – taking a seat in the now available space at the foot of his bed. "Didn't realize how quiet my life was when you're not around. The silence was almost deafening."

"Aw."

"That wasn't supposed to be cute."

"I'll take it.'' He smiled.

"You craving anything?" She asked, scrolling through her phone.

"Health."

"I meant food," Y/n flashed him her screen that was opened up to the food delivery app. "Least I could do is get you dinner."

"Are you trying to woo me, Y/n?" He teased.

Typically, she would be rolling her eyes at him. But somehow, the action never came – simply letting out another laugh instead.

He was definitely growing on her.

"I'm trying to make up for getting you sick."

"Make it up by hanging out with me this weekend."

The two had yet to actually do anything outside of their school campuses – mostly because they were far too busy with their own friend groups, studies, and lives. Mingyu had made a handful of attempts to make plans with her, but all were sadly declined due to prior commitments and plans.

He found the perfect opportunity.

"You're literally a walking virus right now."

"Okay, next weekend."

"Maybe."

"I'll pay." He added.

"Are you trying to woo me, Mingyu?" Y/n narrowed her eyes, asking playfully.

"Are you being woo'd?" Mingyu matched her tone.

"Maybe."

Maybe?

Maybe?!?!

Mingyu had gotten accustomed to her no's and waving off all and any attempts of flirting, he couldn't help but be taken back by the sudden change of answer – blinking quickly as he tried to process the word that had left her lips.

"Maybe?"

"Do you not want me to be?" She asked slowly.

"No I do, just– you never played along before."

Y/n shrugged. "You're sick, I'll give in this one time."

"Will you also give in to possibly spending the rest of your day keeping me company?"

He was pushing his luck, but considering she was being far more pleasant than her usual playful catty attitude – he was going to push all the luck he could find.

"Only if you let me order you food."

Mingyu handed her one of the pillows next to him. "Make yourself comfortable."

Kicking off her Uggs, Y/n happily extended her leg out in front of her as she went back to ordering the promised meal – not bothering to scold Mingyu as he began playing with the loose threads at the hem of her sweatpants.

"I got you Pho."

"Sounds good." He hummed, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Y/n took this as a sign to settle in as well, taking the pillow he had given her and placing it behind her back. "Did you miss all your classes this week?"

"Yeah. I did some wor– Your toes are cold!" He cried once her feet made contact with his upper arm, moving away from her.

Wiggling her toes, Y/n let out a loud laugh. "These piggies?"

"Gross!" Mingyu laughed, pushing them away.

"Gross? I thought you liked me!"

She was joking. She didn't know if he actually did have feelings for her – it had been such a long running joke, what was the harm of playing along?

"I thought so too!"

He was joking as well. He found it cute.

He found every part of her cute.

From the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the way she always painted her toes orange because she claimed it looked like little Cheetos. Mingyu was completely and utterly in love with the girl.

He watched as she settled down from the laughter, humming as she scrolled through her phone – completely unfazed by his gaze.

Oh he was down so bad.

"Hey," He tapped her leg, catching her attention. "I do– I– hm... I was joking."

"About?"

"I do."

"What?" Tilting her head to the side.

God, she was adorable.

"Never mind." He shook his head. He'll have to try another time – when he wasn't sick and able put together an actual, coherent sentence. "Wake me up when the food gets here, yeah?"

"Sleep tight, piggy."

"Are you calling me a toe?"

"A cute toe."

"A toe." He deadpanned.

"A cute toe!" She pushed.

Mingyu chuckled, knowing that there was no winning.

It wasn't like he cared anyways.

She could tell him that he looked like a chewed gum stuck on the bottom of her shoe, and he would take it.

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#is this still even considered a drabble lmfao #fine i'll be nice and maybe give in to oc confessing her feelings in the next installment.... maybe #hehehehehe #anyways i hate that i love college!mingyu sm #college!mingyu au #spamquest #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios

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spirit-jello · 2 months

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Im gonna fill ur page with requests BUTTTT

Imagine cockwarming gamer bf! while he's on a stream and ur trying ur best not to move

(and failing miserably bcuz everytime you move he pushes deeper inside u just so that u moan and he can humiliate the fuck out of u with millions of ppl watching)

Soooo I didn’t know who you were talking about so I just assumed I could choose my baby~ I hope you enjoy!

You were currently reading something online while your boyfriend was streaming. You were a bit needy, but since he was busy with his game, you decided to help yourself with some spicy stories.

“Babe, can you come in here for a second?” You heard Gyuvin call out, so you quickly composed yourself and walked into his office. “Hm? Are you done streaming already?” you asked, and froze when you saw his camera was still on.

“No~ but I wanted to show you off! The viewers kept asking about you.” He smiled cheekily, pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled, before letting out a squeak as he started to pull you on his lap. “W-wait baby I can stand” You laughed nervously, not wanting Gyuvin to feel your wetness through the dress because you stupidly decided not to wear panties. You remembered your thought process, ‘easier access for when he’s finished.’ God you hate yourself right now.

“But how are they going to see your cute face?” He pouted, finally getting you to sit down and wrapping his arms around your waist. Luckily(for him not you) he could still easily play his game, so you stayed silent, trying not to squirm too much.

As for him, he didn’t notice at first until he started bouncing his leg in excitement, it going in between your thighs. Now he feels your slick on his pants. At first he started getting flustered, faltering his quick skills for a moment, before smirking at an idea that popped into his head.

Oh dear. You saw his dark eyes through the webcam, and knew you were fucked. Funnily enough, you didn’t think literally.

“Give us one second viewers~ I have to fix something really quick” Gyuvin grinned, seeming innocent but you knew otherwise.

As soon as he muted and turned off his webcam, he lifted you up slightly and unbuttoned his jeans. “What are you doing??” you squeaked out, feeling his bulge through his boxers.

“More like what were you doing? Were you touching yourself without my permission?” He tsked teasingly, before pulling out his dick. “Baby, we can’t do this! Your viewers would start to worry if you’re gone this long-”

“Who said I was gonna be gone?” He gave a quick peck on your cheek before lining up to your folds, slowly pushing inside causing you to moan softly.

“Your punishment, cutie, is that you’re going to stay still on my cock, and if you even slightly move, I’ll bounce you once or twice. You wouldn’t want the viewers to hear your slutty moans would you?” You looked at him in shock, and a little bit of lust.

“I’m back, viewers! Just had to troubleshoot some things.” Gyuvin smiled at the camera after turning everything back on, returning to his game.

For the first half, you were pretty obedient. But then you slowly got more flustered as time went on. You’d let out whimpers from time to time, as your pussy would pulse in need without warning.

Without thinking, you squirmed trying to calm yourself down. By the time you realized what you’ve done, it was too late; He acted as if he was just readjusting, when really he gently thrusted up into your special spot. You let out a little ‘eep!’ but luckily you were able to bite back anything more. Meanwhile, the chat has been overflowing with thirsty comments about you, causing Gyuvin to chuckle.

“Guys, sorry to inform you but y/n is mine. Isn’t that right babe?” Gyuvin looked at you but instead of waiting for an answer, he decided to be an asshat and thrust up a bit rougher causing you to let out a soft moan.

_craddymommy_: Is she ok? >_>

Your_mom_69: Dayum she made that sound?

BigDEnergy_420: hot ;)

God this was humiliating. Also the last two are such lazy ass names? “She’s fine, just feeling a little flustered, she is camera shy right hun?” He pulled you closer as if that was possible, you staying silent.

As a warning, he pinched the inside of your thigh as you bit back a whine; “It’s rude to ignore the chat you know.” He whispered in your ear, before pulling back and continuing the game.

As he went on, every once in a while you’d move and he’d move his hips to hit your g-spot.

After an hour more of ‘torture’ and many moans and concerned chatters, he finally leaned back and stretched, ending the live with “Sorry guys, I need to fuck my girlfriend.”

Right after the end button was hit, Gyuvin wrapped his arms around your waist, one hand going down to your clit as he fucks into you roughly. “You know how- haah- how difficult it was to not fuck you into oblivion with millions of people watching you cum from my cock?” He moaned in your ear, before getting bored of the position and turned you around, picking you up easily with his dick in you at the same time, before going to your bedroom while occasionally slapping your ass. Barely making it into the room, he threw you down on the bed on your stomach. He pulls your ass up and goes back into your tight pussy, pounding hard causing your moans to turn into screams of pleasure.

“F-fuck~ Slow down- ah~!” You whined, with him just ignoring you. As you babbled almost incoherently, him letting out a raspy laugh as if he wasn’t just as needy. “Fuck baby, you drunk off my dick already?” He slammed into you, his balls slapping against your thighs.

As if you weren’t already fucked dumb, he started spanking you leaving handprints.

“Mm~ such a fucking good girl. Mine. Say it. Say you’re mine.” He growled, suddenly getting possessive thinking of the viewers who might be jacking off over your moans. Sadly you were too dumb to respond, causing him to flip you around and pulling you into a deep kiss.

“Mine~ don’t you fucking forget that” He muttered against your lips.

It didn’t take much longer before you were close, and right when you came, he followed shortly after.

A few moments of being out of breath, and him laying down next to you, Gyuvin looked to his side to see you passed out. Letting out a weak chuckle, he got up with a groan and picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bath. <3

A/N→Hope you enjoyed ya nasty(Kidding ILY POOKIE) This was way longer than I thought it’d be 💀

#zb1 #zerobaseone #gyuvin smut #zb1 smut #kim gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin #lord have mercy #holy fucking shit #gyuvin x reader

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glorified-red · 1 year

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Auburn Traditions (Damian Wayne x Reader)

summary: After your wedding, Damian spends the night finding his name in your bridal henna. In the safety of your presence, he can share his true feelings to you. word count: 1,550~ warnings: none Special thanks to @quillsareswords for bouncing ideas around until this fic was born. I am soft for this man. This is the mushiest thing I've written in so long. Literally kicking my feet writing this.

It came as no surprise when Damian popped the question.

You two flourished beside each other, growing individually in the comfort of each other’s embrace. For years you stood beside Damian. Through high school you helped him study every exam season, said quick greetings in the halls, and even helped him find all his classes his first year. In college you motivated him through finals, went to every pesky orientation, and cheered the loudest when he walked across the stage one final time.

Almost in tandem, Damian returned the favor. He asked you to Prom your senior year, holding up a shy bouquet of flowers and a corsage. He attended every performance of yours, big or small, because the mere presence of him was more support than you could ever wish for. Damian dragged you to bed on long nights and held you through so many tough ones, never letting go through it all.

You moved out together years later after you found the perfect forever home and finally made it yours. The walls were painted deep into the night, muted tones swiped onto his nose only for him to fling it back at you. Together, Christmas lights were hung across the house year after year as you danced to the upbeat tunes in your own living room while the fireplace warms you up after a long day in the snow.

So when Damian kneeled before you, his heart pouring out of his chest as he spoke words of reflection and his own green eyes shining with affection, you had to say yes. A year of bliss with Damian Wayne, your fiancé, soon to be husband. You carved out a section of this chaotic world and made it your own, a section full of adoration and unwavering love.

The wedding night was one to remember. It was an extravagant night filled with family, music, and laughter. Damian couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride for very long, far too many of the wedding photos showed Damian’s soft gaze towards you.

Your vows were heartfelt and private, opting to say your true feelings in the comfort of each other and no one more. Damian Wayne, the man of very few words, had the most poetic words fall from his lips that day. Damian Wayne, the man with ironclad emotions, cried in front of you when the vows continued forward—not that he’d ever admit that, but you knew.

So here you were, the wedding night bliss still radiating off of you as you sat in front of Damian—your husband—on your shared bed. Your outfits were hung up ages ago, torn off the second you could and changed into something more cozy with softer fabrics and looser seams. Bobby pins were scattered across the bathroom sink as you let your hair rest. Damian’s own hair was ruffled, the gel long since worn off.

Neither of you minded, no amount of makeup or luxurious outfits could make Damian fall for you any harder than he already has.

“You’re really intent on finding it,” you commented playfully, your voice dipped into softer volume. Your hands rested in his, decorated in vibrant amber. Delicate florals weaved their way across your fingertips and palms, vines twirled across the negative space until their leaves grew on your hands. Mother Earth herself had kissed your hands and let her beauty flow across your skin—her own blessing to the marriage.

Henna: a tradition that was nothing short of mesmerizing. You remembered the day Damian asked for this, a small portion of his heritage incorporated into the best night of his life. And of course, you said yes, accepting every part of him happily.

His hands traced along the arabic style that seeped into your skin, spaced out leaves and florals that left a gorgeous amount of free space to show off your own beautiful skin. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as Mehndi, for this style of henna focused on the palms to bring in love and cherish memories. But every dot on your skin was as fascinating as the one before it, carefully placed into a beautiful design.

“Of course,” Damian responded, his gaze incredibly focused on the detailed pattern on your hands. He flipped over your hands to look at the top. “The fate of the marriage rests on this moment.”

You snorted, “You just don’t want to admit that I’m the dominant one in the relationship.”

Damian tsked, “You wish.”

“Well,” you looked over at the clock, “you have five minutes before that superstition comes true. Better hurry up, bird boy.”

“There’s no need to rush me, I will find it before the night is over.”

You hummed in disbelief, a playful tone falling from your lips. The room fell to comfortable silence once more, the only sound was the soft breathing that landed onto the tips of your fingers.

His hands were so gentle as they touched yours, a faint warmth emitting from his own hands and transferring to yours. Even as he turned your hands this way and that, his fingertips traced along the design. The touch was feather-light, almost tickling the surface of your hand.

He never touched with much pressure. Even though the dye was a deep rich color, beautifully stained on your hands and wrists, he didn’t dare to wear it thin. Talia herself told you every tradition as she crafted the henna on your hand, happy to play such a significant role in her son's marriage—and welcoming you to the family? She was overjoyed to receive that call.

So when your henna turned into a darker tone overnight, you immediately knew the deep connection between you and Damian was gorgeously on display. The color signified more than just love and an unwavering bond, but it also represented your place beside your new family, and the love you will surely receive from them.

“You look beautiful with this on, Zawjati,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, as if the amber design had Damian mesmerized. The words fell from his lips absent-mindedly, a new term of endearment taking flight in an instant. The gesture meant more to him than he could ever explain, from the reconnection to understanding, all the way to acceptance, his heart was unbelievably full.

You glanced up at him, your eyes met the softened gaze of a man so deeply in love, the rest of the word slipped away. That gaze conveyed more to you than any poetic vow.

Your heart was equally as full. His simple wedding band was smooth against your fingers, the new shimmer of metal was vibrant against the tan of his skin. Your own traditions having melted into the wedding with the rings, a permanent symbol of the promise Damian made to you each and every day: to love and cherish you.

“That’s a new one,” you said, pushing past the breathless feeling in your lungs.

He rolled your fingers in his and sparks flew up your chest just like the first day you met him, even after all these years. He hummed in question, his eyes scanning the patterns with deep concentration.

“Zawjati,” you continued. “What does that one mean?”

Damian shifted slightly, not uncomfortably so, but as if his brain was mulling words around behind his eyes so his body swayed on instinct. “My wife.”

The smile that broke across your face happened in an instant, a full gleam of happiness filled your body that you couldn’t possibly contain. “Oh?” you teased, as if the words didn’t burrow themselves in your chest to create blossoming trees, “I’ve upgraded now.”

The corner of his lip ticked upwards so slightly you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t staring. There was a tint of your lipstick stained on his lips that you didn’t notice before. His fingers toyed with yours, they slipped in between yours with a ticklish touch.

“I’ve been wanting to call you that for years,” he said it so simply, like that profession didn’t take the air out of your lungs and make your heart flutter alongside it.

“Years?” you breathed out, stunned by his words. You knew his love for you was profound, but to be looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you for years? Your head whirled from the whiplash.

“Yes.” Just as simply as the words that came before. “My heart knew who it belonged to the second you entered my life. You were the only one who ever saw me for who I really was, not who I could become. You were the only one who made me look forward to living, not for the sake of saving lives to simply do it again the next day, but to keep coming home to you.”

“You make the future seem possible. You,” he breathed, “you make me want to be better, not because I have to, but because I truly want to. That is why I’ve always been more partial to the other translation of Zawjati.”

The word rolled off his tongue and your heart danced. “And what’s that?”

His thumb swiped across your pulse point where his name was imprinted on your skin in subtle cursive, easily blending into a vine. He gently brought the point to his lips.

“My better half.”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

#Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne x you #Damian Wayne x y/n #robin #Damian wayne #robin x reader #robin x you #robin x y/n #Arab Damian wayne #bridal henna #fluff #batfam #batfamily #batboys #dc #dc comics #batman

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