#But hey the tests got the all clear so maybe it is all in my head 🫠

[faithshouseofchaos]

Daniel’s first thanksgiving— Daniel Ricciardo x fem!Reader

Word count 631

Fluff

Daniel Ricciardo stood on the wraparound porch of his girlfriend Y/N’s family home, taking in the crisp southern air. The house was alive with the sounds of laughter, a country playlist humming from a Bluetooth speaker, and the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Thanksgiving in the South was something he’d only ever seen in movies, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole other beast. He tugged at the collar of his button-down shirt, already feeling like the center of attention before he even stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the teasing began.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the Aussie we’ve been hearing about,” Y/N’s cousin Billy drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “What’d you do to trick our girl into bringin’ you down here?”

Daniel grinned, running a hand through his messy curls. “Must be my accent, mate. Works like a charm.”

“Oh, honey,” Y/N’s mom chimed in from the kitchen, peering at Daniel over her glasses. “That accent’ll only get you so far. We’ve got high standards in this family.”

“Ma,” Y/N groaned, shooting her mom a look as she grabbed Daniel’s hand to lead him further in.

“I’m just sayin’!” her mom called after them. “Don’t want him thinkin’ he’s got it too easy!”

At the table, her dad sized Daniel up like he was studying the competition in a poker game. “So, son,” he began, “what exactly do you do? I heard somethin’ about you drivin’ cars real fast.”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m a Formula One driver.”

Her uncle snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Ain’t that just goin’ in circles all day? NASCAR’s where the real talent is.”

“Uncle Joe,” Y/N groaned, but Daniel chuckled, rolling with the punches.

“Close enough,” he said with a wink. “But I’ll give NASCAR a go if you think you can teach me a thing or two.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Uncle Joe slapped the table. “This one’s quick, I’ll give him that!”

But the teasing didn’t stop there.

“Y/N said you can cook,” her little sister, Maddie, piped up, leaning her elbows on the table. “That true, or are you just pretty to look at?”

Daniel raised his brows, looking to Y/N for help. She only grinned, enjoying every second of it.

“I can cook,” Daniel said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But I wouldn’t put me in charge of the turkey. Maybe the mashed potatoes?”

“Oh, we’ll put you to the test next time,” Y/N’s grandma said with a sly smile, her Southern drawl thick. “But don’t you worry, sugar, you can just sit there and look pretty today.”

By dessert, Daniel was laughing as hard as everyone else, fully embracing the playful chaos. He didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes—especially when he caught Y/N’s dad giving him an approving nod across the table.

As the family filed into the living room for football and post-dinner naps, Y/N pulled Daniel aside onto the porch, the soft glow of string lights above them.

“They really like you,” she said, leaning into him.

Daniel smirked, his arm sliding around her waist. “Oh, I got that loud and clear when your grandma called me ‘sugar.’”

“Yeah,” she laughed, resting her head against his chest. “They only tease the people they like.”

“Well,” he said, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze, his smile warm, “good thing I like them, too.”

From inside, her uncle’s voice rang out. “Hey, Aussie! We’re throwin’ the football—don’t wimp out on us!”

Daniel laughed, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “Guess I’ve got another round of initiation to pass.”

She grinned. “Welcome to the family, Ricciardo.”

[rosetinted--clouds]

"it's all in your head" lies it's in my chest too

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68

[starkwlkr]

hi loved your Rubi and Charles oneshotes 🥹🥹🥹 it’s the cutest thing ever ,I was wondering if u can make the same with max and Noah or maybe a daughter 😭😭 please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

little boss | max verstappen

I’ve been wanting to write more for max lately, especially dad fics 😭 so thank you for this request!!

Whenever Noah was in the paddock, Max always made sure he was close by. It didn’t matter if he was doing interviews or in a meeting, he had to be close and the team didn’t mind. Everyone loved Noah, including the fans. During interviews, the little boy would be in his father’s arms playing with the cap on Max’s head or giving him kisses on the cheek resulting in many YouTube compilations of dad Max.

“Did you like the race, Noah?” An interviewer asked the boy, holding a microphone towards him.

Noah looked at his dad as if asking if it was okay to talk. Max gave him a nod. “I liked how the car sounds. It’s loud but I’m not scared.”

“Tell them how the car sounds.” Max said as Noah mimicked the sound of his dad’s car which resulted in various laughs.

“He’s actually my boss. He’s the one that tells me when I’m not going fast enough, when to pit, right?” Max looked at his son.

“You were slow this time . . Like when the race almost ended and you came in and I counted the seconds and it was . . “ he counted on his fingers. “It was five seconds!”

“I took five seconds? I’ll try to be faster next time, okay?” Max played along. “See? He’s my boss.”

“Do I sense a team principal in the making?”

“Watch out, Christian.” Max teased.

Other times when Max had to attend press conferences, drivers noticed how much of a dad max acted. He would often mumble throngs to Noah, who stayed with someone from the Red Bull team.

“You’re such a dad, mate.” Charles chuckled as Max got up from his seat and walked to his son to make sure he was drinking enough water.

“It’s adorable.” Lewis commented.

“I don’t want water, papa.” Noah gave Max the water bottle with a frown.

“Okay, I’ll be over here. Let me know when you want water, okay? Be good.” Max placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s head then walked back to his seat. “What was the question?”

Eventually, Noah did want water so he whispered his dad’s name until Max heard. “Water!” Noah whisper yelled.

“I can get it for you.” Max’s manager told him, but Max had gestured for Noah to come get it so the boy did so. Immediately Noah was greeted by the drivers.

“Hey, little boss man.” Lewis fist bumped the boy. “How’s school? You doing your homework?”

Noah nodded. “I got all the answers right on my test and then papa took me to see a movie and it was so funny.”

“That’s awesome!”

After having a drink of water, Max let Noah sit on his lap as the press conference continued. Towards the end, the boy was half asleep. Max kepts his arms around his little boy as he finally went to sleep. Thankfully the press conference had ended so he walked back to his driver’s room so he and Noah could have a nap together.

The next morning, the hashtag daddy max was trending. The hashtag was filled with screenshots and videos of the press conference. Some people even made memes out of the interaction between Noah and Lewis. It was clear that Max enjoyed being a dad and the whole world loved to see it.

[pshcomforts]

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ | psh.

: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you test sunghoon on his reaction to a girl hitting on him after finding one of those videos on tiktok.

: ̗̀➛ warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! suggestive jokes (help y/n). hoon’s a little clueless, and gets hit a lot (help sunghoon). lots of teasing. not proofread.

: ̗̀➛ word count: 1.7k

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

: ̗̀➛ a/n: new formatting for my imagines without song inspirations! let me know if you like it <3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

y/n and sunghoon were sprawled out on the couch, laying side by side while on separate devices.

the girl scrolled through social media, passing each video until a particular one caught her eye. she let it play, a curl coming onto her lips as mischief formed in her head.

“hey hoon?” she chirped to her boyfriend.

sunghoon nodded his head in response, attention remaining on his phone.

“can i see your reaction to if somebody hit on you at the store?”

he quickly shifted his gaze to his girlfriend with furrowed brows. “what??” he chuckled, slowly processing her idea.

“come on, just like this video.” she shoved her phone into his face, displaying the video of the couple giggling in the store.

a look of disbelief morphed on his face as he turned back to y/n. “am i gonna get into trouble from this?” he asked, raising one of his thick brows.

the girl giggled, softly shrugging her shoulders while replying, “depends on how you react.”

sunghoon sighed, small grin taking over his face. he wasn’t opposed to the idea after all.

“fine, but if you yell at me, just know that this was your fault to begin with.” he teased, quickly leaning in for a peck on the cheek to distract his girlfriend.

“wh— hey!” she wiped off the kiss. “you can’t just say that and kiss me!”

“too late.” he flashed a toothy grin, plastering on his charming fangs as she sent a smack.

“ow, okay!” he draped a hand over the ‘bruised’ hit and murmured, “you can stop hitting me, i’ll do the video!”

y/n huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “my hits weren’t even that harsh…,” she mumbled, allowing a small smile to be seen on him.

“i know, i just wanted to annoy you.”

she reflected his adorable grin, nudging him away as she began propping the phone up.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

sunghoon took up half of the screen, looking busy with his eyes focused on a product that was definitely not his already when y/n walked in.

“oh excuse me…,” she prettily blinked, making him glance up with a little snicker. “can you help me? do you know where i can find this specific soap here?”

the girl let her hands lay on his muscled arms, softly squeezing it, making hoon raise his brows and smirk.

“so.. do you think you can help me?”

he gave a quiet scoff. “yeah, and then maybe you can help me.”

she quickly hung her mouth open in shock. “sunghoon!!” her hand that rubbed his arms smacked him multiple times. “you’re gonna say that when a girl comes up to you??”

hoon giggled, nose scrunched and eyes shut from the joy he got in teasing her. “you rubbed my arms, how else should i have reacted!” he yelled, attempting to shield himself from the continuous hits when the recording paused. “that hurts, gorgeous!!”

“that’s what you get!” she laughed back.

“okay, okay! i got it this time!”

his girl huffed before letting the video start again.

“hey..,” y/n approached him. “i just saw you from far away and you’re just so handsome…, can i get your number?”

sunghoon bit back another smile, trying to stay in character as he cleared his throat, “i know i’m handsome, you didn’t have to come up to me to say that.”

her brows quickly scrunched together in disbelief at his words, though still attempting to be the stranger. “so is that a no, pretty boy?” she blinked her eyes, waiting for an answer from the male who was suddenly blushing.

his cheeks grew red and a smile began to show on his lips. hearing that nickname was definitely not what he was expecting.

y/n lingered her stare into his, enjoying his flustered state when she was usually the shocked one.

he quietly hummed, blood still rushing to his cheeks as he uttered, “… y..yes.”

she quickly tilted her head with scrunched brows. “yes??” another smack to the shoulder. “you cheater!”

sunghoon threw his hands up in defense, smiling at her reaction. “what was i supposed to do?? you never call me pretty boy!” he shouted back, trying to get his girlfriend back into his arms.

she clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, softly letting out laughs since she knew it’d be his weakness. “so if some girl calls you pretty boy, you’re gonna cave in and say yes??” she tested, crossing her arms.

he huffed out a chuckle, stroking her locked hands with his thumbs. “only if that girl is you.” he leaned in for a kiss, expecting a forgiving and sweet pucker up when she turned away.

hoon plastered on a pout, bottom lip pushing out as his eyes glistened. “baby…,” he tried to sooth, but she only shook head in a teasing way.

“again, hoonie.”

he sighed before letting the video start again.

“excuse me?” y/n tapped his shoulder. “i just saw you from over there, and i really wanted to ask for your number. i think you’re definitely my type.”

the male let out a soft exhale, finding his girlfriend unbelievably pretty. his eyes glimmered with love as he shook his head.

“i’m sorry, i have a girlfriend. she’s all i need.” his head held up high, proud of his answer when he felt a soft hit land on his arm.

sunghoon whipped his head in confusion, making y/n playfully click her tongue. “why are you apologizing for having a girlfriend?” she teased, replaying his words in her head. “and you’re supposed to say ‘leave me alone.’”

he scoffed out a laugh, lips coiling into a grin when letting out a quiet scream. “okay, i got it this time, trust me!”

her eyes squinted in disbelief before complying, clicking record once again.

“sorry..,” she walked close to her man. “but do you know where i can find the—“

before she could even finish her sentence, sunghoon was swiftly moving pass her, not uttering a single word.

“hey! excuse me!” y/n tried to stay in character, stifling back laughs from the cold shoulder she was receiving. “i’m talking to you!”

she reached out for one of his arms but he harshly retracted it back and shook his head.

“sir!” she yelled, unable to hide her wide grins. “sir!! i just wanted to know where—“

“go away!!”

“sunghoon!” y/n laughed, huge amount of giggles escaping her as he turned back with a mirrored smile.

he had a cheesy look on his face, brows raising for her approval while she remained to burst in laughter.

the boy approached her, arms wrapping around his favorite girl as they giggled together, adoring how much y/n found his reaction funny.

“that was good, wasn’t it?” he chuckled, pulling her closer to his chest.

she let out muffled laughs, nodding her head while nudging his arm. “i was definitely not expecting that.”

“so should i always do that?”

“maybe another try.”

he scrunched his nose before sighing and agreeing, pressing the record button.

“hey, you’re a really handsome guy, do you have a girlfriend?” y/n asked, hands playing around with her hair strands.

hoon hid another smile, frowning to stop the corner of his lips from curling as he furiously nodded. “yes i do, her name’s y/n and she wouldn’t like you so please go away. i love her, and i’m all hers.”

the girl softly grinned, almost satisfied with his answer. “she doesn’t have to know about us, you know? i can always come back another time.” her hands reached up to his arms like earlier and squeezed them. “you have nice arms, by the way.”

it took his all to not fold right there, but he stayed composed. “yeah, they’re for my girlfriend, not you, so get out of my sight.” he instantly pushed the hands away, almost shoving his girl a little too harsh.

“ah! hoon!” y/n yelled.

“who’s hoon?? how do you know my name? are you a stalker?” the boy remained in his role, eyes squinting in slight disgust. “you’re weird, leave me alone. don’t talk to me.”

he attempted to push the ‘random’ girl away, hands shoving against her.

when y/n almost took a tumble to the ground, sunghoon pulled her back into his arms as instinct; but with the sudden weight shift, the two actually fell together.

they both yelled in sync, hands gripping onto each other as his person landed on top of him.

they giggled, resting against each other as y/n let her hand lay on his chest with his arm held close by her waist.

“so how was that?” he chuckled, breathlessly staring at the ceiling with his head thrown back.

he heard a soft laugh escape from her as she played with the faint ruffles of his clothing. “you better not catch the girl if that happens,” she playfully smacked his broad chest.

sunghoon scoffed. “you think really low of me.”

“no..,” y/n grinned. “you’re just really nice… and awkward.”

he rolled his eyes at her words before pulling her closer by the waist. “then you have nothing to worry about, pretty girl, because only you know my teasing side.”

her heart fluttered at his response, feeling butterflies rupture in her stomach as she snuggled near his upper body.

“i hate you.” she teased, slapping his arm and earning a deep chuckle from him.

the girl felt his rapid heartbeats while he uttered, “no you don’t, you love me.”

he let her glance up at him, loving the way her eyes beautifully sparkled in any light. his face glowed at the mere thought of her as he leaned in, lips curling and eyes lingering.

a finger hooked under her chin to bring her closer, urging for the yearning kiss he’s been wanting ever since the start of this situation.

their lips finally touched and he automatically grinned, pushing her for a sweeter taste as he held her cheek.

when air became a critical need, they both pulled away, sunghoon smiling ear to ear especially more with his fulfillment of a kiss.

“please tell me that was the last one we’re recording, i don’t know how many more hits i can take until i get a bruise.”

y/n snorted out a laugh before nodding her head. “that was definitely the last,” she murmured, leaning in closer to her favorite person.

hoon sighed in content, loving the way him and his girl were — locked on the ground with nothing but love for each other.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: wrote and published this with little to no sleep, i couldn’t tell if it was good or not but it was very impulsive.

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him.

“I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled.

“This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized.

“I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.

“Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug.

“Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look.

“Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[metranart]

hey, I know you probably busy and I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe make some headcanons of what hawks would do if y/n got pregnant?

You don't bother me at all, cutie. :) Here you have some cute little headcanons of our favorite birdie boy.

What Hawks would do if Y/N got pregnant? <3

Takami Keigo is not complicated, he wants as many chicks as he has fingers and toes, and he wants them all with YOU. 

You hadn’t thought about the subject but every time you’ve been at it … -it WAS unprotected. There was nothing to keep you from getting, round and heavy, with his child. And it wasn’t just once. Keigo could go for hours on end- he wouldn’t stop until he fucking collapsed on top of you, completely spent. “Sheesh, that-that was something else entirely, dove.” His smile bright enough to compete with the sun in the sky and win.

“If you get pregnant… I’ll be required to take care of you for the rest of our lives.” He shared all too proud of his deed, that look of adoration in his face, way too close to possessiveness. “—But one thing I swear, (Y/N). I’ll take care of EVERYTHING, you, them, us… All, you just watch me.” 

When the pregnancy test finally confirmed that his secret efforts had been fruitful, he nearly exploded with happiness, he carried you in his arms and your feet did not touch the ground again for the next forty minutes. 

“Dear god- you got even tighter.” Keigo’s voice sounded deeper, “So WET- my love, taking my time to preparing you first was more rewarding than I expected it’d be.” The lingering taste of you on his tongue nearly enough to get him off- “I’m LOVING this pregnant stage, don’cha?” 

The more your belly grew the more he glued to your side. All of the energy that in the past went into making the baby now goes into keeping you and his child happy and healthy. 

One morning, Keigo was looking at you with that unblinking, unreadable look of his, anxious you chewed at your lower lip before voice out your deeper doubts out loud. “I'm not a fan either-” his head cocks to the side, questioningly, and you suck in a nervous giggle, “-of my mom body.”

It would have been better if you slapped him, that would have been less offensive than what you just said. "I LOVE your mommy body, dove. I dream with your plump adorable tummy and all your mommy curves, all night long!" he stressed, ignoring your embarrassed giggles, in order to give a clear and firm statement, "... I'm even thinking about keeping you with that mommy body, all round and pretty and full of my chicks... how would that sound to you?" You shake your head, and he pouts playfully, your heart impossibly warm for him and his cute efforts which always work to make you feel better.

“Stop starin’.” You grumbled, cracking one eye open and staring at him, a tired grin ghosting your lips. “I can’t sleep with you watching me, Keigo.” The Hero grins, “Just checking that you were comfortable-” you shake your head, “For more than an hour?”

Keigo glanced downward at your stomach, a fond grin twisting the corner of his lips up as he imagined a little boy or girl, who looked everything like you- just with his last name, he asked for nothing else. The little one snuggled up in his arms as he read bedtime stories. He imagined teaching the child to ride a bike, to fly-… At this point, Keigo craved just for two things, domesticity and YOU… or just you, if it came to that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He growled for the thousand time, though his hands stayed gentle on your round belly. “I love everything about you. Your imperfections are so mouthwatering, (Y/N). My favorite parts.” He managed to sound reverent, like a man speaking of his Deity. He would kiss the ground your feet touch if you let him but sometimes you are so restrictive with him.

Having you in his arms has become his favorite part of finishing his patrol, that little extra weight you've gained is mesmerizing, he could adore you for hours, that's why since he met you, he leaves some feathers hidden in your apartment when he must leave, that way he can at least be close, even when he's far away.

"Don't think I don't know what you do, birdie." You whine playfully and he laughs, "how long have you known?" you snort through your mouth, "since we've known each other." Keigo snickers widely, you are definitely his person, no one else could stand how mushy and clingy he can be, more than you, his adorable and pregnant, dove.

🔞➡️ MHA X Reader NSFW ART

[kafka-ish]

I want to be Art’s dealer when he needs an eighth after one of his games. I want him to get my number from Patrick because he’s new to this & doesn’t know anyone or anywhere else to get it. Hey, u got any weed? He texts him.

Not on me.

Shit.

I know I’ve been going crazy

Do u know anyone?

The next message is your number. No name. No address. Nothing. But Art’s desperate for a cool down that doesn’t include a tub of ice or a communal sauna. He’s going out on a limb here—hitting send as soon as Patrick relays the message. Nothing too suspicious. You’re at home when you receive a text from an unknown sender.

Maybe Art: Hey, Patrick gave me ur number. This is Art

Come by around 9

You tell him which dorm.

Maybe Art: Okay

He’s at your door at nine sharp, still in his tennis uniform. He’s sweaty from practice, nervously gripping his racket bag and wondering if he should knock or text. Obviously he’s never done this.

He knocks. Doesn’t expect to be met with a girl half his size on the other side. Maybe you’re just the dude’s girlfriend and you happen to be over and end up answering. And in that case he really shouldn’t be looking but he can’t help it. Your hair is wet like you just got done showering. Your shorts ride up, or maybe he’s just imagining things. But he’s not imagining your shirt that’s see-through and barely covers your abdomen. He introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Art.” Maybe that’ll clear up the confusion.

“Yeah you texted me earlier. Come on in.” You leave the door open. You also leave Art dumbfounded.

Art makes sure to shut the door behind him but he doesn’t sit down. Stands awkwardly by the entrance, wondering what he should do with his bag, thumbing the strap.

“So Patrick sent you, huh?” Your voice comes from the kitchen and Art nods even though you can’t see him. He realizes this and dumbly says yes. You look up from the counter, sandwich bag in hand, and you smile at Art who’s fiddling his thumbs by the doorway. “You can sit down. Make yourself at home.”

"Cool." He settles down on your couch, looking around the place, trying not to be obvious even though it is. You smile, wanting to relax him. That's what he's here for, isn't it? His tennis bag is at his feet and he rests his hands on his knees, trying to take up as little space as possible.

"I won't bite, you know," you say, sitting next to him. You place a scale on the coffee table next to a tray of weed that's already been ground. About an ounce, though Art's never seen that much weed at one time. The only time he smokes is with Patrick every once in a while.

"Yeah, I know. I just--"

"What? Is this your first time or something?"

"No! I--I mean. Buying yes." His cheeks are red.

"Okay well don't worry. It's real easy." Art nods. Believes this. "Well."

"Well what?"

"Now I know why Patrick sent you to me."

"Sometimes it's easy." You laugh. Like an inside joke you have but only with yourself. "Sorry I shouldn't have said that."

"No it's fine." And Art gives you this look. Like it is fine. Keep going. Explain everything to me. He wants to know the basics, the hard stuff and everything in between. You just shake your head. Ask how much he needs. "How much do people usually get?"

"Depends on the person." You shrug.

"How much does Patrick get?"

"Like an ounce. Half if he's short on cash." Art raises his eyebrow, shocked he didn't know that about his friend.

"So I should get an ounce," Art says. More of a question than a statement. He's testing the waters. Putting himself out there.

"How much do you smoke?" You push back. You want him to be careful. You also can't risk putting a super hot new customer in danger.

"Honestly? Only with Patrick." He's bashful when he admits this. You probably think he's lame now and totally off your radar. You're never gonna let him step foot into this apartment let alone sell to him again.

"Yeah you don't need an ounce," you say smiling, thinking of how he came in all politely with his tennis racket just like a puppy, tail tucked nervously between its legs, not knowing if he should stand or sit, silently observing your things. He has a good head on his shoulder with a future ahead of him and here you are selling him weed. Who are you to take advantage of such a thing just because Patrick sent him?

"So what do I need?"

"Probably some melatonin and a really good massage. But I'll give you an eighth and pretend like this never happened." This is the first time you've felt bad about selling. You take a jar from a drawer. There's even more weed in it than on the table, but in clumps. Green wads with streaks of purple. You set each on the scale in individuals first before packaging his pile in the bag you grabbed from earlier. "Here."

"How much?"

"On me this time. Think of it as a sample. You got a grinder or you smoking with Patrick?" Art's at a loss for words. He wants to pay you. He has cash too. He'll take you out to dinner. Instead he just says

"No, I, uh. Don't."

"Want me to roll you a joint?"

But before he can say anything you already find yourself folding a zig-zag with the filter, scooping the weed you have out with your fake nail into the paper. Art watches your hands. An expert at work. He thinks how everyone has their own niche and this is yours, just like how he has the tennis court.

When you walk him out you tell him to be safe. You're still smiling. You've never been this happy to not get money. He's about to leave but says, "I can pay, you know. I want this to be an honest transaction and everything."

"Art, I'm a drug dealer."

"Yeah, well--"

"Bye, Artie."

[tsuutarr]

I Want to Pepper You In Kisses

Pairing: Arven x GN!Reader

Word count: 10K

Genres: fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint

Summary: Somehow, Arven’s journey to find Herba Mystica ended with him falling in love with you.

Before Arven falls in love with you, he’s not entirely sure what to make of you. He honestly finds you a nuisance, along with that hyperactive student council president. Seeing the brute out and about feeds into his annoyance, too. 

“What’re you doing out here?!” he yells, pointing an accusatory finger at the Pokémon his parent loved more than they loved him.

“Hey, please don’t get too angry – this sweetheart here helped me out,” you say.

Arven scoffs. “I’m not talking to you two. You can shove off.”

He expects you to get angry then and leave, but you don’t. Instead, your gaze softens for some unknown reason and he can’t maintain eye contact, so he looks away.

Then, the stupid student council president mentions his relation to the “great professor,” making anger course through his veins.

“It doesn’t matter who my parent is!” He crosses his arms, eyes narrowed into a glare as he tries to fight the bitterness rising in his chest. “The real issue here is what in the world this Pokémon is doing out here. And what’s with this form it’s in?”

“See, we heard this strange cry, and we tried to investigate it, but…” Nemona begins.

“But I fell off a cliff.” You give a small shrug with an awkward grin. “It wasn’t intentional.”

“And as mentioned earlier, this Pokémon came to the rescue!” Nemona beams. “But it seems like it wore itself out in the process. It got kinda… slumpy afterward. But you shoulda seen it before! It looked totally different – it was unbelievably strong!”

“Well, yeah. As it should be. But it can’t fight while it’s like this. The form you saw it take in battle – that’s its true form.”

“Heh,” you pat the brute’s head lovingly and Arven briefly wonders how your fingers would feel ruffling through his hair. He quickly shoves the thought from his mind. “You’re quite strong, huh?”

“...I don’t remember ever seeing you around. But given the uniform… You go to the academy too, do you?” he asks, making you nod. “Well, that brute isn’t the sort of Pokémon any old trainer can hope to command. It’s special.”

“Well, it definitely does seem that way,” you agree amicably as if he didn’t just insult your fighting prowess. Why aren’t you mad? Why aren’t you ignoring him? Why aren’t you… Ugh. He’s really not used to it and maybe that’s why he asks his next question.

“You think you’re up to ordering it around? Then how ‘bout I test your worthiness?”

You pause, seemingly surprised at his offer. You make eye contact with the brute who blinks at you, before cuddling its head into your side lovingly. You can’t help but laugh as you agree to battle him.

“I’ve been feeling all out of sorts, so I’m gonna use this battle to blast these doldrums away!” he announces, throwing out his newly caught Skowvet. He’s not really sure what outcome he expected, but he definitely didn’t expect you to absolutely pulverize him in battle.

“Good job,” you murmur sweetly as your starter Pokémon hops over to you, nuzzling your hand as you pet it. Arven can’t help but think about how warm your eyes look then, but he quickly glances away, afraid of being caught. You glance at Arven, who’s withdrawing his Pokémon into its ball. Smiling at him, you approach him, offering your hand. “Good battle.”

He doesn’t take it, instead opting to shove his Poké Ball back into his pocket. “I guess I wasn’t ever going to stand a chance using some Pokémon I’d only just caught…” he mutters. “But if you really think you can take that brute off my hands for me… you’ll need this. It’s its Poké Ball.”

You take it with a nod and a smile. “Thank you.”

Arceus, he’s really not used to people being nice to him. Or smiling. Or anything, really, so the softness in your expression throws him off wholly, making his ears feel hot. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “that thing’s your problem now, not mine. Good luck.”

“Mhm,” you agree. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says dumbly, “Uh. See you around, I guess.”

“See you!”

Arceus, he’s really not sure what to make of you.

His stance on your existence is further complicated as rumors about you seem to float around the school. He’s positive that the Academy has new students all the time, but for some reason you seem to stand out – and what’s this about you fighting Team Star? You’re definitely having some kind of day. Falling off a cliff, getting pawned an annoying Pokémon, beating up some Team Star grunt… you just seem to attract trouble.

Trouble…

An idea pops up in his head.

The next time he sees you, it’s during lunchtime. He notices you almost immediately and he tries to ignore the implications of that. He’s surprised to not see the annoying student council president next to you, but he takes it as his opportunity and slides up next to you as you browse the food selection in the cafeteria. “Oh, hey!” he catches your attention and you turn to him with a tilt of your head. He half expects your face to morph into one of disappointment but it doesn’t and it makes him feel… soft. Weird. He shoves the feeling down. “You remember me, right?”

You raise an inquisitive eyebrow, your lips twitching upwards. “I don’t think we’ve met…”

He must’ve made an odd expression, because a laugh jumps out of your throat.

“I’m kidding. From the lighthouse?’

“Yeah, exactly!” Arven feels oddly cozy. “That’s my little know-it-all buddy. Got a mind like a steel trap, eh?”

You blink at him, before saying, “I wouldn’t say that,” with a snort. “Ah, but I don’t think I’ve introduced myself –”

“Don’t worry about it.” Arven says your name. “That’s your name, right? The whole school seems to be talking about you. The new kid who showed up as the president of the student council.”

You scrunch up your nose a little at that. “I didn’t think I’d stand out that much.”

You stand out for a lot of reasons, Arven wanted to say, but instead says, “I normally wouldn’t even bother showing up for class, but I came all the way to school today just to talk to you, actually. Our new celebrity. You’ve gotta help me out so I can finally make my dream a reality!”

“Happy to help!” you respond, making him blink.

“Uh? What kind of little maniac says yes to something without knowing what they’re agreeing to?!”

“Well, you said it’s your dream, right?” you offer him a smile. “I dunno, I guess I’ve always admired people with dreams. Don’t really have any myself, so…” you give him a shrug. “What’s this dream?”

Your kindness makes him feel a little sick. He’s using you and you’re willing to be used – but before guilt can really settle in, he nods. Arven begins his spiel about picnics and sandwiches and health foods and he knows he’s rambling but you listen patiently. “...So. That’s the gist.” He rubs the nape of his neck. “I really want to get those herbs myself, but… I’m not very good at Pokémon battles. Don’t have any friends with strong Pokémon to lend me a hand, either.” Well, he didn’t really have friends, period, but he wasn’t going to say that. “And I’d never hear the end of it if I went crawling to that student council girl.” Arven inhales. “But then you waltz up! You’ve got to help me out with this – you’d be perfect!”

“Well–”

“Nope! Wait! I don’t need an answer yet! I’ll just register the places where it seems there might be Titans in your map app for you.” 

You laugh. “Well, I’ve pretty much made my decision, but okay.”

“Just let it stew a bit,” Arven insists. “And we can get more into the details later.”

“Gotcha,” you nod. “I’ll get some food in the meantime. Wanna join?”

“I have places to be,” Arven responds. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right, fine by me. See you!”

When Arven leaves the cafeteria, he regrets not taking you up on your offer. But he pushes the thought away, fiddling with the old Poké Ball in his pocket – he has places to be.

When he sees you again, he almost groans in annoyance at seeing Nemona with you. Surely chattering on about battles. Again.

“Hey, little buddy!” he yells, running up to you both. Arven gives you a little nod of acknowledgement, before narrowing his eyes at Nemona. “Tch. How’s that for a student council president! Giving your own friends an insider advantage?”

You stand, an amused expression on your face, as Arven and Nemona argue.

“I can do both, you know.” You finally say, trying to appease them. Pulling out your Rotom Phone, you show them the places marked on your map app. “See? They’re all pretty close to each other. I’ll do them all as I tackle Paldea.”

“So you’ll challenge the gyms?” Nemona asks, a sparkle in her eyes. As you nod, she cheers. “En serio? How exciting!”

“...Tch, fine. As long as you help me tackle the Titans, I guess.” Arven relents. “Well, I’m outta here. Catch up soon, little buddy!”

You laugh. “I will!”

Arven won’t admit it, but his steps feel lighter at your agreement to help him.

---

The first time Arven falls in love with you, he doesn’t even realize he’s fallen. Instead, he recognizes the overwhelming sense of relief at seeing you run up to him.

“Hey, Arven!”

“Hey,” he says, his tense shoulders relaxing by seeing your smile.

“How’ve you been?”

“Eh, the usual,” he responds, before awkwardly tacking on, “You?”

“Heh, I’ve been good,” you respond. “You ready to look for the Stony Cliff Titan?”

Arven snorts. “You’re more excited than me.”

“What can I say?” your gaze is so kind as you look at him that it makes his cheeks warm. “I want to help you achieve your dream.”

“All right, all right,” he huffs, though he can’t help the smile that sneaks up on his face. “Let’s split up then, yeah? It should be around this area, but we can cover more ground this way.”

“Sounds good to me! Call me if you find it, okay?”

“‘Course,” Arven responds. “Same to you!”

He hadn’t expected to hear from you so fast. “Arven!” you exclaim, “I found it – whoa, dodge that!” you command as a rock hurtles towards your Pokémon. “Yeesh, this thing is huge!”

“I’m on my way!” he hurriedly says, worry lacing his voice. He couldn’t help it – you were battling a Titan by yourself. You guys were supposed to fight it together! 

“Hah, don’t hurt yourself while rushing over here,” you laugh with ease and he’s surprised at how much your voice calms him down. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Despite your words of assurance, he finds himself rushing to you. He can’t let you get hurt so early in the hunt, after all. 

When he gets to where you are, you’ve already done a lot of damage to the Titan. His mouth gapes in surprise at the huge size of the Pokémon, as well how cheery you are as you wave at him. “Hey, Arven!” you beam.

“Behind you!” he yells, and you hurriedly turn your attention back to the battle, commanding your Pokémon to counterattack. He won’t lie – you look kind of cool like this. Like a hero. His hero. Arceus, that’s embarrassing, Arven thinks, burying that thought deep into the crevices of his brain.

“Thanks!”

“No problem, but… that’s the Stony Cliff Titan? No Klawf has got any business being that big!” 

“Agreed,” you laugh, before tilting your head as you see the Klawf scrambling away. “Uh… Where’s it going?”

“It’s heading inside that cave…?” Arven’s eyes widen when the Klawf scrambles back outside with something in its hand.

“Do you think that’s–”

“A Herba Mystica!”

You and Arven watch as the Klawf gobbles the herb and it begins to glow, shaking with some immense power.

“You think it’s gonna be even stronger now, after eating all those herbs? Let’s watch ourselves!”

“You got it!” you nod. “I trust you to have my back!”

Arven can feel ears warm again as he tosses out his Shellder. You trusted him? You actually trusted him to have your back. Well, he can admit the feeling is mutual, at least. And, he won’t admit it to you, but watching you battle is riveting. The way your eyes shine, the confidence in your directions, you standing by his side – it makes his heart beat so fast he isn’t sure what to do with himself.

Adrenaline is still pumping through his veins when you’ve defeated the Titan, making his limbs feel jittery. His heart beats even faster as you turn to him, eyes crinkled at the sides as you raise your hand for a high five. Cute, he thinks as his palm makes contact with yours.

“We did it!” you cheer.

“Yeah,” he feels kind of breathless, but he can’t help the wide smile that overtakes his features. “Look at you – my little buddy; coming through like a champ!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you respond, and Arven’s heart warms because he knows you could’ve done it without him. You’re so much better than him, after all.

He shakes his head at the thought, feeling his heart jolt painfully.

“These Titan Pokémon are… yeesh. I sure don’t like having something so tough out to get me.”

“Don’t worry!” When your laugh resounds again, Arven wonders how you can be so happy. “If they come for you, I’ll get them.”

His face heats up again as he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m sure there’s more Herba Mystica somewhere back there – quick, let’s have a look before it comes back.”

You follow after Arven, asking, “Which one do you think we’ll find?”

“According to the book, it’s the Sweet Herba Mystica–”

“Whoa!” you trip, making Arven act faster than he thought possible. He grabs your arm as you stabilize yourself.

“Watch your step, it’s pretty dark,” Arven murmurs, removing his hand from your arm. He clenches his hand, still feeling your lingering warmth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say.

“Nah, don’t apologize.” Arven pauses. “Uh, and if it helps… you can, uh, grab onto my vest or something.”

“I’ll take you up on that, actually,” you huff out a laugh, fingers gently grabbing the back of his vest. Arceus why did he offer this? He feels like he’s gonna die from how fast his heart is beating. Now he has to deal with making sure you both don’t trip and the thought makes him nervous (which is definitely, definitely the only reason his heart is beating so fast).

Before Arven can dwell in his thoughts for too long, his feet stop, making you bump into his back.

“Oof!”

 Arven wants to apologize, but he can’t as his throat constricts at the sight of the pink herb glimmering in the dark. “It’s – it’s real. It’s real!” He feels like crying, but he holds it in, taking in a shaking breath. “Let’s see… The book says that the Sweet Herba Mystica is good for gut health and that it helps aid digestion. Says it’s good for stomach aches, too, or when you want to stimulate an appetite!”

“Heh, that battle stimulated my appetite enough,” you hum and Arven can’t help but agree.

“...Now, if I can just get him to eat some…”

You look at him curiously, but don’t pry, which he’s grateful for.

“All right! Now it’s my turn to show off what I can do. You’re about to get a taste of my cooking!”

“Looking forward to it!” you respond and Arven can feel a grin come on his face as he prepares to cook.

He first learned how to cook all those years ago because he was the only one who could take care of himself. His parent was always too busy to take care of him, after all, so he could only really rely on himself and Mabosstiff. Well, it worked out in the end – him cooking turned out to be a good enough bribe for you to help him, which he really didn’t expect. He was so used to expecting people to help him and no one coming through, so you being there felt odd. But it wasn’t a bad thing, really. He… just hopes you’ll be able to stick around till the end. Just until he can get all the herbs, at least.

Somehow, the thought that you won’t talk to him after you get all the herbs kind of bothers him.

“Here you go!” Arven announces, trying to rid himself of his thoughts. He hands you the plate with a sandwich on it.

“Oh, that looks delicious!” you beam, making his heart swell with pride.

“It’s an Arven-original sandwich packed full of herbs! And–” he digs through his pocket, handing you something that looks like a badge. “–I’ll even give you this. It’s called a Titan Badge. I modeled it after the gym badges.”

You let out a whistle. “This looks genuine,” you marvel. “You’re really good with your hands.”

“Nah, it’s really nothing,” he bashfully says, but the moment is interrupted as the brute springs out of its Poké Ball. “What’s up with that thing? It just comes out of its ball whenever it wants?”

“I guess?” you respond, patting your Pokémon lovingly. It purrs underneath your touch, before sniffing at your sandwich.

“Hey now,” Arven says. “That’s not for you.”

Even as Arven says that, you give the sandwich to the brute, making Arven sigh. He’s starting to think you’re a complete pushover.

“Hey! I went through all the trouble of making that for you, and you just give it away? I hope you realize that’s all there was, so now there’s none left for you.”

“Oh.” You hum in thought. “That’s fine, don’t worry. Sorry about giving your sandwich away, though.”

Your kind gaze makes Arven heave out another sigh. “Aw, come on! Now you’re making me feel bad,” he grumbles without any real bite. He cuts his own sandwich in half, offering it to you.

“Oh, you really don’t have to–”

“Just take it,” he responds. “You fought hard, y’know. You should eat.”

“...Thanks.” You take the sandwich from him. He watches you expectantly as you take a huge bite and he’d be lying if he wasn’t absolutely ecstatic when he sees your eyes light up. “This is good!”

“Heh, I’m glad you think so!” he boasts, pleased, before he looks at your Pokémon. “Hey… is it just me or has your brute–”

You clear your throat.

“–your partner gotten… stronger?”

“I think so,” you tilt your head. “You think you got stronger, ‘Don?”

“Agias!” it responds, making you laugh.

He stares at the way you two interact with each other and there’s this twinge of something that stabs at him. At one point, that was how he and his Mabosstiff interacted.

“Arven?” you ask him, cautiously. 

He swallows. “The power of these herbs is really something! If they had that big of an effect on your Pokémon, then I bet…” he trails off. “I’ll start cleaning up – don’t worry about it!” he waves you away when you approach him to help. “You’ve done more than enough by defeating that Titan Pokémon. Leave the rest to me. Just… if you can, it’d be great if you could get started on searching out the other Herba Mystica for us.”

“You got it,” you salute. “See you, Arven. Thanks again for the sandwich!”

He watches as you disappear out of the cave, whispering, “I really owe you one.” He inhales, before carefully letting his Mabosstiff out. It’s been a while since Arven’s heard Mabosstiff’s bark, but he still can’t help the disappointment that settles in his bones when he sees that all his partner can do is heave labored breaths. Gently, Arven combs his fingers through Mabosstiff’s thick fur. “Hey, buddy,” he murmurs. “You think you can eat this for me?”

Mabosstiff merely whines in response and Arven can feel his heart clench uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, bud.” Arven breaks off small chunks of the sandwich, feeding them to Mabosstiff one by one, carefully watching Mabosstiff’s reaction. 

Mabosstiff, the sweet friend that he is, slowly but surely eats what Arven offers. 

“You know,” Arven says, scratching behind Mabosstiff’s ear. “I actually made this with someone else.”

In response to Arven’s words, Mabosstiff nuzzles into Arven’s knee. It’s a soft gesture that makes tears well up in Arven's eyes.

“Yeah, I just met them recently but… they’ve agreed to help me help you,” Arven begins, still gently patting his Pokémon. Arven begins talking about how strong you are and how pretty you are when you smile. How cool you are when you fight. Recounting stories about you, little snippets about how you laugh or how you say certain words, makes Arven’s heart feel strangely warm and before he knows it, Mabosstiff has been lulled to sleep, paws warmer than before.

---

The second time Arven falls in love with you, he’s so overwhelmed by your kindness that he doesn’t realize he’s in love.

“Second Titan down!” you cheer, holding up your hand for another high five. Arven can’t help but grin back, hitting your palm with his. There’s a pleasant tingle that spreads out across his palm.

“You were amazing there, y’know?” he says, adjusting his bag, which makes you peer at him curiously.

“Isn’t that heavy?”

“Nah, I’ve been lugging this thing for a while, so…” he shakes his head, tilting his chin towards the direction of the cave. “Let’s get goin’ before the Titan comes back for seconds.”

“You got it!” you agree, following after Arven.

“If we’re lucky, there’ll be another herb here…”

“Over there!” you point, making the both of you run to it.

“It’s a Herba Mystica!” Arven grins, looking at the green herb. “Thanks, really. If I can just get him to eat this…” his voice turns quiet as he gazes at the herb in silence. It’s the second herb out of five and Arven desperately, desperately hopes this will do something to help Mabosstiff.

“Arven…”

He lightly smacks his cheeks with his hands, trying to get rid of his negative thoughts. “Okay, let me whip something up for us!” 

“...Okay,” you say softly with a smile. “Waiting for a good meal, chef.”

“You can count on it!” he responds as he gets ready to cook. It’s something he’s noticed lately, but sometimes he thinks about you while he’s cooking. It’s kinda embarrassing since you’re right there, but he can’t really help it. He didn’t think you’d pull through for a second time, which, maybe he shouldn’t have doubted you, but years of disappointment made it hard for him to expect things from anyone that isn’t him. Still, he’s so grateful because really, no matter how good his cooking is, there’s no reason to help him. After all, it wasn’t like you considered him a friend or anything yet, right…? 

It would be nice if you did, though.

“All right, all done!” Arven announces. “Here you go! My special, whimsical, herb-filled super sandwich! And it comes with a Titan Badge!”

“I’m still impressed with how good these look.”

“Heh, I’m glad you – aw, come on! You again?” Arven groans, seeing your brutish partner pop out. It nuzzles into your side again, looking at you with big doe eyes as it begs for your sandwich. The brute took his parent, and now it’s trying to take you, too? He can’t help but feel a little jealous – wait. Jealous? Why would he feel jealous…? Arven shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. Still, he can’t help but pout when the Pokémon looks at him and mewls. “...Hmph. Is it trying to say thanks or something?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “It really liked your sandwich. I’m not a bad cook or anything, but ‘Don will longingly stare in the distance sometimes when it eats my cooking – probably thinking about yours, heh.”

Arven clears his throat to tamper out the embarrassment that he’s feeling. “Well, it’s a good thing I made extra, then.”

“Oh?” there’s a teasing glint in your eyes that makes his cheeks flush.

“I just made extra ‘cause you’ve been helpin’ me a lot!” there’s a small frown on his face, though it’s not malicious, “I definitely, absolutely, did not make extra for your partner.”

You raise your hands as a testament of peace, though there’s still a teasing grin on your face because you both know he’s lying. He’s thankful when you don’t push, though, instead opting to take his sandwich from him. “This smells great, Arven!” Beside you, your partner yips happily, nudging you to hurry up and feed it. With a laugh – one that Arven absolutely does not think is cute – you give your partner its sandwich. After it gobbles down its sandwich, it glows brilliantly, making Arven’s eyebrows rise.

“Did it grow stronger again?”

“I think so!” you beam, patting your Pokémon. “Look at you go!”

“Man… these Herba Mystica really do pack a punch, huh? I mean, they ought to, or else–” Arven’s eyes widen as your Pokémon lumbers over to an extra sandwich on the table. The Pokémon’s action makes rage bolt through Arven, but even more than that, panic. “Don’t you dare touch that – it isn’t for you!” His shoulders are tense as he yells, his voice echoing throughout the cave. Both you and your Pokémon blink in surprise and Arven tries his best to control his ragged breathing, but it’s hard.

“Arven,” you murmur, placing a hand on his shoulder. He expected you to slap him for yelling at your Pokémon, so your soft touch gives him whiplash. “I’m sorry about ‘Don. Are you all right?”

“Yeah – yeah.” He’s not sure why you’re able to help calm him down so quickly, but there’s a sense of peace that thrums through his veins, allowing him to think a little clearer. “Yeah.”

“‘Don.” There’s a chastising lilt to it that makes your Pokémon bow its head apologetically. It purrs, slinking away from the table and curling up.

“...I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shouted like that…” Arven inhales, the air feeling heavy in his lungs. “I… guess I should at least tell you the full story.” Fiddling with the Poké Ball in his pocket, Arven intakes another deep breath, before letting his beloved Mabosstiff out. “This is Mabosstiff, my partner.” Arven takes the extra sandwich off of the table, breaking it into smaller chunks and feeding it to Mabosstiff. “Here you go, bud. Eat up. This sandwich should help you feel better. Slowly now. Take your time. Small bites are fine. Just chew nice and slow…”

Mabosstiff does as instructed, slowly, but surely, eating out of Arven’s hand. You watch the scene silently, but kneel down next to Arven. It’s an odd feeling, but Arven can’t help but appreciate the fact that you’re still here.

“...My buddy here was… hurt pretty bad a while ago. Real bad, in fact. He never really recovered,” Arven says, feeling tears well up in his throat.

“Oh, Arven… I’m so sorry,” you murmur, hand gently rubbing his back. Before he’s cognizant of what’s happening, you’ve drawn him to your chest, giving him a hug. You have to angle yourself a little oddly because he’s so much taller than you, but that fact just makes his heart feel even more warm. He can’t really bring himself to hug you back fully, but he grabs the back of your shirt as he tries to steady his breathing.

“Nothing seems to help,” his voice cracks, “not potions, not Pokémon Centers… Nothing.” Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes. “Mabosstiff here is the only thing in the world I care about. The only thing… So, I promised that I’d make him better – whatever it takes.”

“And that’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve done your research,” you hum. “I’m impressed you found this out.”

“I was desperate,” he murmurs, basking in your warmth for a beat longer, before pulling away and pulling out a book. “I – this book… I found it in my parent’s lab. It’s full of legends and stuff, things nobody’d usually believe…” Saying it aloud makes it dawn on him how kind you actually are – when he asked for your help, he’d asked without knowing if any of this had any substance or value yet you agreed. “...But I believe it.” His gaze meets yours. “As an example, Mabosstiff’s paws have gotten warmer when he first ate Herba Mystica – I’m sure of it!”

Arven’s gaze sweeps back to Mabosstiff who is still chewing his food.

“Oh! You done eating, bud?” Arven murmurs, threading his fingers through Mabosstiff’s thick fur. There’s a twinge of anxiety as Arven gazes at his beloved companion. Something – anything, please, Arven thinks, teeth worrying his bottom lip. 

Slowly, Mabosstiff’s eyes open, making Arven’s breath hitch in his throat.

“H–hey, Mabosstiff! Can… can you see? Are your eyes open?” Tears clog his throat again as he sniffs. “Yes! It… It’s been so long since he was able to open his eyes! I was so worried–” he sniffs “–oh man, I–! I’m so–! I’m so glad!”

You rub gentle circles on Arven’s back as you allow him to bask in his relief while crying.

“Thank you, really,” he finally says, making you laugh.

“It’s all you, Arven, promise.” Your gaze is contemplative as you tap your fingers against your knee. “Do you mind if I pet him?”

“Ah… Well, what do you say, Mabosstiff?”

Mabosstiff looks at you and you look back with a smile.

“He says yes,” Arven supplies helpfully.

“I’m glad you told me,” you laugh. “I couldn’t tell.” Still, you gently take your hands and scratch behind Mabosstiff’s ear, which he seems to like. Watching you carefully handle his buddy makes an indescribable emotion well up in Arven – he’s really not sure what to make of it, but he wants to burn the image of you and Mabosstiff into his brain.

“Aw, look at him look at you!” Arven huffs out a laugh. “Those fiery orange little eyes… Hard to tell if they’re open or not, but I know the difference!”

“Hah, I don’t doubt it,” you respond, giving Mabosstiff one last scratch before drawing your hand away.

“The power of these herbs really is amazing!” Arven beams, feeling a lot better after crying. “I’m gonna get the rest of these herbs and bring Mabosstiff to full health.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, making Arven awkwardly clear his throat. He knows that you’ve been nothing but kind to him, but he still feels a little shy around you now that things are dawning on him. He’s revealed his real reason for hunting Herba Mysticas and he’s cried in front of you, which is honestly pretty mortifying. But you take it in stride and for some reason, in his eyes, you’re glowing. Not wanting to bask in his awkwardness, he clears his throat.

“So… uh, yeah. That’s my story. Just… just three more to go.”

“Just three more to go,” you agree, before taking his hands into yours. Arven swears his heart just stopped. “Arven, I promise you that we’ll find the remaining herbs. We’re gonna bring Mabosstiff to full health, you’ll see.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, the passion in your eyes swallowing him whole.

You give his hands another squeeze before drawing away, making Arven really, really miss your warmth.

“We got this, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arven agrees, nodding. “We do.”

---

The third time Arven falls in love with you, it’s because he realizes he finds comfort in your presence. You’ve just defeated the third Titan, and Arven can’t believe how amazing it feels. You’re both over halfway done with this quest – over half. He didn’t even think he’d be able to find one Herba Mystica, but somehow, with you, he’s found three. 

“Another successful search!” he beams, looking at the glowing herb. “We’re on a roll!”

“We are!” you agree, covered in mud from head to toe. The sight makes Arven laugh. “What?”

“Ah – it’s nothin’ to worry about,” he says, but the grin on his face says otherwise. Your eyes narrow and he can’t help but think it’s so freaking cute. 

“Hmph, I help a guy out and all he does is laugh at me…”

“And make you sandwiches,” he helpfully adds, making you snort.

“That too, I guess. Hm…”  you peer at him curiously, before digging through your pockets. Arven watches you curiously as you pull out a handkerchief. You stand on your toes, trying to reach his height as you carefully wipe his face. Arven stops breathing as you focus on him. “Okay, I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” you huff with a smile. “I can’t really do anything about your clothes, though. Sorry.”

“You–” Arven lets out a sigh, before bellowing out a laugh that makes you jump. “I really don’t know what to expect with you.”

“Thanks?”

Arven shakes his head with fondness, still feeling warmth radiate through his limbs. He digs through his bag, pulling out a fluffy Maschiff themed towel and handing it to you.

You take the toweling, blinking in confusion. “Thanks…?”

“You think I’m in a state?” he huffs, watching the expression on your face. You’re cute, Arven decides, but doesn’t put more thought into it because he’s so sure everyone finds you cute. 

“Is that why you were laughing?” you ask, finally, nose scrunching up. “I’m covered in mud, aren’t I?”

“Yup,” Arven responds with a smile. “Clean yourself up and I’ll get some food going.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, backing away from the picnic table. 

Arven watches you from the corner of his eye as you wipe your face and clothes, scrunching your nose in disdain. The sight makes him smile to himself as he begins to cook. Smiling wasn’t something he did too often before meeting you, but there’s just something about you that makes his lips quirk upwards. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” he exclaims, walking to where you’re sitting and handing you a plate. “Another one of your favorite ol’ Arven sandwiches with a side of Titan Badge!”

“Thank you!” you beam, still caked in mud but somehow glowing. 

“It’s nothing–” Arven snorts as your Pokémon pops out of its Poké Ball. “Figured this might happen. Don’t worry – I made extra this time for that partner of yours.”

“Thanks, Arven,” you beam, your partner chirping beside you in agreement.

“Yeah, no problem.” Arven fiddles with his Poké Ball for a bit, before gently letting Mabosstiff out. Shallow, but heavy, heaves leave Mabosstiff’s bruised body and Arven can feel his heart break, but he pushes on. Arven carefully breaks the sandwich down into smaller chunks, feeding it to Mabosstiff. “That’s it. Small bites, small bites…”

“Ah, ‘Don, slow down!”

Your voice makes him temporarily turn his attention to you, which allows him to observe your partner swallowing the sandwich whole.

“Ah, c’mon,” Arven huffs without malice. “At least bother to taste it before you swallow it right down, would you?”

You offer him a sheepish smile. “Uhm, if it’s any solace… I’m savoring every bite. It’s very good.”

Your words make Arven’s expression ease, a sense of comfort flooding through him. “That’s good, I’m glad.” For a brief moment, he stares at you eating his sandwich with glee, a sense of calm washing over him before his gaze shifts to Mabosstiff to assess Mabosstiff’s condition. “Oh. You done with your sandwich, Mabosstiff?”

A small sound escapes Mabosstiff, making both Arven and your eyes widen.

“R–ruff?! You… you heard that too, right?!” Bright teal eyes wet with tears turn to look at you. “Mabosstiff just woofed, right? Right?!”

“Right!” you agree, a wide grin on your face. “He definitely woofed!”

“See! See that?!” A relieved chuckle leaves Arven as his hands gently thread through Mabosstiff’s fur again. “I knew I wasn’t just hearing things!” With increased vigor, Arven scratches the back of Mabosstiff’s ear, causing the Pokémon to let out another small woof. “Oh, Mabosstiff! Who’s my best bud, huh? Who’s the best of boys? You are, yes, you are!” He sniffles and before he knows it, you're at his side again, rubbing circles on his back as you scratch Mabosstiff’s other ear.

Mabosstiff lets out another small woof at the attention he’s receiving, which makes Arven laugh through his tears.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that woof!” He can’t help but turn to you with a grin, which you reflect. “Mabosstiff is definitely getting better! Ever since I teamed up with you, good things keep happening!”

You laugh. “Then I guess I’ll have to work hard to make sure good things keep happening.”

Arven can feel his heart squeeze and he’s half-convinced that you’re trying to kill him.

“Just two more, right?” you give him one last pat on his back before you pull away your hand. He kind of misses (really misses) your warmth, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he nods.

“Just two more. I hope you’ll stick it out until we’re done.”

Your eyes crinkle at the sides as you smile. “I definitely will.”

He isn’t going to admit it anytime soon, but that smile brings him more comfort than you realize.

---

The fourth time Arven falls in love with you, it’s because of how much your encouragement spurs him to continue forward. The fourth titan is down for the count, and Arven can’t believe it. 

“Yes!” Arven cheers, looking at you with a bright grin.

You smile back at him, giving him a high five, before dusting off your shoulders. “What even was that thing?” you mutter. “It looked vaguely like a donphan.”

“That was definitely not a donphan,” Arven responds, scrunching his nose at the sand in his socks. “I don’t even think it was a Pokémon.”

“But then what is it?” you murmur, humming in thought. 

Arven thinks with you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly in thought. “I kinda feel like I’ve seen it before…” 

You peer at him curiously, before motioning him to lean down. Arven blinks at you, confused, but obliges. “We’re always in such a state after these battles,” you huff, amused, as your hands go to remove the sand in his hair. Arven can only stand still, words stuck in his throat as you gently weave your fingers through his hair. He can feel heat radiate off of his cheeks as his eyes flicker around aimlessly, trying to find something to look at. He feels like an eternity has passed when you remove your hands, a proud look on your face. “There. I got most of the big chunks out.”

“I–” he clears his dry throat, “Thanks. Do you, uh, want me…?”

You blink at him curiously, before you laugh. “I think my hat thankfully protected my hair from the worst of it. I don’t always wear it, but I’m glad I wore it today.”

Oh Arceus, he was so dumb. Arven wanted to crawl into the sand and never emerge again.

“Could you make me a sandwich, though? Please?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, feeling warmed at your inquiry. You’re so sweet that he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

The cave is, like always, dark when you and Arven enter it. For some reason, Arven pays a little more attention to you, trying to make sure you don’t slip or trip over your feet.

“Oh, the herb!” you say, making Arven finally turn his head and look at the herb growing in the distance.

“It looks like it’ll taste horrible,” Arven laughs, “which means it’s gotta be good for you!”

“I don’t know about that,” you respond, smiling, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to turn this into something tasty, at least.”

“You bet.” Arven rolls up his sleeves. “No time to waste – I’ll get some food going!”

Areven’s deft hands traverse across the picnic table as he sets up the ingredients to make a sandwich. There’s a giddiness behind his movements now as he anticipates your reaction, as well as Mabosstiff's increasing health. He can feel that he’s so, so close to his goal that he can taste it – and it’s all thanks to you. His heart fills with something he can’t really seem to describe whenever he thinks of you – whenever he’s with you. Sometimes he feels like the gratitude he has towards you will overflow, making him do something terribly stupid.

“Okay, sorry for the wait! Here’s the sandwich with a nice helping of Titan Badge! Gaze upon it in awe as you eat.”

“I am in awe,” you respond, taking both things from him gratefully. As your Pokémon comes out, Arven lets Mabosstiff out of its Poké Ball too. The sight of Mabosstiff’s eyes makes Arven smile.

“Seems like someone’s got a proper appetite now!” he glances at your Pokémon, watching it gobble up its food. “And that fellow’s also slowly regaining its original strength. Still… doesn’t look like it’s anywhere close to returning to its battle form. It seems healthy enough physically… But maybe it’s got a mental block?”

You frown at him, which makes Arven’s heart drop.

“A mental block?” you murmur, gently petting your Pokémon. It nuzzles into your hand as you do so.

“I, uh, I’ve read about it before. A mental scar – like psychological trauma.” As your frown deepens, Arven wishes he could just shut up. “Maybe it had a terrifying experience in battle and, uh, doesn’t really like to now? Like it’s too scared to fight.”

Your frown remains on your face as you continue to stroke your Pokémon’s head. Arven swallows, before clearing his throat.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Arven says, quickly, noticing the worry in your tone. He really didn’t want to damper your mood – that wasn’t the intent of his words. So, seeing you crestfallen at the potential trauma your Pokémon faced makes his heart, well, drop. “I’m sure both the brute – uh, that is, your buddy – and Mabosstiff will both make a full recovery eventually!”

“Yeah,” you murmur, giving him a nod. You give him a small smile as if to appease him, but it does little to soothe the guilt in Arven’s heart.

“Well, Mabosstiff?” he says, turning his attention away from you. “How’s that Herba Mystica working?”

Mabosstiff only tiredly huffs in response, his breathing slow and steady. He lets out a little whine in apology, but it’s quiet and breathy.

“Uh, no pressure!” Arven exclaims, wanting to backtrack completely. He feels like he’s messed up twice now and he’s starting to panic a little. “It’s not like it’s fair to expect every kind of Herba Mystica to have some kind of huge effect, right? And it’s not like the result has to be immediate, either.” Arven gently ruffles Mabosstiff’s fur, holding in a sigh. “Okay, rest up now, buddy.” Ruffling Mabosstiff’s fur one last time, Arven withdraws Mabosstiff back into its Poké Ball. As soon as Mabosstiff is back in its Poké Ball, Arven heaves out a sigh.

Everything had started out so great, but now, it feels like he’s made mistake after mistake. Not to mention the fact that Mabosstiff didn’t have any huge changes this time around. And he’s made you all sad because your Pokémon might be traumatized. Arven groans, ruffling his hair in aggravation. He just keeps messing up.

What if he keeps messing up? What if Mabosstiff never recovers? What if you see that your efforts were for nothing and then leave him? What if–

“Arven, we have one more left,” your voice cuts in, making Arven turn to you slowly in confusion. You meet his gaze with a smile, your Pokémon curled up by your feet, dozing off. “We'll get the last one and Mabosstiff will be as right as rain, you’ll see. We’ve got this.”

He blinks at you. “Uh– yeah.” Arven’s eyes search your face for any signs of anger or frustration, but there are none. Just kindness and determination. “Yeah.”

Your smile is so bright that it actually melts away his worries this time. You aren’t mad at him, and you aren’t disappointed, either. He can see that now.

Arven smiles. He’s not sure why, but your words bring him a lot of comfort. Since you said it’ll work out, he really believes that it will. He believes you because you seem to believe in him.

It makes his heart feel warm.

---

The fifth time Arven falls in love, it’s because he realizes that his happiness is multiplied beyond words when you’re with him. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” you ask, eyes glimmering as you look at Casseroya Lake.

“Yeah,” he responds, looking at how your smile widens at the sight of the blue lake before you.

“So the last Titan Pokémon – the False Dragon – is here, right?” you ask, tilting your head back to look at him. “It’s kinda bizarre to think about, you know. It’s so peaceful here.”

“Yeah, and not a single person’s caught of glimpse of it,” Arven mutters, eyes drifting across the quiet lake water. “It must be some kinda truly terrifying beast… But how are we supposed to search for a thing when we don’t even know what it looks like?”

“Surely it’ll do the kind thing and yell something like, ‘Grah! I’m the Titan!’” you joke, curling your fingers to look like claws, making Arven huff out a laugh.

“If only, right?” Arven’s thoughts are momentarily shaken when you start sprinting away from him. “Wha– hey! Where’re you going?!”

“I saw it!” is the last thing he hears before you surf away on your Pokémon.

Arven can only stand there, shell-shocked, before he runs after you, sending out his Cloyster.

When he catches up to you, he sees you confronting a huge Pokémon, a Poké Ball readied in your grasp. “Did you find the Titan?!” Arven asks, looking at the Dondozo. “So that’s it?! Sure is one big… uh… dragon?” His eyebrows furrow, expressing his confusion. “Wait, is that even a dragon? Or is it a fish?!”

“Well, it’s called the False Dragon Titan for a reason, right? So…” your eyebrows also furrow in confusion. “...If we beat it, I’m sure our questions will be answered.”

“That’s true– whoa!” Arven’s eyes widen. “Th–the little sushi guy got eaten up! Yeesh! Didn’t expect to see the food chain in action today!”

“And now we gotta step it up so we don’t end up a part of the food chain!” you respond, calling out your Pokémon.

“Right!” Arven agrees, sending out his Greedent.

“W–We did it!” Arven cheers once Dondozo goes down. “We–”

“Not yet!” you respond as Tatsugiri jumps out of Dondozo’s mouth and costumes some Herba Mystica. “Let’s go, Arven!”

“Uh…! Right!” 

Somehow, he always finds himself following your pace.

“Phew… Nice job!” Arven pats you on the back once the Tatsugiri also goes down. “Maybe the Titan was both those Pokémon together? Like some kinda combo meal.”

You laugh brightly at Arven’s words, making his heart warm. “Well, we're kinda a combo meal too, then, huh? A better one, of course.”

Arven ignores how hot his face feels, chalking it up to the battle you two just finished. “Okay! I’m pretty sure that Tatsugiri came out of there. Let’s go?”

You nod, following Arven as he enters the dark cave. Instinctively, you grab onto Arven’s vest, making his heart warm.

“That must be it!” Arven exclaims once he sees the red herb. You both run up to it, happy that your search is successful. “Let’s see what the book has to say… So it seems that the Spicy Herba Mystica is supposed to boost your metabolism! It gives your circulation a boost and helps flush out all those toxins!”

“Wow, it sounds intense!” you laugh, before patting Arven’s arm. “Sounds like something that’ll definitely pep someone up.”

“Yeah,” Arven says. If he were alone, he’s sure that he’d be more fearful than hopeful, scared that all his efforts were for nothing, but you’re here and that’s enough to reassure him. Inhaling deeply, he picks the herb up, giving you the brightest grin he can muster. “Just wait right there – I’ll whip something up real quick.”

“Waiting!” you reply, brightly.

Arven begins his cooking again, eyes intensified on the task in front of him. Before he can get too much further, however, you call for him. He turns around, looking at you quizzically as you approach him.

“Your hair’s gotten longer since we’ve started collecting Herba Mystica.”

Arven pauses, contemplative. He has noticed that his hair has been getting in the way more recently, but he was too busy to really think about it.

“Can I tie your hair back?”

“Huh?” Arven swears his heart stops, his cheeks heating up. He swears you’re gonna kill him one day. 

“Since your hands are busy,” you supplement, pulling out a cute hair tie with a Skwovet on it. “...Well, actually, it’s because I saw this and thought of you.”

You thought of him? You bought something because you thought of him? Arceus – he’s not sure when someone last bought him something – or even thought to, really.

“Arven?” you call.

“Yeah,” he responds, snapping out of his thoughts. “Ah, yeah.” He blinks rapidly, feeling his eyes grow wet with tears. It’s the onions, he tries to convince himself, but he’s not really sure if he can lie about it this time. He turns his back to you, barely choking out, “Go for it.” There’s a wobble in his voice that he hopes you didn’t hear.

Gingerly, at his permission, you take his hair into your grasp, threading your fingers through it. Arven busies himself with cooking, unsure of what to do with himself. The gentle movement of your fingers makes his heart beat erratically, but it somehow soothes him, too. He’s really not sure what to do.

 “There,” you say, finally, patting his back as your hands draw away from his hair.

He kind of misses your warmth, but he’s not going to admit that outloud. Instead, he mumbles a quiet thank you that he’s not sure you heard.

“No problem,” you hum, peering over his side to watch him work.

He suddenly feels shy under your gaze, even though you’ve watched him cook so many times. It takes all of his brain power to solely focus on cooking because he doesn’t want to mess up and lose you.

“Wow, that looks delicious!”

“Then it’s good that I made enough for you,” he responds, making you laugh. Arceus, he really likes your laugh.

“Thanks, Arven,” you say, taking the two sandwiches he’s offering you.

I should be thanking you, Arven thinks, but nods and says that it’s not a problem. He watches as you give your partner its sandwich, bright grin on your face as your partner gobbles it food in a flash. Arven watches as you eat yours, delight racing across your face as you savor each bite. Just seeing your reaction makes Arven think that he wouldn’t mind cooking for you every day.

“It’s delicious!” you say, making him puff his chest out in pride.

“Of course it is!” he exclaims, feeling your words simmer in his heart and give him courage. He inhales, pulling our Mabosstiff’s Poké Ball. “I guess it’s your turn, now…” he murmurs, releasing Mabosstiff. “Come on, bud. Eat up. It’s gonna make you all better, I promise,” Arven says, breaking up the sandwich and offering it to his partner. He waits for Mabosstiff to eat patiently. “We’re gonna play with your favorite ball as much as you want, y’know? Just like we used to.”

Mabosstiff silently eats out of Arven’s hands. It makes Arven’s heart throb.

“Please… get better. That’s all I want, really…” Arven’s voice is so quiet that he’s not sure if he’s said or thought his words. Still, he waits in anticipation as Mabosstiff finishes the last bite of his sandwich.

Arven waits.

And waits.

And waits.

“...Mabosstiff,” Arven finally says, voice cracking. He gently pats Mabosstiff’s fur, feeling his eyes grow wet with tears. “You did your best, bud…” With a sharp inhale, Arven stands, turning his back to you. He’s not sure what to do. You worked so hard for him. Mabosstiff worked so hard for him. And yet… it didn’t work. It didn’t work, of course it didn’t. But what else can he do now? Arven’s not sure. There’s a myriad of thoughts bustling in his head, becoming a murky black as he contemplates what to do next. He knows he has to keep trying, but–

Bark!

Arven’s eyes widen as he quickly whips around, teal eyes landing on Mabosstiff struggling to its feet. Though a little slow, Mabosstiff limps to the Poké Ball that rolled off the table, picking it up in its mouth and walking to Arven. The relief, the gratitude, the hope – all of it makes Arven fall to his knees as he clambers towards Mabosstiff to meet halfway. Mabosstiff lets out another energetic bark that makes Arven want to cry. “Bud, I know! Me, too!” he exclaims, hugging Mabosstiff close. He feels the soft warmth of Mabosstiff’s fur, the gentle beat of Mabosstiff’s heart, and Arven, for the first time in forever, knows that Mabosstiff will be just fine.

And Arven can’t be more grateful to you – you, who decided to help him, a stranger. You, who decided to help him despite there being no evidence of these Herba Mysticas existing. You, who has supported him through this entire journey–

“Thank you,” he finally says, looking at you. He knows his eyes are red, he knows he probably looks like a mess, but he really can’t bring himself to care – not when Mabosstiff’s better. Not when you’ve helped him so much.

“Don’t mention it, really,” you say, eyes so kind that he wishes he could hold your gaze forever. “I’m so glad Mabosstiff’s better.”

“Yeah,” he responds, feeling elated that he can share this moment with you. He continues to hug Mabosstiff close, whose tail has been wagging rapidly. The pulse thrumming through Mabosstiff’s body makes another shot of happiness move through Arven’s veins. “Yeah.”

Arven wonders if it’s all right to be this happy, but he decides that it’s okay to bask in it for now.

After all, what else can he feel when both Mabosstiff and you were by his side?

---

The moment Arven realizes he’s in love with you, it’s because he realizes that it’s because he can’t imagine life without you.

His mood had considerably soured when his parent had called you, especially since his parent wanted something from you. Bitterness rose to Arven’s throat, leaking into his words as his parent requested your help. He’d honestly rather you never interact with the professor that abandoned him. Still, you agree to help the professor and though Arven doesn’t want to be treated like an errand boy, he knows he owes you one.

Well, he owes you a lot, actually, which is why he helped you through the professor’s crazy request. He wants to be a pillar of support to you, like you were to him. So, he stood by you as you went to Area Zero.

But now that everything is solved, technically, he wonders if he should’ve gone with you at all.

Finding out that his parent had died years ago – he’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel. Sad? Angry? Frustrated? Scared?

Arven inhales, looking at the starry expanse above him. Somehow, despite the cloudiness in his heart, the stars shine bright as always. Somehow, despite the heaviness in his heart, he ends up drawing your visage in the constellations. You, who shines brighter than the stars, slumbering inside the tent next to Nemona and Penny. You, who braved the dangers of Area Zero. You. He wishes he can see you.

“Arven?” you call, and Arven wonders how he’s able to wish your presence into existence.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, hearing the yawn in your voice.

“No, I just…” you pause, “...I just couldn’t sleep.” Slowly, you make your way over to him. “Can I sit with you?”

“‘Course,” he replies, heart leaping in his throat when you sit closer to him than he expected. His emotions begin to jumble further into some odd emotion stew as you two sit in silence. The stars. The professor. Mabosstiff. You. Everything.

“Are you okay?” you ask, finally breaking the silence.

Arven doesn't know the answer to that. “Are you?”

You’re silent, before you breathe in deeply. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Arven looks at you – you, who’s always been so brave and strong, and he sees. He sees the eyebags on your face. He sees the way your shoulders slump. He sees and he understands.

“...Thanks, Arven.”

“What?” The gratitude you express takes him by surprise, which you see when you turn your attention to him and meet his eyes.

“For coming with me. And helping me get Penny and Nemona on board. And… well, helping me adjust to Paldea. Traveling with you helped a lot, you know.” You inhale deeply, before your head seems to naturally rest on Arven’s shoulder, making him freeze. “I just… I don’t think I could’ve been down there by myself. So, yeah. Thank you.”

Arven’s not sure what to say. He’s still processing everything and if anything, he really should be thanking you. You, who helped him heal Mabosstiff. You, who let him vent about his parent. You, who reassured him the entire time in Area Zero. You, who’s still here, by his side, thanking him. You.

“I think I’m in love with you.” It dawns on Arven that he’s a mess of emotions and probably shouldn’t be talking. In fact, he probably should shut up now since you’ve removed your head from his shoulder, opting to look at him with wide eyes, but he can’t. “You’ve always been there for me. You didn’t have to, but you’ve been there. And you’re still here.” He inhales. Can you see how much he wants to hold you close? “Seriously, I should be thanking you.”

“Arven…”

Arven’s words finally catch up to his brain, making his cheeks flush. “Arceus, sorry.” He deflects his gaze from you. “I’m just– I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, softly, placing your hand on his cheek to turn his face to you. “It’s been a long journey, y’know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t a mess. I mean, remember what the sand did to us that one time when we beat the fourth Titan? Or the mud bath we had because of the third Titan?”

Despite his embarrassment, he can’t help but snort in laughter, which makes you smile.

“Arven,” your thumb brushes against his cheek, feeling the warmth radiating off of him, “Don’t ever apologize for expressing yourself, okay? I want you to talk to me if you need to. I’ll be here – I’ll always be here for you.”

Arceus, how could he have ever avoided falling for you? Everything you’ve done for him, everything he observes, it all builds and builds and builds until he feels like his love for you is reaching beyond the skies.

“And… maybe this isn’t the best time for this, but…” you gaze flickers to the ground, bashful, “I like you too.”

Arven blinks. Once. Twice. “Oh.”

Your lips quirk upward, your gaze shy. “Do you think you’d be okay if I stayed by your side?”

“Would you be okay with that?” Arven says, grabbing your hand. “Would… Me? You’d be okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Arven wonders if he’s dreaming. He’s been constantly abandoned that he never thought that someone would willingly want to be with him. But here you are – here you always are. He can feel his eyes well up, and you let out a small laugh at that.

“I feel like I keep making you cry.”

He laughs for the first time since you had gotten the call from the professor. “I don’t think I’ve cried this much since I was five.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just a heartbreaker.”

He snorts, mirth dancing on his face, despite the unshed tears.

“But don’t worry, I’d never break your heart.”

“You’re killin’ me, here,” Arven wheezes, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

You respond by drawing him into a hug, laughter tickling his ear. Despite him being bigger than you, somehow you make him feel safe in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, eyes closing as he holds you close. He’s not sure when it started, or when it’ll end, really, but he feels the overwhelming emotions he’s feeling slowly leave him. He can’t fully comprehend what he’s feeling, still trying to balance the grief, the shock, the relief. Maybe he won't ever know what he's feeling. But when he feels you bury your face into his chest, wet tears decorating his shirt, he thinks it’s okay that he doesn’t fully know what he’s feeling.

He doesn’t know when he’ll be fine, maybe he won’t be fine for a while. But with you in his arms, by his side, he thinks he’ll be okay.

And he’ll do everything to make sure you’ll be okay, too.

[backtothefanfiction]

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER 

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?” 

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

[webslingingslasher]

ok but what if some girl would be saying that she slept with frat!peter after some party (where he was with trouble) and stuff like "oh yeah he had me calling him daddy and he's totally not a boob guy" and trouble overhears her and goes to peter with "you would not believe what i have just heard" and joking that maybe she has magic tits or something

you weren't listening.

minding your own business, pouring liquor into plastic cups, and cracking a can of sprite for a mixer; a group of friends crowded behind you. not listening, but certain words poked out more than others.

"he's fucking jacked by the way, it's like when i hooked up with parker."

your blood ran cold, frozen in place you were straining your hearing for each word to follow, if she didn't add more context you'd be shaking peter by his shirt.

a friend gasps, "you did? when?"

oh, not old news?

yeah, when did she?

flashing your eyes to peter, he's talking to someone and not paying attention. you'll kill him.

"like, around the start of the school year?"

oh thank god, he's in the clear.

"okay, well... spill!"

you can't walk away, your feet are glued to the vinyl floor. maybe, you just want to know if peter's telling the truth when he says you're different than the rest.

"ass man all the way, insisted on doggy. big dick, strong game, threw me around a little, had me calling him daddy and everything. not very affectionate though, i don't think he kissed me, actually. and not a lick of a cuddle after, threw my dress at me and said 'need an uber?' but, hey, i'd still do it again."

another friend cackles, "too bad, nate begged him to do a double date and parker immediately shut it down and said, and i quote, 'no. i have a girlfriend. she doesn't want me dating other girls.' kinda sweet if you ask me."

your heart soars, this is the first time he's ever referred to you as his girlfriend. not that you were, at least not officially, but it's easier to explain than what you actually were, and you had no idea what you were. you assume he doesn't either.

their conversation falls into something else, making you feel confident in moving away from the counter with a full cup in each hand, walking straight to the most interesting man of the night.

peter perking up instantly, leaving his friend with a fist bump, meeting you halfway.

"hi trouble, i missed you." a warm kiss placed on your cheek, you can't help the grin while handing him his drink, "hi handsome, i got a question..." you trail your words off and shift your back against his chest so he'd have a clear view of who you're pointing at.

"see that group of friends, do you know anyone there?"

he barely gives them a look over, one harm slung over your waist, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, "no, don't think so."

nudging him, "no, really. look." a sigh, "looking, no one looks familiar." the back of your head hits his chest, "peter, c'mon. please don't tell me you're one of those guys."

"i don't know what you mean! are you testing me or something?"

turning in his hold, a small pout hangs. "you hooked up with one of them. tell me which one and you earn two brownie points."

that changes things, because now peter knows what the mission is and how to identify previous suitors. mind ticking and eyes running over each body in a different way. watching him analyze is interesting. You wonder what he looks for in a hookup.

"the one in the middle. i'm sure of it, but i can't remember her name. I think it started with an 's' or 'v' maybe 'l'?"

"It's whitney," peter cheers his cup on your shoulder, "oh yeah, that's right."

you spin in his grasp, "liar. i made that up." peter pulls you closer, "you're just so convincing, trouble. call me gullible."

humming, you press a kiss to his chin, "she was talking about you, wanna hear?"

"this feels like a trap, i don't like this idea."

"oh, you should. i heard all about you in bed, and how you told nate i was your girlfriend." peter shakes his head, "i think you've been hitting the sauce hard tonight and you're making things up."

shaking your head like a toddler, "nope, i heard the truth about daddy." peter's head is thrown back with a groan, "alright, wow, we're really doing this. what else did you hear?"

"that you're an ass man, and," you sway on your feet and pretend to twirl a stand of hair, a nasally sarcastic tone rips, "you're like so, super fucking jacked. like, seriously so sexy. ugh! with a big dick too!"

peter presses a kiss to your cheek, "thank you for the compliments, baby." another kiss, the corner of your mouth, "even if you're sarcastic." a delicate kiss to your lips, "and a little wrong."

"which part was wrong? she's right, you've got a fucking wrench."

your cup is pulled from your hand, "alright, it's done. we're done."

a whine, "no! c'mon, please, daddy?"

"i'll silence you and you won't like it."

"will it be with your monster coc-"

a hand is slapped over your mouth, "i'll kill you, and won't have a problem with it."

[queers-gambit]

When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[deansbite]

　　　𝒥���　　｡　　you get what you ask for

pairings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　afab!reader x soldier boy / ben

warnings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　18+ mdni !!　kinktober　pillow humping　dry humping　humiliation　degrading　praise　orgasm denial　mentions of spanking　irritated!ben　needy!reader　implied bratty!reader　voyeurism (fav funky word)

summary　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　ben had reached his breaking point with you, little did you know that he would be taking it out on you. You knew you wanted his attention, very greedy for it in fact, but you didn’t know how humiliating it was from your perspective. How do you like it now having your orgasm privileges taken away from you?

READERS POV

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You truly don't know how you even got into this situation. It was humbling, you went from testing Ben’s limits over and over again and riling him up, to having a pillow propped up between your legs. You wanted attention, yeah.. but this? This just made you feel smaller and smaller by the second with how Ben was staring you down. He was sat across from you, in an arm chair. He was leaned back, relaxed and his arms were crossed. You notice his eyebrow raise in expectation.

“Whatcha waitin' for, sweetcheeks? Thought you wanted this.. thought you wanted my attention?” he taunted, just ever so slightly — but the tone of his voice was so soft, but you and he both were on the same page when it came to agreeing that he was irritated with you. You batted your eyelashes at him, maybe to sort-of calm him down. Although he refused to budge. “Come on, raw dog that pillow like you usually do when you miss me.” he said it in a tone that would make you think he was suggesting you to do it.

But you knew better than to piss ben off twice. Sure, he was a giant bear and much, much more gentle when it came to you. Despite that, he still tamed you in a way. He wasn't ever violent. 'Cause god knows he could snap you in half like a twig in a second if he wanted too. Though he did occasionally spank you, the degradation, but you were used to it. One thing he hadn't done with you yet was you humping a soldier boy pillow in front of his very eyes.

You did tell him about it, when he went out you would occasionally hump the very special pillow he had bought for you and the exact same pillow he told you how he wanted you to hump it when he went out on missions with Billy, Hughie, MM, Frenchie and Kimiko who tagged along for Frenchie. nothing new, of course, yet still embarrassing.

So, before you could agitate Ben any further, you ground your hips down on the pillow. You had your panties seperating your basically aching core from the fabric you were grinding against. Your breath hitched and your head was thrown back after a couple more minutes of the same, repeated motion. It was a swift and smooth looped movement. “Eyes on me or the pillow, darlin'.” His voice dragged you out of your current thoughts and you immediately nodded, eyes focused on emerald green eyes that were practically boring into your skull.

“And I want a clear, verbal response from ya the moment you're about to cum, mkay, sweetheart?” Ben told you, his tongue darting out his mouth to apply a thin, glossy coat of saliva that sat perfectly on his plump lips. “Hey, I asked you somethin', answer me." and, you hadn't answered after a couple of minutes, so, he started speaking again. "Hey, look at me, or is your pretty little mind filled with dirty thoughts of me. hmm? Fuckin' whore. When I ask somethin' you damn well know to answer. Just like when you ask me sumthin' you get what you ask for, don'tcha baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The words caused an immediate reaction out of you, your eyes widened and a light pink hue appeared on your cheeks. You swallowed thickly, gathering all possible thoughts. “And I didn't tell you to fuckin' stop, now, did I? Come on, I knew you became a good little cockwhore for me when I fill your cunt up all nice like a good bitch. But I didn't expect you to become all incoherent and brainless 'cause of a goddamn pillow." He scoffed to himself. "Guess anything can turn you on.” the absolute filth escaping his lips caused your body to react — whether you wanted, too or not.

Your hips got back to work, hands gripping onto the fabric with Bens face on it, your pussy rubbing against the material of your panties and the soft object. Strings of moans and curses escaping your lips that could put a sailors mouth to shame. All in the meanwhile, you could see Ben shift ever so slightly in the armchair, his arms still crossed over his chest and just.. watching.

This was beyond humiliating. You were basically naked — only thing covering you up being your underwear, so the cool air hit your chest and you were panting. Not to mention, you just felt yourself heating up more and more even when you started to think it would stop.

You started to try to get off more, by imagining Bens hands running all ovef your body, stopping at your hips and gripping onto them with that strong grip of his, he would tease just in the slightest bit — and then finally connect his tongue to your entrance -

Before you realized it, you felt your orgasm forming in the pit of your stomache, the stimulation against your cunt and the filthy things that left Bens mouth and the way he was watching without even doing anything was just too much. “I'm about.. I'm about —” you were stumbling over your words as your movements got sloppier and uncoordinated, just seeking release without much thought behind it.

You were right on the edge until it all came to an abrupt stop. You were stopped dead in your tracks and you, very rightfully, were confused. You slowly had felt a grip on your hips. You let out a pathetic whine and glanced at Ben, you didn't even notice him walk over to you. He had a neutral expression and maybe even a little annoyed. “Told you to tell me when you were gonna cum, hm? Can't even follow simple orders. Exactly why I should fill your mouth if you ain't even gon' use it right, sweetcheeks.” he paused, "Or maybe.. I should just not give you what you ask for. Leave you all pent up and leave you to wait for the next time I’ll use you again, isn't that right, doll?"

Before you could even get a word out, he let go of your hips, reached between your legs and in a painfully slow way, grabbed onto the pillow and removed it from between your thighs. Leaving you pretty much dissatisfied and your own arousal and slick coating your underwear which was.. in one word, uncomfortable.

"Made a fuckin' mess on my face, baby." he tutted, point out the wet patch over his face on the fabric of the pillow. "If I find out you pleased yourself, you'll be in a lot of trouble. I mean it, doll. Don't test me with this. You've pissed me off more than enough today." he shoved the pillow under his armpit and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before he pulled away as soon as he connected his with yours.

"I know your body well enough to know if you lie, baby." he warned one last time before he exited your shared bedroom. You felt the cool air hit you and your uncomfortable ache and the high that you were about to reach was sizzling down.

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okay this was actually my first EVER smut fic i wrote in like. laate august or start of october i dont remember but this freak @fourkilljoys proofread it n i am surely not reading this shit again so!!!! heh.. i hope u enjoyed

tags: @pearlzier @fallbhind @beausling @dollsltt @psychicnatural @deanswidow @gibson-g1rl @fourkilljoys

amab vers: right here

[mandarinmoons]

could you write spencer x reader where she's pregnant but everyone finds out before reader does and spencer is the one to tell her, like the scene with Cece and schmidt in new girl. ofc u can write it however that's just where i got the idea from. thank you 💋

I haven't seen New Girl so I don't know how it all went down in the show, but I hope my take is alright x

The members of the BAU had started to notice that you had started to act a bit strange. 

JJ noticed that you had started to go to the bathroom at what seemed like every half an hour while Penelope, who was known as the team’s personal baker, saw that you had started to decline her homemade cookies. Something was fishy.

“Spencer!” Penelope carefully hurried to the man’s way in her high heels, “We gotta talk.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Have you noticed that Y/N’s been acting a bit, hmm, I don’t know, strange lately?”

Spencer furrowed his brows and blinked a few times, “What do you mean?”

“Y/N is always the first one to take one of my cookies whenever I bring them in and now she’s refusing and saying the smell makes her feel sick. And, and JJ said that Y/N’s been feeling sick lately and-,”

“Wait, what? She’s sick?”

Penelope's eyes widen and she stares at Spencer, “You didn’t know? JJ’s noticed that she’s been going into the bathroom a whole lot recently.”

Spencer shook his head as he glanced towards you. Usually he’s the first to notice whenever you’re acting off, but with all of the work being piled up on his desk, if it didn’t happen right in front of his eyes, he wouldn’t be in the know.

“Have you noticed anything else?”

“Uh let’s see, she said she’s been feeling more tired recently. She said it could be from going to bed later at night or- oh wait, you don’t think that…”

Spencer nodded and excused himself as he walked towards you, the idea of what could be causing your unease could be more beautiful than nerve wrecking.

Spencer walked up behind your desk chair and rested his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing over the blades.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m alright,” you looked up from your paperwork and gave Spencer a smile.

“Penelope said you’ve felt a bit sick lately.”

“Oh um, yeah it’s nothing though. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

“Are you sure? How long has it been going on?”

“Oh um, I’m not sure, a week maybe?”

“A week? And you haven’t told me?”

“Spence I’m sorry I just, it’s always gotten better and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“But it’s kept coming back?”

“I guess yeah, why?”

Spencer sighed and caressed your cheek, “Sweetheart, don’t you see?”

You furrowed your brows and a moment later you realized what Spencer was hinting at, it was becoming clear.

“You don’t think that I’m…”

“Pregnant? It could be.”

You sighed and rubbed your hands over your face. Spencer kneeled down in front of you and took your hands in his, "Hey, listen to me, we’re going to be okay. I’m right here with you through all of it and if it really is what we think it is then I’m going to do my best to take care of both of you, I promise.”

“I know you would, Spence, it’s just a lot of responsibility.”

“I know, but I’m willing to put in the effort. I want this, I want this with you.”

Tears pricked your eyes and Spencer leaned over and kissed your forehead.

Later that night as the work day ended you and Spencer stopped by a pharmacy and picked up a few pregnancy tests and headed home with crossed fingers. 

Half an hour later and four pregnancy tests later, that were all positive. Spencer held you tightly in his arms as you both took in the news, you were going to be parents.

“Are you sure you want this? With me?”

Spencer nodded and kissed your head, “Of course, there’s no one else I’d rather experience this with. Do you want this?”

You looked up at Spencer as he brushed the hair from your eyes. You thought about the time you had spent together, how over the years it seemed like he became even more delicate with you if that were even possible. The times you had seen him with kids made your heart soar and a part of you did hope that one day you could experience the joy of having a family together. Sure this was unplanned, but that didn’t mean you two weren’t ready.

“I do want this, I want this with you.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @indigosamsblog

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

[abbyromanoff]

WHIPPED

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,009

WARNINGS: fluff, small smut, mentions of straps, Nat being completely whipped, Wanda being a tease, fwb, small angst

THIS WAS A REQUEST FROM THIS ANON!!

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“So, same time next week?” Nat asked, a small hopefulness in her tone. She was leaning on her elbow, the blanket covering the rest of her nude body. You were sitting on the edge of the bed trying to gather your clothing that had been tossed away after your activities.

This has been going on for close to three months now, you’d meet up every few days to have meaningless sex, at least that’s what it started as. The two of you had quickly grown more than platonic feelings, but you were both blinded to it. Which is why everyone else had started to get fed up with your behavior towards one another.

“Yeah, I’ll text you whenever I’m free.” You smiled before kissing her cheek and leaving with a quick glance. She grinned to herself, cuddling into the stuffed animal you had gotten her. Nobody had ever gotten to see this side of her, and she was planning to keep it that way, but she didn’t expect to meet you.

The next day she had woken up to the sounds of rain pouring outside of her window. She quickly got ready and walked down the stairs to see you along with a few others in the kitchen.

“Hey guys, hey, Y/N.” You looked over your shoulder to see her wearing a sports bra and leggings with her hair in a ponytail, you had to hide your face as you bit your lip.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Hey.” You chuckled as you heard water overflowing from her water bottle and dripping onto the floor. She pulled it back and mumbled a small ‘shit’ under her breath. Wanda stifled a laugh as she shared a look with you, smirking as she took a small sip of her coffee.

“Here, Nat, I thought you might be hungry.” You handed her a plate of her favorite, an omelet with cheese and onions. She had always thought Melina would make the best eggs, but you changed her view entirely.

“Oh, t-thank you.” She quickly lowered her gaze as your eyes connected, your hand brushing hers as the plate was transferred into her hold.

“You’re welcome. Hurry up though, I don’t want to wait on you all day.” She was your sparring partner and had been since the first day. You two were placed in similar programs when you were children, so it was only best to test your abilities.

“You are so pussy-whipped.” Wanda chuckled when you left, receiving a glare from the redhead.

“Am not!” She defensively returned, taking a bite of her breakfast and lowly moaning at the taste.

“Really? So you don’t have feelings for her?”

“Nope, it’s just sex between us.”

“Good sex?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t even know- but that’s- that’s besides the point, I’m not in love with her.” Wanda eyed her suspiciously and Nat continued to stand her ground.

“I never said you were in love with her, I just asked if you liked her.” Nat rolled her eyes before placing the dish in the sink, her plate being completely cleared from every drop of food you served her. She really needed your cooking skills, maybe you could teach her. Maybe you could guide her as she added each ingredient into the pan, kissing her neck from behind and telling her how good she’s doing.

“I can read minds, Nat.” Wanda grimaced in disgust, making fake gagging noises and further annoying her teammate. Nat left the room and made her way to you, her mind begging for a break from the thought of you. Thinking about you made her so happy, but remembering it was just a thought brought a frown to her face, one that you wished you could kiss away.

Later in the week, you found yourself back in her bed, back in her hold.

“I love you, baby, love you so fucking much.” She muttered as her strap pounded into you repeatedly. You guessed it was an in-the-moment type of thing, but the way she spoke the words while lovingly kissing your neck made your head fill with possibilities.

“I love you too, Natty, I love you.” She stared deep into your eyes before her lips connected with yours. It wasn’t the same as usual, you could feel her emotions pouring into it.

That night was the first time you stayed, resting in her arms and replacing your teddy bear. She slept better than she had in years with you by her side, and it only became better when she woke to your sleeping form still with her.

The two of you walked into the kitchen shortly after you woke up, her hand toying with your fingers. She bit her lip with a giddy smile as your ring swirled as she turned it.

“Morning, lovebirds.” Wanda winked at you two playfully and you rolled your eyes, Nat didn’t seem to notice as she was too busy admiring your features. She didn’t know how you could possibly look even more beautiful than before, but somehow you did.

“Where are you going?” She dragged out, feeling your arm release hers as you started walking over to the stove. She followed behind you closely and let her arms wrap around your waist, her front pressed up against your back while her head rested on top of yours.

“Hi.” She whispered, earning a small chuckle from you. You turned your head to look at her, giving her a small peck on the lips before returning her greeting.

“Hello, my love.”

“You’re so pretty.” She gushed, making your cheeks turn a shade of red and matching her luscious hair.

“As are you, Nat. Do you mind grabbing me some milk from the fridge?” You two hadn’t even paid attention to the other guest in the room watching with a smile, only to make a face of disgust when Nat walked by. The older woman gave her a dark glare as she went to her side,

“So pussy-whipped.” Was all she said before walking away, a smirk planted on her face.