#I gotta answer the rest of my asks I’ve been
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biblical-chronicles · 15 hours ago
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Perfect
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where an interesting comparison you used in an interview intrigues Noel.
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Being part of the High Flying Birds had been a dream in itself, but working this closely with Noel? That was something else entirely. It hadn’t started that way, not exactly. At first, you were just another musician in the mix—lucky enough to be in the room, lucky enough to play on the tracks.
But somewhere along the way, things shifted.
Noel started asking for your input. First, little things—a chord change here, a harmony there. Then, bigger things. Whole sections of songs. Lyrics. Sometimes, he’d play you a demo before anyone else had even heard it, watching your reaction like it actually meant something. Like he trusted you with it.
And that was the thing about Noel—he wasn’t the type to let just anyone in. Everyone knew that. He was set in his ways, fiercely protective over his music, his process. If he let you close, it meant something.
But whatever it meant, neither of you ever said.
It was something that made you feel a little bit stupid, because there was no way in hell Noel thought about you like that.
On the other hand, you weren’t blind. You knew something was there, unspoken, just beneath the surface. The way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. The way he always found his way next to you in a crowded room. The way his fingers lingered just a second too long when he passed you a guitar.
It was almost laughable, the way you danced around it. Like two people standing at the edge of something, both too stubborn to be the first to jump.
And maybe that was why, when the interviewer asked you about him, the answer came out before you even had time to think.
“So, how’s it been then?” The journalist leaned forward, resting his dictaphone between you. “Writing with Noel, I mean. He’s not exactly known for sharing the load when it comes to songwriting. That must be… exhausting?”
You blinked, caught off guard for half a second before the words tumbled out, natural as anything. “No, no, it’s amazing actually,” you said, shaking your head. “Like, I know he’s got this whole thing of being dead stubborn, and yeah, sure, sometimes he’ll just look at you like you’ve said the stupidest thing in the world, but honestly? I’ve never been more excited to walk into a studio. He teaches me so much without even meaning to. Every time we work on something, I feel like I come out of it a better musician.”
You hesitated for a moment, then smirked. “He’s like if the G-string on your guitar didn’t go out of tune after a session, but as a person. Just consistently brilliant.”
The interviewer chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So, he’s perfect then?”
You let out a huff of laughter, feeling your face heat slightly. “Yeah… something like that.”
And that was how you found yourself suddenly feeling very exposed. Because even though the words had left your mouth so easily, so casually, you knew anyone listening closely enough could hear what you weren’t saying.
The interview wrapped up soon after, the journalist thanking you as he gathered his things. You plastered on a polite smile, exchanged pleasantries, then made your way back to your usual spot in the studio, still feeling a little warm from your own words.
A day or two passed without much thought about it, it wasn’t until you were sat alone in the studio, half-focused on tuning your guitar, that you were reminded of your little performance. You barely had time to glance up before Noel strolled in.
“Your perfect G-string has arrived.” he announced nonchalantly.
You frowned for a second, thrown off. “My what?”
Then it clicked. Your interview.
“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “You watched that?”
“Hard not to, innit?” He shrugged, stepping closer. “It’s everywhere. And I’ve gotta say, of all the things you could’ve compared me to, a G-string was a choice.”
You smirked, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, you don’t like it? I can always release a follow-up clarifying that I compared you to a G-string ‘cause you’re always up me arse.”
He let out a proper laugh at that, shaking his head. “You’re a cheeky little shit, you know that?”
“Takes one to know one.” you shot back, but there was an edge to his look now.
Noel tilted his head, analysing you. “Do you actually mean that love?”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit too warm. “What is this police interrogation?”
“Stop deflecting.” He pulled up a chair beside you, sitting way too close, his knee knocking against yours. “Come on, tell me. You actually mean all that stuff you said?”
You could’ve played it off, could’ve laughed it away, but there was no point. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when it had been obvious for months.
“Yeah,” you admitted softly, not quite meeting his eyes. “Thought it was quite obvious by now.”
There was a beat of silence, just long enough to make you second-guess yourself. But then, he reached out, fingers brushing your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him.
“Good.” he murmured, before kissing you.
It wasn’t rushed, just firm and sure, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had. His hand slid to the back of your neck, keeping you close, as you melted into him.
When you finally pulled away, you were a bit breathless, heart pounding as you searched his face for any sign that this was some kind of joke. But he was grinning, eyes warm, thumb still tracing absentminded circles against your skin.
“So, does this mean we’re official now?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you.
“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “I’d love to officially be your G-string.”
You groaned, pushing him away as he laughed. “God, you won’t let that go, will ya?”
“Not a chance.”
“I meant the guitar string, you absolute muppet.”
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story aside, this is a serious concern of mine, why the fuck is the g-string always magically untuning itself? any science behind that?
anyway, hope you lot liked it and thanks for the request xx
love ya !!
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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
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Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
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You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
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livwritessometimes · 3 months ago
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What Can I Say? I’ve Got That Charm
: Part 13 (Lando’s Version)
: Y/n and Lando film their first vlog together!
: Prev | Next
: Series Masterlist
: Main Masterlist
: Author’s Note- No sneak peek this time because I just could not think of 4 different photos for this chapter
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gamerboilando added to their story!
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seen by whoisy/nanyways, gamermaxonline and 3,720 others
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As Y/n made her way upstairs, a chill ran down her spine. It was a cold night, which made her wonder what Lando was doing up there in the first place. Opening the door, she saw Lando peering over the city.
"Don't you think it's a little too cold for you to be here in a half shirt?" Y/n said as she adjusted the sleeves of her hoodie.
Lando turned to look at her, smiling softly as he said, "Maybe," before turning back to look at the city.
"So why are you here?" Y/n asked as she inched further towards where Lando was standing.
"Nothing, I just...like to come up here when I need to breathe," He said.
"Hmm," Y/n hummed as she stood directly next to him, resting her head on her arms.
It felt nice. It had been a while since Y/n had visited the rooftop; the last time was when she moved into the complex. It was nice to be up here–peaceful even.
So lost in her thought, Y/n almost missed what Lando was saying, "Huh," She said asking him to repeat his question.
"Do you ever think that maybe this isn't what you're supposed to do in life?" Lando asked, his voice low, leaving a heavy silence in the air.
"What do you mean?" Y/n asked, turning herself so that she was now facing the boy in front of her.
"Like, do you ever wonder how life would have been had you not taken the course that you did? If maybe you had done something that was more...valuable?" Lando asked, glancing at Y/n and then back at the view in front of him.
"Sometimes," Y/n answered truthfully. She continued, "I do think about what my life would have been like had I taken medicine like my mother or business like my dad."
Turning back to look at the city, Y/n said, "But you know what I've realized? There will always be these unanswered 'what ifs' that follow us all our lives. You can never escape that....the only thing you can do is have faith in your decisions, even if the future is uncertain. You just gotta believe you're doing the right thing."
Lando looked at Y/n, watching the city lights cast a soft glow over her face. "You know, I can be really philosophical sometimes. You just gotta spend more time with me Norris to know this side of mi-" Y/n was silenced as Lando cupped her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss.
He could not help the sudden burst of emotions that took over him. Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers. "Be my girlfriend," He said.
"What?" Y/n was thrown off guard by the sudden question. She could feel her heart racing in her chest as she waited for Lando to answer her.
"Be my girlfriend," Lando repeated this time, looking her right in the eye.
"Are you serious?" Y/n questioned. If you had told her a month ago that the noisy neighbor from the floor above her, whom she hated with a passion, would be standing in front of her asking her to be his girlfriend, she would have laughed in your face.
"As serious as I'll ever be," Lando said, his eyes glistening with sincerity.
"Yes," Y/n whispered, as she leaned in to close the gap between them.
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...
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shrimpybbq · 1 month ago
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thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that
this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,
“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”
“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”
rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.
“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.
“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“
rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.
“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.
“No, but-”
“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”
rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),
“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”
rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,
“Feeling better, baby?”
she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.
“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”
rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.
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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago
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Stay A While
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Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,944
Part: 1 of ??
Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.
When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.
Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 
The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 
“Hello?”
Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 
“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 
“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 
“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 
“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 
“And what does that have to do with me?” 
Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”
“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 
“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”
“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 
Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 
“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 
Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 
“Another round, brother?” 
Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 
“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 
A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 
“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 
“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 
------
City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  
After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.
The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 
“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 
He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 
Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”
Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 
Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.
Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.
They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 
Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.
“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 
He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 
“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 
“Any time.” 
A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 
“I look crazy, huh?” 
“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 
“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 
“Don’t start, TJ.” 
“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 
“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 
“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 
Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 
“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 
The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 
Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 
“Treece, I can do it.” 
“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”
His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.
“So, how you doing? How you been?” 
“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 
“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 
“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 
“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 
Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 
“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 
Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 
“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 
“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 
“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 
Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 
Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 
Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 
“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 
“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 
“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 
Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 
“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 
“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 
A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 
Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 
For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 
By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 
Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.
Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 
The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 
It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.
After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 
Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.
Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.
She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.
“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 
“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 
“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”
Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”
“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”
Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.
“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 
He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 
“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 
“TJ for you.” 
Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 
“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 
“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 
“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 
“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“What’d you lose?” 
“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 
“Why?”
“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.
Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.
“You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 
“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”
Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 
She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 
“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 
Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 
Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 
Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.
“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 
“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 
“I fucked that up.” 
“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 
“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 
He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 
He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 
She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 
Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 
“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 
“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.
He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.
“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 
Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 
“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 
TAGS: @planetblaque
Happy to tag whoever is interested.
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maxsimagination · 5 months ago
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breeding kink with paige!!
𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 - 𝙥.𝙗𝙪𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨
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summary: yn + babies = horny paige.
-> !! strap use, breeding kink !!
-> i’m sorry i’ve been mia for ages !
𖦹 masterlist
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“𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗚𝗘! 𝗛𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗨𝗣 we gotta go!”
i shout at my girlfriend from the bottom of the stairs. we had to leave if we wanted to get to my parents house in time.
“i’m coming!”
the tall blonde came hurtling down the stairs, still pulling her shirt on.
it was the family dinner/reunion, since i hadn’t seen all of them in a while. my family all knew of paige and most have met her, but my sister and her husband had been away overseas and haven’t had the chance yet.
we finally made it to the car and paige hopped in the drivers seat, she always drove us around.
when we got to my parents house there was already cars parked in the driveway. i grabbed paige’s hand and walked up to ring the doorbell. it was my mother who answered the door, grabbing me in a big hug when she saw me.
i stepped aside to reveal paige and my mother hugged paige enthusiastically.
“so nice to see you again, paige!”
“nice to see you too, mrs. yln. thank you for having me.”
she invited us in, rambling about how happy she was to have the whole family here. that’s when my sister came to see who had arrived, and in her arms was a tiny baby.
my gasp was audible as i stared at the little human.
“when were you going to tell me you had a child?”
my sister only laughed and handed the baby over to me. i cradled the thing in my arms, staring down at it lovingly.
“her name is celia. we only had her a couple months ago.”
i let out a breathy ‘aww’, turning to paige.
“paige look! it’s so tiny and cute.”
i looked up at my girl to show her the baby, which she was already doing.
“oh also paige this is my sister, charlie.”
paige reached over to shake hands with my sister and her husband who was standing behind her. my mother interrupted then, telling us all to go to the dining area.
we all moved towards the table, taking a seat as my mother and father brought out the food. i passed celia back over to my sister while we ate, not wanting to injure her.
after everyone was done eating we all sat and talked, chatting about everything. paige was asked about her basketball which she seemed to like. she had a hand resting on my thigh, edging upwards every so often.
almost an hour later and it was time for me and paige to go home. we bid farewell to everyone, waving as we exited the house.
paige took my hand as we walked to the car.
she didn’t say much on the drive home, occasionally humming along to whatever song was on the radio, but she was abnormally quiet.
even after we had gotten through the door, paige was still quiet.
“p, what’s going on?”
“you drove me insane today.”
“mmm?”
“when you had celia… it made me think. i want to have babies with you. badly.”
“ohh. y’know you should’ve said something earlier, p. we could’ve left early… had some fun.”
her eyes grew visibly darker, bordering on possessive.
“yea? care to show me what kind of fun we’re talking about?”
i threw a devilish smirk at her before walking to the closet, reaching for our secret drawer. opening it to grab the newest addition to our collection, a purple strap.
i walk it back to paige, handing her the toy and simultaneously dragging my hands up her toned arms and stomach.
“want you to put your babies in me, p.”
i speak in a low, sultry tone.
paige doesn’t miss a beat, walking me back to fall onto the bed. she strips down to her sports bra, taking her boxers off and stepping into the harness. i take the hint and remove my dress to reveal a matching lingerie set, purple to match paige.
she catches sight of it and immediately grins.
“all dressed up for me, ma?”
i nod vigorously, desperate for paige to touch me. she takes her eyes over my semi exposed body, skimming her fingers over the lace bra i had on.
“take it off.”
her voice is quiet but i still hear her. my fingers are quick to remove the piece and paige latches her mouth onto my nipple immediately after.
“mmm.”
the sensation sends shocks to my core.
paige only pulls back after she’s given ample attention to both tits. she promptly grabbed my ankles and dragged me to the edge of the bed.
running a finger through my folds, gathering the forming wetness and sucking it off her digit. the sight made me wetter.
paige lined up the strap with my entrance, holding my legs wide. when she finally pushed in i let out a sigh at the pleasure. we started with a slow pace, before paige thrusted faster. the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room, the feeling of the strap hitting just the right spot pushing me closer to my first orgasm of the night.
paige had hooked both my legs over her shoulders, picking up the pace even further. she had incredible stamina, barely breaking a sweat.
“p-paige, i’m close.”
she kept her pace, adding her fingers to rub against my clit.
that surely sent me over the edge as i cried out paige’s name while i came.
paige slowed down and pulled out, careful not to jostle me too much. i came down off of my high to a grinning paige.
“no rest for the wicked, baby. i know you’ve got one more in you.”
i wanted to laugh at how horny paige was even after what we’d done. paige guided me onto all fours and easily slipped back inside me.
she started thrusting slowly, allowing me to adjust to the pace. soon she was quickening her pace, harsh thrusts hitting just right inside me. it was overwhelming, the pleasure rushing back in waves.
i moaned out, arching my back so my ass and pussy were up in the air and pushing back on paige’s strap.
“that’s it baby, keep fucking me like that.”
her hands grabbed my ass, guiding me back and forth through her thrusts.
“oh, paige! i’m cumming!”
her thrusts became harder, more determined.
“‘m gonna pump my babies in you. such a pretty mama.”
and with that i was spasming around her plastic cock. i moaned out in pleasure, telling paige not to stop, to fuck me through it.
she slowed down eventually and pulled out, this time discarding the strap on the bedside table. i collapsed onto my side, thoroughly fucked out.
“do you think you’ll have my babies now?”
paige grinned cheekily at me with that glint in her eye.
“if i don’t then we always have tomorrow to make up for it.”
paige took that promise literally.
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logansargeantsbabymom · 9 months ago
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Lonely Christmas
Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
summary: Lando and Y/N decide that they want to play a prank on their fans and the rest of the grid by hinting at breaking up over X (twitter)
warnings: Cursing & “Cheating”
F1 Masterlist
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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“hey babe, I have an idea.” I said with a smirk as I plopped myself on the bed next to my Formula 1 race winner boyfriend, Lando Norris.
“Oh no, this doesn’t sound good” Lando says chuckling as he props himself on his elbow to get a better view of me, before leaning down pressing a quick kiss to my lips
“mm, I think we should prank your fans and the grid.” I said with the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled in my life.
“and how do you suppose we do that, hmm?” Lando said, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.
Sitting up and criss cross apple sauce, I stare into his soul “I think we should stage a twitter breakup,” I searched his face for some type of answer
“What? Is this a way of telling me you want to breakup without telling me you want to breakup?” He looks kinda hurt, which quickly prompts me to swing my legs over his body so i’m sitting on his lower torso.
“Absolutely not baby! i love you beyond the galaxy. I just think this would be funny,” i plead but Lando looks unsure “I’ll tell you what to say and all !”
“fine, but only if you let me eat you out, BUT you have to sit on my face” Lando knows I’m insecure about my weight and crushing him to death.
“oh! fine!!” I say plopping right off his body and landing on the bed with a huff. “so i’m gonna tweet something to indicate that we’re breaking up but not actually saying anything”
“and how are you gonna do that-” I quickly interrupt him
“make me cry” i say nonchalantly
“what?” Lando’s face reads 50 shades of Stunned “no, I promised you and your family that the one thing i’d NEVER do to you is make you cry.”
Hearing Lando admit that means the world to me, but i need him to stop being nice and make me cry. It doesn’t take much for me to cry and since Lando doesn’t want to make me cry, I’ll resort to the next best thing: thinking of my (very much alive) dog die.
Just a few seconds of thinking of my (breed/dog) die, the tears well up in my eyes and I let out a choked sob, before whipping my phone out and taking a picture before posting it on twitter with the caption
"nobody wants a lonely Christmas but I'm about to call it quits with you. Breaking up is at the top of my wishlist and baby you don't have a clue."
I flip my phone to show Lando with a smirk plastered on my face. "So, what'd ya think?" I question as I post it and wait a few seconds before twitter starts going absolutely nuts. " wait wait let me read you some of the comments I'm getting, 'slut4ln' says 'NO MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP FIGHTING' haha look, here's another 'mother/n' said 'mother always knows wtf is up, Lando Norris count your days' !!" the chuckles leaving my lips are loud
"I think that I don't know how to respond to that on twitter," Lando says with a faint chuckle "here, how about you take my phone, type out what you want me to say and then let me read it before posting it." a smirk evident on his face as he hands me his phone, before putting said hand on my thigh, rubbing it up and down.
"What about this...?" I question as I'm typing
"You say our relationships fading and you've been thinking bout leaving and though I know it's the truth I just don't want to believe it. You've gotta be kidding me, are we really breaking up? We just picked out a tree, damn."
"Okay Y/N/N lets give it a second to spread, we have to get juicy comments before we keep going, oh. never mind. George is texting me asking me what the fuck I did and why am I arguing twitter about it"
"fuck it, ignore him. we need to make this believable." I say swiping George's message away. "Opinion on this?"
"wait wait, let me tweet something else before you tweet y/n/n. Here, read this"
"You haven't even left yet and I miss you. I was looking forward to the holidays with you. How could you do this on Christmas, girl that's so malicious? C'mon baby, please don't make me beg cause I can go and date your friend instead. Yeah, I'll put the nut in meg. But If you're thinking about leaving, then I already blew it. screw it, then I guess I'll have to beat you to it, bitch."
"OKAYYYY LANDOOOO LET ME STEP UP MY GAME!!!" I scream as I finished reading his reply after he hit tweet bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.
"okay, okay what about this for me?" I question as I finish typing, turning my phone so Lando can read what I typed.
"I tell you I love you but I don't really mean it, cause after this Christmas sorry but I'm leaving you."
"I'm starting to feel like you're just soft launching a break up with us right now" Lando says "Why else would you gave suggested a fake twitter break up?"
"Baby, please. This is just for shits and giggles. AHH OH MY GOSH!! OSCAR'S CALLING ME" I screamed in panic as I declined the call. "Lando, I think you need to eat me up in the twitter beef again, put your pretty head to work and think of some insults for me."
"I'm almost done, but first I got a question. Why is it one week before Christmas you feel the need to mention a break up with me is in the process but still pending? Is it depending on your gift and what I'm spending? Or are you fishing for more compliments? Because to my astonishment, you're acting like little kid. Was it something I said?Sometimes my head stops thinking, when I say some stupid shit to you, you know I don't mean it, it's just the season, it's confusing, can we just get along?"
"LANDO MY COMMENTS ARE GOING CRAZYYYY! LOOK" I giggle in excitement as I flip my phone so he can scroll through the comments
slut4ln: MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP! CHRISTMAS IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH A DIVORCE RN
georgeswhore: I wake up from a nap to SEE THESE?!?!?!?!
leclercsgf: What the absolute fuck did they fight about that THEYRE BEEFING ON TWITTER FOR AND AIRING OUT A POTENTIAL BREAKUP???
>y/nforpresident: potential? honey I think they are done
Landoslefttoe: Lando kinda ate mom up though 😭😭
LewisHamilton: Answer your fucking phones now!
CharlesLeclerc: LANDO?? YOU CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND "BITCH"??
CarlosSainz: Cabron, call me asap and fill me in
LoganSargeant: Does this mean I actually have a chance with Y/n?
"I'm choosing to ignore Logan's comment," Lando said flipping my phone back so I could read it. "When are we gonna go public and say it was a prank?" Lando asks as he readjusts himself on the bed, pulling me down and closer to him so we're cuddling
"We can tell them all tomorrow" I yawn as I cuddle closer to my boyfriend "goodnight handsome"
"Goodnight precious" lando whispers as he kisses my temple
<333333
idk what this is but 🎀😗
@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101.
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSesvRpKqBaYY-Ow5IgHoD0gSX6OzJ03qGMXOhHUI6Xg1wfKaA/viewform.
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xxanaduwrites · 7 months ago
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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m’no good
✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️
summary: in which honey gets the call from johnny that benny’s in the hospital :( cal takes her to him. :’)
warnings: talks of being beaten, descriptions of injury, cursing, lying, crying, being judgy again. it’s an emotional one to say the least, but there’s some sweet moments & a happy ending :)
author’s note: this is NOT in order with the last two parts posted. instead, it’s a future installment in “bein’ married.” you can find the timeline in da main hive masterlist. this is heavily based on the events of the bikeriders movie of benny getting beat up & hospitalized. of course this is my own made-up spin on the situation at hand. idk this idea struck me at 3am & i wrote it in less than a day, so i figured i’d just release it now. you can find a mention of this scenario in session 1 of from the hive 🎙️🐝 this can be read alone if you like, but the interview context could help for sure! x
+ also if you were wondering, i personally picture honey as brittany murphy’s character in uptown girl’s molly gunn! i’ve been obsessing over her style in it & that’s what inspired honey’s style in my writing — especially with the embroidered overalls. you can picture her however you please, & i hope you continue to do as yourself ofc <3
word count: 4.7k (2x longer than the other parts, yay!)
💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You were in the midst of Sunday dinner with your parents when you got the news. News that would leave you scrambling out of the house in an instant with no thoughts behind your honeydew drop eyes besides him — besides Benny.
Your Pa was comfortable at the head of the table, a cigarette between his lips as he scanned the paper under reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Your Ma had just taken her seat at the table, a forkful stabbing into her salad. So when the phone rang your Pa didn’t even flinch. A result of him being too engrossed in his paper. On the other hand, your Ma sighed in a way that made you know she was evidently too tired to be on her feet again. This led you to announce that you’d get the phone. And you did, pulling it off the reciever and twisting your little finger around the warm yellow chord.
“Hi, you’ve reached The BeeHive. Honey speaking!” You chirped into the phone in your usual honey coated tone. Between your family business that consisted of beekeeping and honey jarring, answering the phone in such a way became rather customary and oddly normal. So much so that no one seemed to bat an eye besides your cousins who laughed every time they called. Absolute menaces indeed.
“Honey?” It was Johnny’s drawl on the line, rough and edgy with a twinge of something you couldn’t catch.
“Oh hi Joh— Mr. Davis!” You cleared your throat and corrected yourself. Trying to remain formal. Trying to remain respectable. Sure, you and Johnny were far from past that. Calling him Johnny instead of Mr. Davis was an entirely different respect that only you, Benny, the wives, and the rest of the guys would ever understand. So your parents? Well, they wouldn’t get that, and besides his kids were still your students after all. “How’s it goin’? Y’need to speak to my Pa? He’s right ‘ere.” You asked, your father’s demeanor easily shifting at the mention, his paper going flat against the table. It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to call your house. No — Johnny was a consistent buyer of your family’s honey. He incorporated it into the Club, handing the guys out honey beers during picnics and meetings. He learned of it from those community events you frequented with your parents, always having some sort of incorporation when catering was involved.
“Nah — nah.” He brushed that idea away rather quickly and your brows furrowed in confusion. “Gotta speak to yuh. Look I — I needa tell y’something, but if your Pa’s overhearin’ I need yuh to pretend we’re talking about the girls, alright?”
“I —“ you began but stopped short trying to compartmentalize what he was saying without reacting. “Oh, right I remember we were gonna talk about the girls' grades, yeah?” You rambled out, your words feeling far too thick coming out of your mouth, it almost didn’t sound like you. You feared your parents would catch on instantly, but instead their interest deflated as soon as nothing you said resembled anything to do with their business. It only took a second for your father to go back to his paper and beer and your mother to her salad.
“That’a good, Honey. Very good.” Johnny praised as you motioned with your hand that you were gonna step out of a sec, which really meant you were gonna pull the chord as far as you could into the other room. The distance — well it wasn’t much. The open archway from your parent’s kitchen to the living room wasn’t sound proof, so they could still technically hear every word you said, but your volume would be at lower frequency for sure, and your reactions practically undefinable.
“They’re doing real good, Mr. Davis. Bright girls you got there.” You muttered out so Johnny would know you were still there. You could feel your heart going a mile a minute as you paced the short distance available you could in restraint of the phone.
“I know. I know. They love ya, Honey, and they’re just fine. No need to worry ‘ere.” He reassured you, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The last thing you needed to hear was something bad about those babies. It would absolutely break your heart. But what you weren’t expecting to hear was something that would shatter it into a million little pieces. “It’s uh — it’s Benny.” Johnny said, and every fiber of your being went on fire, burning to ash. “He’s — he’s banged up, Honey. Got ‘im in the hospital and everything. ‘parently some jackasses got ‘im real good at some pub not too far from us. Beat him the fuck up, and broke his foot. Could’a lost the damn thing over his colors.”
A gasp left your lips in an instant, and you almost choked as you swallowed down a whimper to conceal the sudden volcano of tears bound to erupt. Now you understood why Johnny wanted — no needed this conversation to be under wraps. Your parents were already nervous about your ridin’ and to hear about some guys jumping your husband for bein’ part of the Club 'would have your parents in a frenzy. “I’m — I’m so sorry t—to hear that, J — Mr. Davis.” You continued the facade, a facade that pained you even more now as you tied back your emotions so forcfully wanting to rip from the seams. “Is your l-little girl okay?”
“He’s fine. They’re takin’ good care of him last I heard from Cockroach. He’s up and talkin’. Took ‘im to the hospital on the West End.” Johnny explained and little by little, piece by piece the fragments of your heart were starting to come back together, but you knew for certain, they wouldn’t be mended until you saw him. Until you got to touch him. Inspect him. Coddle him. Got to know who the fuck messed with him. “Go ‘n see ‘im. He needs his wife, alright?”
“I will.” You assured him, stepping back to peek through the archway at your parents who were still eating. Thankfully nothing seemed amiss. “I’ll be over soon with the homework she’s gonna miss for the week. Does she need anything else from me? Need a friend to bring her books home tomorrow?” You added in code. Code for ‘Who the fuck did this to him, and how could you help make sure those fuckers never got as close as a mile away from Benny again?’
“Nah. Don’t you be worryin’ now, Honey. The guys and I are on it. We’ll take care of ‘em. You take care of ‘im.” He settled on the plan. “Capisce?”
A wave of relief washed over you then. A relief that could only come from Johnny’s word alone. Cause you knew he’d take care of it. He always did. “Capisce.” You sniffled, not caring anymore if your parents caught on.
“Cal’s already on the way to pick ya up at your Ma’s.” He informed you. “Told ‘em to park around the corner so there’s no suspicion. You can tell ‘em you're stoppin’ by the house.” You never thought a time like this would leave you feeling extra grateful that Johnny and his family only lived a block away from your parents. But here you were, feeling just that.
You wanted to thank him then. The words were resting against your tongue heavily, so you made do with what you could. “Thank you, Mr. Davis. I’ll tell ‘em you said ‘ello. Please send my parents regards to your wife and the girls. I’ll be there soon.”
“Anything for ya n’ Benny. Y’know that. Yuh take care of y’self now, o—kay?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, itching to run out of your house and into Benny’s arms already. If you could. God, you sure hoped he wasn’t too banged up for a cuddle or two. Makin’ him feel a whole lot better was your main concern. “Bye Mr. Davis. See ya soon,” you spoke into the line before stepping heavily across the threshold and accidently putting the phone back on the hook with a little more aggression than you anticipated.
“Sorry,” you tensed and broke out in an innocent smile, “I gotta go to Mr. Davis’s. His girl is sick real bad with the Flu. Doctors says she’ll be out of school for a week and of course there’s all this important testin’ going on. Gotta keep ‘er on track, y’know? Such a good cookie. Get in a fit if she misses one lick of school.” You rambled on, adding more and more to lie you rather not tell, but knew it was for their own good. For your own good. For Benny’s. Your marriage. Your future. What you’d hope would become a bundle of joy or two with his pretty blue eyes and freckled face to match.
“‘Course she does. She’s a Davis after all.” Your father added, a fond smile stretching across his face.
“Oh that’s too bad,” your mother frowned, and then stood unexpectedly, her chair scraping against the kitchen flooring. “Here, I’ll pack ya some honey buns to take to ‘er.” Before you could protest your Ma was already piling some of her homemade buns into a metal cookie container and passing them to you.
“Real sweet, Mama.” You could feel your eyes startin’ to tear up again, that familiar wave of remembrance coming back to remind you what you were really leaving for. A wave of impatience that made your anxieties spike higher and higher at the prospect of more minutes ticking away without you being next to Benny. “M’sure it’ll make ‘er feel so much better in no time.” You kissed your Ma on the cheek in appreciaton and turned to head out.
“Wait,” your Ma said right when you were about to exit the front door with your backpack in tow. Thankfully she didn’t see you mouth a curse into the air with your back towards her. “Y’didn’t even get to touch your dinner. Will ya be back to finish it or should I wrap it up?”
“Nah. That’s ‘ight.” You declined. “I still got leftovers in the fridge for me and Benny from Rosie’s. Heat it up when I get home, but thanks Mama. Save it for yuh and Pa.”
“‘ight. Get’ome safe, Honey.” She called out. Safe. Safe. Benny didn’t get home safe, but he was safe now. Safe in the hospital that is, but was he really safe?
Your fingers gripped the doorhand, knuckles burning white as you took a breath to calm yourself. “I will, Mama. Love ya. Bye!” And then you were out the door, trying to keep your composure as long as you could, until you were out of eyeshot of your Ma and Pa’s. Your ballet flat feet banged against the pavement as you went on running down the rest, a sharp turn at the corner showing Cal by his bike, waiting and ready for you. A fresh cigarette between his lips, just ‘bout to be lit, long forgotten once his eyes landed on you.
It only took one look at him. One frown on those deep set features of his for you to be barrelling at him, strong arms encircling you in a hug.
“Oh Cal!” You cried into his tattered shirt, the dame of tears breaking out of you uncontrollably. Too uncontrollably. But you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. It was Cal after all. The brother you never had. The brother you should have had. The family you now had because of Benny. Because of Johnny. And it wasn’t that you didn’t love your parents — you loved and appreciated them of course, but you never felt fully accepted by them. So being in Cal’s arms was far more comforting than being in the arms of your parents because you could be yourself with Cal, without judgment.
“M’so sorry, Honey. So sorry.” He mumbled into your sun kissed up-do, smelling of fresh vanilla and honey scented soap.
You were crying so hard. Too hard. You’d become a total mess of hiccups and hard breathes. Of course, Cal accessed you accordingly, pulling you from his chest to take a good look at ya. And boy did your rosey cheeks and red rimmed glossy coated eyes destroy him. They really did. He hated seein’ you like this. All the guys did. They loved you far too much.
Cal’s warm calloused fingers circled the apples of your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks that resided. “It’s gonna be ‘ight. ‘erything gonna be okay.” He cooed, trying to calm you down. “Gotta stay strong for ‘im so he can get betta. Can’t take ya like this. It’ll break ‘im, Honey.”
“I — I know. I know.” You squeezed your eyes shut, wet lashes bowing down. You took a breath. Then another. And another until you felt somewhat better. More calm that is.
“Ready t’go?” Cal asked carefully when he noticed your breaths evening out.
“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding your head.
Cal helped you onto his bike and you clung onto him as you rode. The weight of his jacket felt oddly comforting in your hold. Even though the circumstances of such colors were alarming in such a time, it didn’t leave you on edge by any means. Before you knew it, you were pulling up in the West End. Cal parked his bike, leading you to the front desk and of course the receptionist looked at the two of you kind-of funny.
“Family only.” She said to Cal, immediately putting two-and-two together who he was here for before turning to you, a big smile gracing her features. “How can I help ya, Miss?”
Your emotions were all over the place. Anger bubbling up inside you in an instant, ready to burst at the assumption of such a thing. Sure, it was a common mistake. To be misplaced next to one of the guys in your floral knitted cardigan and patterned jeans to match. But now — now, of all times. It was your last straw.
“That’s ‘is wife. Uh — Honey Cross.” Cal motioned to you, explaining who you were before your rage could ensue.
“Hm — I don’t see a Honey here,” the receptionist said, amusement crossing her features. Clearly pleased by shooting Cal’s advances in an instant. “I’m going to need to see some ID.” She pushed, and you were already ripping off your backpack before she could even finish the sentence.
Cal’s hands materialized around the straps without a second thought, helping you out of the thing but also holding it up for you while you fished for your bedazzled wallet. It was in the deep depths of the thing, mushed around with all your work sheets and lesson plans for the week. You were always equipped and extra prepared, making your supposed trip to the Davis’s for his little girl not amiss one bit. Your cutesy keychain clipped to the end flung about as you finally uncovered it, whipping out your ID with ease. This wasn’t your first rodeo in such a situation, learning from the last time Benny was tossed in a jail cell to get your ID updated with your new last name as soon as humanly possible.
The receptionist looked between you, Benny’s paperwork, and your ID for longer than necessary. “Hmmm, okay. Second floor room twelve, Mrs. Cross.” She finally gave in. “But you’ll have to stay here, Mister.” She told Cal.
He raised his hands up in the air like he was bound to be incarcerated, and the sight almost got a laugh out of you. Almost. “Fine. I’ll be out front when y’ready, Honey.” He informed you, and you nodded.
He helped you put your things back together, and when he caught wind of your name etched into your ID, his eyes widened. “Huh? So that’s y’real name then.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, wedging the thing back into your wallet, snapping it close. And if you thought the receptionist was suspicious earlier, she was far more suspicious now.
His features scrunched up in an innocent way, that long earring of his shaking as he shook his head. “S’cute, but I can’t see ya as anything else but Honey. Be weird if I called y’anything else.”
“I get it,” the edge of your clip curled up in a faint smile then. Your first smile in what felt like ages. You couldn’t help it with Cal. It was hard not to smile around him. “Feels weird calling you Calvin, Caleb, or Calum or whatever. Which is it anyways?” You asked, brows furrowed in confusion at the thought as you zipped your bag closed.
“Don’t matter now.” He patted your shoulders once your backpack was shelled around you. “Time to go see y’man, anyways.”
Turning on your heel, you nodded when you faced him, thanking him profusely and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek as you gave him a tight hug. Once you let him go, you were off. Darting across the halls and climbing up the stairs, you weaved around the patients in their hospital beds being pushed by nurses and doctors in their lab coats until you made it to room twelve. For a moment, you stopped in your tracks, attempting a warm honey smile to grace your hubby with. To distract him from the evident pain he was having and the deep rooted distraught you felt inside.
But once you turned the corner, oh — you were a goner. There was Benny with a blue blooming zygoma, a swollen and bandaged eye, and his right foot propped up in a form fitted cast. Your heart shattered all over again without your control. Your hubby looked like a beat up puppy dog, and you couldn’t help but frown at the sight.
His blues — well his good one that is — caught your eye immediately. It was hard not to when you came waltzing in like that, all dolled up in a swarming buzz of color and sweet honey perfume. It wafted across the room and the smell touched his nose, warming him up for the first time since he’s been placed in this cold sterile room.
“Honey?” He blinked. Once. Twice. Wondering if your sweet face was an apparition. He told Cockroach not to tell you. Didn’t want you to see ‘im like this. Not until he was out and the brusin’ subsided at least, but he guessed Roach forgot to relay the message to Johnny and the rest of the guys when he told ‘em.
“Oh — my poor baby!” You cooed, racing across the room as soon as his gravelly voice hit your ears. You dotted on him in an instant. Fitting your form on the small empty space at the edge of the bed near his hip, you didn’t even bother pulling over the chair adjacent to his bed. And Benny didn’t mind no.
Even though he wasn’t too happy to see you here, he was happy to feel you here.
Your hand brushed through his hair and caressed the good side of his face, sweet and delicate. Benny couldn’t help but lean his cheek into your comforting touch. For the very first time you watched as a hot warm tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your hand.
“Please don’t let’em take my foot,” he begged, his large warm hands circling around both of yours and dropping them in his lap. “If — If they take my foot then I can’t ride again, and — and then how will I-I take y’to school?”
His sweep of emotions took you by surprise. You’d never seen him cry. Not when he was beaten and bruised in a bar fight. Not when a shard of glass wedged itself into his skin after punching through a car window. Not when you were applying alcohol to his cuts or when he was gettin’ stitches. No Benny never cried. And here he was now. Crying in front of you. In front of his wife. God, of course that just wrecked you.
Sure, maybe someone else would have made a stink. Would have told him that there were bigger things to worry about then his riding. But you wouldn’t do that — no. Besides you, ridin’ was Benny’s biggest passion. And both showed in the way he was most concerned about you. Concerned about taking care of you. How’d he do that if they took his foot and couldn’t take you to work every day. You couldn’t drive. Didn’t know how. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just never had the time to go get your driver’s license. Not between working at the local diner while you were studying and getting your degree. And now that you had it and Benny well — you had all that you really needed.
“I won’t let ‘em, baby. I promise. I promise.” You assured, pulling his strong hands up with yours and kissing each and every rough rimmed knuckle of his. “As for takin’ me to school. Don’t you worry about that. Took the bus before I met y’anyways. Doesn’t make a difference. I’ll do it until you’re better again, alright?”
But it did make a difference. It did to him. He adored those mornings and afternoons when he had you on the back of his bike, taking you to and from school. He especially loved it when you were still living with your Ma and Pa. It was the little things like that that not only got him through his day, but also made him feel like he was doing something good. Doing something good by you. Makin’ himself seem responsible enough to your parents for being on time and prompt, to marry you. And it worked after a while. He had you now as his wife. In the apartment you shared. In his home. In his bed. While that was all good and great, he couldn’t help but wonder if something like this would set them off.
He grimaced, the thoughts gnawing at him and makin’ him ask you, “do y’parents know?”
“No, no. They don’t. Think I’m at Johnny’s dropping off homework for his sick little girl. Think you’re at work. ‘Member I told ‘em you were working today so you didn’t have to come?” You reminded him.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to throw a little white lie around here and there to your parents about Benny. Sure, he was on good terms with them now thanks to Johnny. Thanks to the fact that their little girl had him as her husband, and they didn’t have too much of a choice. But, that didn’t mean things were perfect. Benny wasn’t much of a fan at the way they treated you from time to time. Especially when they made comments about your decisions. About the way you dressed. He thought you were perfect as is, and it boiled his blood whenever he heard them goin’ on and on about it, especially at Sunday dinners. So sometimes he just didn’t come. Sometimes you didn’t go either. But of course you did today cause you felt bad you hadn’t been in awhile and felt like you needed to see ‘em. They were your parents after all. Now you were regretting not going with him instead. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had never gone to your parents in the first place.
“Hm, right,” he sighed, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “How was it anyways? Did they give ya a hard time?”
“No. Not today,” you replied. “Didn’t have time to. Didn’t even get t’sit down. I should’ve been with y’anyways.”
“No y’shouldn’t of.” He shook his head in disagreement, and then revealed, “m’no good for ya, baby.”
“What?!” You gasped, absolutely baffled by what he was sayin’. “What you goin’ on about?” He hadn’t just really said that? Had he? He did! “S’not true. Not true at all.” Your cute little bee earrings shook as you moved your head back and forth in earnest. “You’re too good t’me —“ He bowed his head down in a silent no. “Far too good,” you repeated, trying to search his eye so he could see you. Really see that you meant every word you were sayin’. “Y’loyal to Johnny and the guys. To me.” You reminded him, but his gaze was still downwards, trained on your conjoined hands in his lap. You brushed your thumb back and forth against his skin. “Lemme ask you somethin’..” you began, “What did y’do when those guys came up to ya, huh?”
“Told ‘em they’d have to kill me to get my jacket off,” he revealed, his response making your lips curl up soundly. That was your Benny right there, your loyal Benny.
“And why’s that?” You asked, pushing on. Trying to get him to the root of his decision.
“Cause…” he shrugged, taking a moment to think about it. “It represents my family….represents you. Hell, I got your patches on it!” His voice was slowly rising in defense, in bits of anger. “Got your name sewed over my heart bigger than a goddamn weddin’ ring will ever be and those fuckers laughed about it!”
A full, bright toothed smile had your dimples peaked like two pretty mountains, and when Benny’s eyes finally found your sweet honey speckled ones — well his anger dissipated. “Ah, c’mere.”
“I don’t wanna crush y—“ you began, worrying about hurting him, but he cut you off immediately.
“C’mere,” he cooed, scooting over just a tad so you could lay next to ‘em. Of course you couldn’t say no to him. Could never ever. Not when he wanted y’so bad. “Need my girl.”
“Alright, alright,” you hummed, rolling your eyes playfully as you curled yourself next to ‘em. A comfortable silence landed over the two of you, one that you were thankful for after everything. After all the fuss of the day. You just wished you could be just like this with him at home in your own bed. His strong arm wrapped around your back, hand cupping your shoulder and you tilted your head onto his own. His lips found your forehead quickly, feeling more pillowy than usual from the impact on his face and your eyes fluttered at the contact. “Oh that reminds me. Did ya eat?”
“Huh?” He hummed confused.
“Did they feed y’here yet?” You tried again.
“Nah,” he replied.
“Fuckin’ hell. Got y’propped up, but can’t feed ya…” you shook your head in disappointment, and your concern for him over something so miniscule within the swarm of everything warmed his heart tenfold.
You moved to get up, but he stopped you short with his hand that was once on your shoulder now materializing on your waist. “Where y’going?” He pouted.
“Nowhere, baby.” You assured him, fingers curling under the good side of his chin so you could leave a soft kiss on his lips which he relaxed in as soon as it came. “Just grabbin’ my bag from the floor. Got some grub — well…” you trailed off, a laugh escaping you as you unzipped your bag and took out the tin your mother gave you. “I know it ain’t dinner, but I say dessert won’t hurt. Doctor’s orders, y’know?” You opened the tin to reveal the fresh honey buns your Mama made then, and God did Benny wanna just eat you up instead. “Y’want?”
He nodded, so you didn’t hesitate in passing one over to him. Both of you enjoyed the sweet treat. So much so, that when a crumb or two fell on your chest, Benny dived right in to access it — and well who were you to protest when his soft lips met your warm skin? When his lips continued their assault around your fingers, cleaning off the sugary residue that remained. And you were happy. So happy and giddy because you were with your Benny. You knew no matter what happened. No matter what came next, the two of you would be alright. Cause that was what marriage was all about, signing up for the good, the bad, and the ugly, being there for each other in sickness and in health.
And in that short hour or so that remained in visiting hours, before the nurse flagged you down to kick you out, you laughed and giggled more than you had in days, and even when you scolded him, warning that a nurse may catch him licking down your chest or sucking your fingers, a smile graced your sweet features the entire time and Benny ate up every single second soundly.
“I fuckin’ love ya, y’know that Mrs. Cross?” He said to you at some point, in the midst of everything.
“I fuckin’ love ya too, Mr. Cross. Always and forever.”
And always and forever it was.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
additional author’s note: AH I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. PWETTY PLZ DON’T BE MAD AT ME FOR JUMPING OUT OF ORDER. (with a cherry on top 🍒)
my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.
+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)
smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋
da bee hive 🐝
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
Note
Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.
I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?
Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333
Sincerely, :]
Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words
“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.” 
“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.” 
“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.” 
Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard. 
“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?” 
“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”
“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.” 
You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.” 
She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her. 
“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.” 
“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope. 
“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.” 
Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.” 
Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.
“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him. 
He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.” 
A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was. 
“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?” 
You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.” 
Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door. 
“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him. 
“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.” 
Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?” 
“Pizza,” he confirms. 
You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”
“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”
1K notes · View notes
darkeralmond · 7 months ago
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luke smut when you’re at the lake house and trying to keep quiet .. need all the dirty talk from this man 😭
THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST ILYSM ❤️❤️
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MORE THAN FRIENDS
Luke Hughes x fem! Reader
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synopsis: you and luke sneak off from your friends and have to stay quiet
warnings: 18+, smut, FWB, oral (f! receiving), protected sex, swearing
word count: 1.8k
a/n: hey guys!! i’ve started taking requests again since i have been so busy writing this fanfic w/ rutger. i rlly appreciate the support on my smitty smut and on my fanfic!! ily guys sm!! ❤️❤️
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Going to up to the Hughes’s lake house for a week in the summer was a yearly tradition ever since your guys’ first year at UMich. When Luke left for Jersey to play with his brother, Jack, on the Devils, he promised to keep the annual trip going.
u, your best friend, Ethan, and Mark were invited to come up for the week like always. “My parents nor brothers will be there, you guys gotta come!” he begged, so you packed your bags and drove up to the lake.
You and your best friend took one car while Ethan and Mark took the other. You were almost to the lake house when your friend turned down the radio and turned to face you. “Are you excited to see Luke again?” they asked.
Excited was an understatement. You and Luke were best friends growing up, but deep down there was more to it. It wasn’t until the sophomore right before he left for New Jersey you two started sleeping together. You kept it a secret as to not mess anything up with him, but casual sex turned into romantic feelings and attachment. When he left, reality set in that you and Luke would never happen.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen him in so long,” you answered while keeping your eyes on the road. “What about you? Are you excited?”
“Duh! I love going to the lake. Plus, I bought this new bathing suit that is perfect for the summer,” they said with a wide grin on their face. After a moment of silence, they spoke up again. “You think you’re gonna make a move on Luke?”
You never them about your situation-ship with Luke, so them asking about it caught you off guard. “What are you talking about?” You glanced over at them with a confused, slightly stunned, expression.
“Ethan thinks Luke has a crush on you, and from the look on your face I can tell you have one on him too,” they teased.
You rolled your eyes as an attempt to downplay it and get them off your back, but your face flushed with heat. “Luke just has chemistry like that with everyone.”
“Okay…” your best friend replied, obviously doubting your excuse.
The rest of the car ride was spent with you two listening to music until you finally made it to the beach house. When you arrived, you saw Mark’s car already parked in the driveway next to Luke’s, so you parked on the street.
You loudly honked your horn in order to get the boys’ attention from inside. Ethan was the first to come out of the house, rushing toward you with a wide smile on his face. “You made it!” he exclaimed when you both got out of the car.
Following behind him were Luke and Mark who were already wet and in their swim trunks. “Took you long enough,” Luke said as he came around the driver’s side and opened his arms. Even though he was dripping, you accepted the hug. You haven’t seen him in so long, you didn’t care about getting a little wet. “Missed you, Y/N.”
“I missed you too,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled away from his embrace and the temptation to kiss him was unbelievable. His wet hair, the fact he was wearing no shirt with a chain on, and the smell of his cologne. It was the perfect combination to rev up a girl.
Luke broke the awkward silence by saying, “So… you need me to help you bring your stuff in?”
“Uh, yeah! That would be nice.” You popped open the trunk and let the boys help carry in all the luggage. After setting everything downstairs, you turned to Luke and asked, “Am I gonna be in the same room as last time?”
The last time you were here, you and your best friend shared the room across from Luke’s. It was fun sharing with them, but sneaking into Luke’s room to talk to him was a pain.
“I actually thought you could room with me,” Luke said as he grabbed your suitcase. You looked up at him with a shocked, yet intrigued expression. “Come on. You have a lot of unpacking to do.”
The sun began to set behind the horizon. Luke had gone inside a while ago, and you felt the urge to see him. “I’m gonna head in for the night,” you say before swimming to the surface.
You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around yourself while saying good night to the others. You came in through the back door and made your way to the kitchen to get a bottle of water before heading up to your room.
When you entered, you saw Luke sitting on the counter with a cup of soda next to him. “Hey,” he said when he acknowledged you.
“Hi,” you smile back. You grabbed the water from the fridge. “Mind if I sit?”
“Sure,” he answered. You laid the towel down on the counter and hauled yourself up. “Have you had fun so far?” he asked as he grabbed his cup and took a sip.
“Yeah, I’m having a nice time.” You inch closer to him until your thighs are touching. “I’m pretty sure they’re all gonna be out there for another hour if you want to… you know?”
A mischievous grin formed on Luke’s face as he looked in the direction of the back door. “You still have to be quiet just in case. You do get really loud,” he joked. You let out a fake offended gasp in response.
He grabbed your hand and helped you off the counter before leading you up to your shared room. He shut and lock the door before pulling you into a kiss.
His lips were soft and sweet against yours. Your hands moved to caress his chest, feeling his muscles underneath your palms.
Your lips parted slightly, and he licked at your bottom lip before sucking it softly in between his teeth. Luke pulled the string of your bikini top undone to expose more skin before moving his lips down to your neck.
His hands traveled downwards along your sides, stopping at your waist. “Luke,” you breathed as he grazed his fingers against the hem of your bikini bottoms.
“May I?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in invitation.
“Mhm, yeah,” you nodded as he slid them down your legs. He scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down on the mattress as his lips met yours once again.
He kissed you deeply, making love to your mouth. One of his hands slid up your thigh as his fingers continued tracing small circles on your skin. Your breathing became heavy as your core pulsed.
His kisses trailed down your bare body and landed on your chest. He gently sucked one of your nipples, rolling the other with his fingers gently. You let out a shaky exhale as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, I missed you so much, babe,” Luke murmured against your skin as he peppered your body with kisses. Times like this when he called you “babe” or “love” messed with your perception of what you two are.
For a moment, it feels like intimate and as if he adores you the same way you do him. Then it ends and you’re forced to keep it a secret from everyone else.
He spread your legs open and kissed your inner thighs before gently sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he secured your legs with his arms. “Fuck, Luke, just like that,” you whimpered.
He ran his tongue along your folds before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue again. You let a loud moan slip as pleasure hit your body. “You need to quiet down. Don’t get too worked up over me,” he teased. “I want to fuck you so bad, Y/N.”
“Please Luke,” you begged, “I need you inside me. Please…” your voice was barely a whisper.
He immediately got up before you could finish and made his way over to his dresser where he stored condoms. He pulled out a packet and eagerly ripped it open before pulling down his swim shorts and rolled the rubber over his erection. “I’m ready when you are, my love,” he said huskily as he pulled your body closer to him.
“I’m ready,” you confirm. With that, he positioned himself before slowly inching his way in. You let out a loud wince and dug your nails into the comforter below you. You bit your bottom lip hard in order to prevent any noise that dared to come out of you.
His thrusts began slow and gentle until you adjusted comfortably. Luke started pounding into you roughly, causing you to squirm under him. “You feel so good, baby!” he groaned. “This is why I can never keep my hands off you, Y/N.”
You’ve learned to ignore comments like this since you knew Luke was only saying them in the heat of the moment. “Oh god, oh God,” you cried as your body convulsed beneath him. You could feel as the climax ripped through your body. “Luke! Fuck, Luke!”
You writhed around in delight. You could feel every nerve ending tingle throughout your body. A rush of adrenaline flooded your system making you tremble. Luke wasn’t finished though, and he wouldn’t be until he came.
Luke gripped your waist tightly in response to your excitement before increasing his thrusts faster as his release grew ever closer. You could hear him panting heavily, his hands shaking around your waist. His movements became erratic as he let out choked moans until he finally came, twitching as he did so.
Once his release subsided, Luke pulled out and disposed of the condom. When he came back into the bedroom, he laid on your chest and closed his eyes. You played with his curls as he tried to calm his breathing.
“Y/N?” Luke whispered with his head still laying on your chest.
“Yes, Luke?” you whispered back, now running your fingers along the nape of his neck. You could feel his muscles trembling underneath you. It made you feel a little concerned about him.
“I don’t want you to think I’m only using you for sex.” His words spilled out quickly. “But I really like you,” he paused to take a breath. “You don’t have to answer me now, but do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You were taken aback by his bluntness. He thought that it was too soon to ask you out after fucking for the first time in months. You acknowledged that you couldn’t lie about your feelings. Not anymore.
“Of course I do,” you smiled as you looked into his soft brown eyes. Luke gave you an ecstatic grin before pressing a quick peck to your lips.
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borathae · 1 year ago
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"You wake up in Jungkook's bed after a passionate night together."
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, domestic Fluff, hinted Smut
Warnings: casual nudity, Kookie shows off his muscles, he is a giggly cutie who just wants to be praised, they talk about last night's sex, she kisses his abs, he is so in love with her :(
Wordcount: 2k
a/n: i wanna give him the world. he is my babyboy :( also, i don't gotta mention by which live this was inspired. y'all KNOW fjadjfa. enjoy besties, i fucking love him 🤍
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Something is tickling your face. Gently. Nicely. Warm. It feels warm. Fingers. You can make out the paths they draw. Over your forehead, tracing your brows, down your temples, along your cheeks and up your nose until the faintest touch feels up your closed eyelids. 
You know where you are. Jungkook’s wing. You stayed with him after the two of you went on a lovely movie date in town, followed by karaoke in his living room till late into the night. 
You had sex too. It was good sex. Amazing sex even. He made you see not only stars, but the entire galaxy. And in return you made him arch his back and whimper your name. It was amazing. It really, really was.
You still feel the afterglow of it. It became stronger again now that you are awake and actively take him in.
His soft scent lingers on the sheets and the warmth of his touch feels heavenly. You can’t stop your lips from curling into a sleepy smile. Quite frankly, you didn’t even try to stop them. Perhaps you even encouraged them to do so. 
“Mhm good morning. That feels amazing”, you mumble. 
“Good morning, my honey”, he answers you and cups your cheek to run his thumb along the tender skin under your eye. Once. Twice. 
Then you open your eyes to look at him. 
His face scrunches up into a giddy smile instantly. It starts off with his eyes before the rest of his face follows. You love the way he smiles. It is so precious and adorable that he always starts off with his eyes before anything else shows his happiness. It fits him so well. 
You retort his smile, feeling it grow when he scoots closer to press a kiss to your forehead. 
“I hope I didn’t wake you. I’ve been awake for a little and I tried not to touch you, but you’re so pretty when you sleep”, he says, making your heart flutter. 
He scoots back again and touches your ear to massage it softly. 
“You didn’t wake me”, you assure him, tingling at the touch. 
“That’s good to hear. I hope you don’t mind that I looked at you”, he says and giggles, “I’m sorry, I just think that you’re so pretty.”
“I don’t mind”, you say and reach out to caress his naked chest, “you’re so cute, my honey.”
“Thank you, yeah”, he says and giggles. He is so cute when he is so happy. You hope that he never stops giggling. He shimmies back just enough that you can look at him comfortably. He gathers a bundle of his blanket and uses it to rest his chin on it. Like this, you have perfect view of his sculpted arms and tattoos. He didn’t bother to put on clothes last night and neither did you. He kept snuggling up to you throughout the night and whenever you noticed it, you felt yourself tingle. His skin felt like paradise against yours. It really did.
His eyes gaze at you with sparkles in them. 
“How did you sleep?” he asks. 
“Really well. Your bed’s so comfy.”
“Yeah? That’s good to hear”, he says and giggles once again. 
“And you?”
“I slept well too, yeah. I dreamed of you.”
“You did?” 
“Mh-hm. I dreamed of last night. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about it”, he giggles again, giving you the prettiest eye smile ever, “I think we had a really amazing date. I loved it a lot.”
“I loved it too”, you answer him and touch his arm to squeeze it lovingly, “you’re so cute.”
“Heh”, he lets out and blushes, “and I think that the sex was amazing”, he sounds shy all of a sudden, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
You smile and agree with a nod of your head, “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”
“Do your knees still hurt?” he makes sure. You finished him off by riding him and you went at it with such passion that your knees ached afterwards.
“No, they don’t. I told you, they were just tired.”
“You did it so hard”, he says and giggles with his nose scrunching up. He snuggles the blanket, even going so far as to rub his cheek against it, “I couldn’t stop moaning.”
“I couldn’t tell at all”, you joke and snicker.
He snickers as well, nodding his head, “I know, I was so loud. I can’t help it because you’re so, so good.”
“Don’t apologise. I’m the same when you touch me.”
“Yeah, I know”, he says, glancing down at your body just once, “you sounded really sexy. I think.”
“Thank you, baby. You sounded really sexy too.”
“Yeah, I liked it”, he says, “I’ve been able to make love to you without danger for such a long time already, but I still feel so excited by it. So it always feels epic and, and”, he stops himself, glancing at you shyly, “I hope I’m not annoying you with this already.”
“Kookie, come on”, you say sternly and nudge his chest, “don’t you dare say that. I feel as excited as you do, sweets. You deserve to feel this way.”
“Thank you. It means a lot that you share those feelings with me.”
“Of course, baby. I mean it.”
He smiles and reaches out to touch your face. Your cheek, your brow and temple until he ends it with a soft brush over your lips. And as he makes sure that your face is actually as beautiful as he thinks it is, his sparkly eyes race over your features without wanting to stop. They finally land on your lips and the way they look so pretty in the morning lights.
“I uhm”, he begins and lets out a shy giggle, meeting your gaze. You retort the chuckle, caressing the inside of his wrist.
“Mhm?”
“I think you’re beautiful”, he says, making your heart flutter.
“Thank you so much”, you whisper giddily, “you’re beautiful too.”
“Thank you”, he says and sits up just a little, “hey ___? I was thinking”, he begins.
“What were you thinking?” you ask him, expecting the most profound revelation ever.
“My arms look really strong today. What do you think?” he says, showing off by flexing his arm. His muscles tense and bulge, capturing your attention. 
You stifle a snicker. You did not expect for the conversation to go this way. He is such a wonderful person.
“Look at this”, he points at the most sculpted parts, “can you see the lines there and, and how big it looks there?”
“I can”, you tell him, melting in fondness. He is so adorable when he shows off because you know for a fact that he believes that this is the most impressive thing he could do. Not being loving and gentle, neither being the best listener and sweetest person ever. No, in his eyes showing off his muscles is the most impressive thing about him. Which, don’t misunderstand, is very impressive, but it is still very adorable as well because of how randomly he decided to do it. 
“Can you see how strong I am?” he asks, flexing even harder. 
“I can”, you reach out and touch his arm. It is rockhard, “wow, Kookie your muscles are so hard.”
“Right? It’s because I’m so strong”, he says.
“Mhm, of course you are. You’re such a strong man, this is so impressive”, you praise him, squeezing his arm gently, “wow, so strong.”
“Yeah, right?” he agrees and then sticks his head under the blanket for a second. You watch him with fondness bubbling in your tummy, “and check this out”, he says, reappearing again and tugging the blanket down his torso just enough that the first hint of his pubes gets revealed. He is resting on his back, propped up on his elbow and with his abs flexed. He runs his fingers down the lines of them, “look.”
You roll to your tummy and prop yourself up on your elbows. Like this, you could easily rest your chin on his stomach if you wanted to.
“Wow Kookie, your abs looks so strong”, you gasp.
“Right? It’s because I used them so much last night”, he says, making your chest flutter. He wasn’t lying. He did use them a lot as he was making you see galaxies.
“Mhm of course you did”, you say, “can I touch?”
“Of course.”
You reach out and trace his muscles with your fingertips. Jungkook watches you with his breathing just a little quickened. Goosebumps cover his skin wherever you touch. You finish your explorations by shimmying closer and draping your arm over his lap just so you can lower your lips to his stomach and kiss it.
Jungkook gasps when that happens, shivering like crazy. You nuzzle your nose into his faint happy trail and inhale his scent. He smells like warm nights, good sex and clean skin. It’s addictive, really, and for just a short moment you play with the desire to lick him until he shivers.
You lift your head, meeting his droopy gaze.
“My strong man”, you say, flashing him a loving grin.
Jungkook breaks into a fit of happy giggles, picking you up in his strong arms to hug you against his chest. 
“Thank you ___, I’m your strong man”, he says, wiggling you from side to side. 
“Yes you are”, you tell him, snaking your arm around his waist, “I feel very safe in your arms.”
“Wow really?” he gasps and giggles, “wow, thank you. This means so much to me.”
He lies down with you in his arms, which results in your finding your new resting spot sprawled halfway on top of him and with your face buried in the crook of his neck. You grunt at the impact, before a fond chuckle shakes your shoulders.
“Careful”, you tell him.
“I’m sorry”, he slips his arms from you, “did I hurt you?”
“No, you just surprised me. That’s all”, you say, climbing on top of him and sitting down on his lap. Just below his dick and with your hands feeling up his pecs. Like this, the blanket covers you until your hips while the rest of your body was exposed to the cool air. Goosebumps cover your skin instantly, but Jungkook touches don’t allow your body to feel cold. He runs his hands all over your body, leaving out the most intimate spots for respect reasons and massaging the parts which he thinks are so incredibly soft.
“My strong man, mhm?” you say.
He nods his head vigorously, pressing out a shaky, “yeah.” He is just so excited to be with you and to be your strong man! He is your man! That’s awesome!
You run your hands to his shoulders before placing them in the pillow beside his head. Like this, you can look down at his pretty face while Jungkook feels up your back and the beginning of your buttocks.
“Should we check out this café we passed last night?”
You drove by a café on your way to the cinema yesterday. Back then, it had already closed for the day, but it promised fresh breakfast everyday in the café window. You talked about going there one day and trying out the menu.
“I love this idea”, he says, “I’m really hungry already”, he tells you and adds a quick, “not that kind of hungry though, don’t worry.”
You laugh, “I wasn’t thinking that”, you assure him, pecking his lips. 
Jungkook hums and hooks his arms behind your head. With one expert movement, he has your positions flipped, kissing your lips as happy purrs rumble in his chest.
“Kookie, wait”, you giggle, fighting him off with minimal effort, “the breakfast.”
“You shouldn’t have kissed me then”, he mumbles, chasing your kiss.
“It was a peck, you’re the one deepening it”, you complain with a racing heart.
“Mhm no”, he answers you, making you laugh.
“Come on, baby”, you snicker, turning your head so he is kissing your cheek instead.
“Hmpf fine”, he huffs out air, rubbing his nose against you slowly, “first shower, then breakfast, then I’ll buy you flowers and then I’ll show you what kissing me all naked gets you.”
“Sounds like a deal”, you say, feeling oh so giddy that you could burst.
2K notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 27 days ago
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Ain't No Sense In Closing The Gate
Tyler Owens x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Angst
Author's Note: My mom made me watch Twisters and all I know is that I want to bang Glen Powell like a door in a tornado. Enjoy.
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She sat at the bar, nursing the glass of brandy that seemed to mock her with every swirl of amber. Laughter and conversation flowed behind her, but she sat with her back to it, more focused on the lull of liquid. She tugged her hat down lower over her furrowed brows, a stemming anger and yearning ache in her chest that seemed to rise like bile in her throat every time she heard his laughter echo from the pool table. She’d been so stupid. So foolish to spend all this time chasing him when he’d never even noticed, hell, she hadn’t even noticed until he’d found greener pastures.
“Can I sit with you?”
She looked up, barely managing to suppress the scowl when she saw Kate standing there.
“Yeah,” she muttered, gesturing vaguely to the stool beside her, and watched as Kate sat down and ordered a gin and tonic.
They sat in silence for a few moments, neither really wanting to engage with each other until Kate cleared her throat and admitted, “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”
“It’s not for a lack of trying,” she replied, taking a sip of her brandy, then sat her drink down. “I don’t like you,” she added. “But not for the reasons you think I do.”
Kate’s brows furrowed. “Did I do something to you that made you not like me?”
“No.”
“…then why?”
Laughter peeled from the pool table and they both looked over, watching as Tyler put Boone in a headlock and noogied him. It suddenly hit Kate at that moment and she looked down at the bar.
“Oh…” was all she murmured.
It made her blood boil.
“Don’t do that shit,” she scowled. “God, it’s so fucking annoying when—just,” she inhaled and exhaled. “It’s fine. He deserves to be happy. You both do.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Kate,” she interrupted and looked at her beneath that big Texas brim. “I’ve spent my entire life chasing Tyler Owen’s heart. I’ve done everything I ever thought would make him look at me the way it took you literal days to make him look at you.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t hate you. But I can’t say I’m fond of you either.”
Kate pursed her lips and nodded. “For what it’s worth…I think the two of you would be beautiful together.”
“Thanks,” she muttered with a sardonic smile. “But I’d rather him be with you.”
“Why?” she asked. “I thought…”
“I do, but I also recognize when a man’s heart is truly set on something. And…” she looked at Kate, really looked at her, the way her eyes were gentle, nothing like her own, hardened from years of chasing storms and steering cattle. “He needs a woman like you.” She sipped her brandy again. “I know when a horse needs to run. Ain’t no reason in closing the gate.”
Kate felt her own heart ache for the woman’s heartbreak. “I don’t know if it makes a difference, but I would like to be friends with you.” She didn’t let the woman’s arched brow and seemingly look of disgust deter her. “You’re amazing. And gorgeous. And funny, and—”
“Careful, Kate,” she murmured. “Making me think you’re into me too.”
Kate’s laughter bubbled from her without realizing it as her cheeks dusted pink.
She smiled tightly. “Keep him in line, yeah?” she asked, sliding a twenty on the bar before she downed the rest of her brandy and stood from the bar.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Kate replied, turning on the stool. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Nah,” she said. “I’ve gotta go home.”
Kate’s expression saddened. “I don’t want you to leave because of me,” she expressed. “Really, I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not,” she answered. “But…I’m getting to old to be chasing storms, men…” she reached out and placed a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Sometimes, it’s best to listen when home is calling.”
As she pulled away, Kate hurriedly reached out and took her hand. “Will you ever come back?” she tried for a hopeful smile. “We’ll…we’ll all miss you.”
She nodded. “Maybe a visit or two in a few years, yeah?”
Kate nodded and let her hand go, watching as she weaved through the patrons of the bar, not stopping to say goodbye to the others as she disappeared through the wooden doors and into the parking lot.
***
She re-adjusted the duffel bag in the back of her black Dodge, setting it snugly behind her seat before she pushed the front back, dropped her hat in the driver’s seat, and stood straight. Her eyes drifted up to the stars above in the Oklahoma sky. It was practically the same clear view she saw back South, no clouds, no pollution, just bright stars blinking back at her.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?”
His voice startled her and she jumped a bit as she looked back, watching Tyler walk over to her.
“Road’s long to the mountains,” she said, tugging on the Carhart sweatshirt over her head.
Tyler smiled at her. “That it is. Ten hours, right?”
She looked at him. “What do you want, Tyler?”
His gaze turned solemn and he stepped up to her. “You’re leaving because of me.”
“Now that’s the most egotistical BS I’ve ever heard you say,” she laughed. “And I’ve heard you be egotistical before.”
“Pretty girl,” he started lowly, and she felt her insides melt before she inhaled sharply.
“Tyler, stop.”
“No, I want—”
“It doesn’t matter, okay,” she said. “It’s okay.”
He frowned, feet shifting in the dirt of the parking lot. “I didn’t know.”
“You did,” she replied. “You just…wished you didn’t.”
His gaze met hers. “I never meant to hurt you, pretty girl.” He reached up, knuckles gently grazing her cheek and she knew in her heart this was the only love she’d ever get from the man in the way she wanted.
She blinked furiously at the tears in her eyes and, unable to stop herself, leaned into his touch. “I know,” she whispered, throat tight with unspoken affection and desire.
Tyler took another step towards her, cupping her cheek in his hand.
“Tyler,” she stressed and he let out a low hum deep in his throat as he brushed his nose against hers.
“Let me,” he whispered in that smooth drawl. “Let me make it better.”
“Please, don’t,” she begged. “Tyler, please,” tears dampened her lashes. “Don’t do this to me.” She felt his lips almost brush against hers. “Tyler, I’m not…I won’t be strong enough to let go if you do.”
His jaw tightened, muscle twitching as he pressed his forehead into hers, and exhaled slowly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay, pretty girl.” He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his own a mix of regret and pain. “Text me when you get home?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, every fiber in her screaming as she pulled herself away from him. “I will.”
He watched as she climbed into her truck, the window rolled down and he stepped up to it. “Will you ever come back?” he smiled sadly. “Awfully lonely without you chasing with us.”
With me.
Her eyes met his once more as she roared the engine to life. “So long, cowboy,” she mused and rolled the window up, leaving him in a whirl of dust.
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hqbaby · 8 months ago
Text
thirteen — respectfully, fuck off
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.4k content. profanity, mentions of injury, reader’s family is fucked up, violent confrontation (stops before it escalates but mentioning it jic)
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“Do you wanna get married someday?”
It was past midnight and you and Satoru were in your room, lying on your bed, talking about everything and nothing at all. Your head was resting on his bare chest, one of his hands holding you to him by your waist and the other twirling a strand of your hair. It was a quiet moment, the good kind, and you didn’t want it to end.
You lifted your head and looked at him, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes as he peered at you, a relaxed expression painting his features. “You wanna marry me?”
“‘Course,” he said without hesitation. He squeezed your waist and smiled. “What about you? Wanna marry me?”
You tilted your head to the side and hummed, pretending to consider your answer very carefully. “I don’t know,” you told him. “Would you sign a prenup?”
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head, pulling you over to straddle him. “I’d do anything for you,” he told you as he leaned up until your noses touched. “So, what do you say? After graduation?”
You nuzzled your nose against his, hovering over his lying form. “You gotta get a job first,” you said. “How else could you afford a ring?”
“Right, right,” Satoru whispered, his gaze drifting towards your lips. “What kind of ring do you want? Diamond? Sapphire? What about emerald?”
You ran a hand through his hair and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Any ring would do.”
His smile grew wider, his grin all toothy and boyish. “You’re an easy girl to please,” he said as he cupped your cheek. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you said back, smiling now too.
“I really love you, do you know that?”
You scrunched your nose. “I might’ve had an inkling.”
“Just an inkling?” he asked, hands coming to grip your thighs. He clicked his tongue. “Now. that won’t do.”
You laughed. “You’re such a dork,” you told him.
“Well, you love this dork.”
You nodded, letting your lips hover over his, the promise of a kiss just waiting to be fulfilled. “I do,” you told him. “I really do.”
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“Aika’s down.”
You look up from the place on the ground where you’ve been stretching. Yuki walks over to the team with a disappointed look on her face, her phone dangling from her hand.
Mai, who’s sitting on the bench beside you, is the first to ask. “What happened, coach?”
Yuki sighs. “Busted her ACL.”
There’s a resounding chorus of winces and “fuck”s. There’s also a silently shared consensus of “thank god it wasn’t me.” It’s selfish, you all know that, but someone else’s injury is always just another bullet dodged for you.
“On the bright side, the doctors say she can make a full recovery,” Yuki tells you. “But that’ll take a while and it’ll leave us with an empty spot in singles.”
“Mika’s coming back, isn’t she?” you ask. “Her exchange program’s ending soon.”
Mai shakes her head. “Not soon enough,” she says. “We have our first real tournament a week after she comes back. She won’t have enough time to train.”
You turn to Yuki. “So what are we gonna do?”
She just grins. “You mean what are you gonna do?”
“What?”
“You’re playing singles.”
“What?”
“You played in high school, right?” Mai asks, prodding you with her foot to get your attention. “You’re probably our best shot right now.”
You let out a nervous laugh as everyone’s eyes fall on you. “I don’t know, guys,” you say. “I mean, you all saw me trip last time. I’ve been off my game.”
But Yuki’s already decided. She shrugs and places her phone in her pocket. “Then we lose,” she says, looking at you sternly, “and it’ll be your fault. So I suggest you bring your A game for the sake of the team.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the eyes that now rest of you, waiting for your oh-so-predictable answer. “Yes, coach.”
She nods and waves everyone off. “Get some rest, everyone,” she says. “You’ll need it.”
Everyone disperses, girls coming to pat you back and wish you luck. You know what they’re all thinking as their hands touch your skin. Thank god it wasn’t me.
“You’re so fucked,” Mai laughs once everyone has gone and you go to gather your things.
You shove her and roll your eyes. “Thanks for really backing me up there, partner,” you tell her, sarcasm dripping through your words. “‘You played in high school, right?’” you say as you attempt to mock her voice. “Such an ass.”
She wraps her arm around your shoulders and presses her head against yours. “You’ll be fine,” she says as she leads you to the locker room. “Besides, it’ll only be one tournament. The new girls are coming after the break too, so we’ll be just fine.”
You groan. “I hate you.”
“Whatever you say, partner.” She chuckles, leading you through the door. “You need a shower. You fucking stink.”
You push her head before sprinting forward. “I call the good shower!”
“Hey! You can’t do that!”
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You sit in your car, engine off, window down as you stare at your phone. As soon as you left the sports complex, you found yourself overcome by a single thought: Sukuna.
The two of you haven’t spoken since you last saw each other. Since you… kissed. Granted, it’s only been a few days, but for the two of you, it feels like a lifetime. You don’t remember the last time you went this long without at least sending him a silly video or receiving a paragraph-long update from him describing a massive shit he’d just taken.
But even as you stare at your chat with him, you can’t bring yourself to send him anything.
You haven’t told anyone about the kiss. Not Maki, not Nobara, not even Kento, no matter how much you wanted to annoy him with random information about your life. For some reason, you can’t seem to let the thought slip through your lips, can’t even vocalize the fact that it happened. And that you don’t know why it’s bothering you so much. And that you don’t know why you’ve been plagued by the desire to have it happen again.
You tuck your phone back into your pocket and shake your head. It’ll work itself out, you think. Things between you and Sukuna always do anyway.
With a sigh, you turn your car on and drive back to your apartment.
As you park your car, you wonder if the elevator in your building—after a good few days of being out of service—has finally been repaired or if you need to climb up the three flights of stairs with your tired legs. The prospect of walking more than a few feet isn’t appealing at all.
You grab your bags from the backseat and get out of your car, following the familiar steps from the parking lot to the elevator.
And that’s when you see him.
You find that you can’t move. You can’t leave, you can’t run, you can’t hide. You just stand there, frozen, in complete and utter shock. How did he even know where to find you?
“Dad?”
The word feels foreign on your tongue, worn out of your vocabulary from disuse.
He stands before you with a smile, holding his arms out in the prospect of an embrace. “Sweetheart,” he says, the pet name passing through his tongue coated in sickly sweet honey. “It’s been too long.”
He leans forward to hug you, but you manage to step back, avoiding his touch. He frowns at that and lowers his arms. “You don’t look happy to see me.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t see my daughter now?” he asks, eyes narrowing. “Is that how it is between us?”
Your eyes shift away from him. “What are you doing here?” you ask again, quieter this time.
“I just wanted to see you,” he tells you in the most earnest tone a liar can muster. “And I wanted to tell you the good news.”
You scoff. Not once in your life has your father ever had good news for you. “The good news?”
He clasps his hands together and nods. “You have a baby brother.”
“What?” You gape at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Hisako gave birth,” he tells you happily. “Just a few weeks ago.”
“Hisako,” you repeat slowly, trying to place the name. Your eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” you say softly. “Is she the new one?”
He tuts. “Don’t call her that.”
You’re not quite sure what he expects from you at this point. Your father who, at nine, you learned had been habitually sleeping with women who were not your mother. Your father who, despite his penchant for infidelity, your mother could never quite bring herself to leave. Your father who, just a few months ago, you learned had gotten his most recent mistress pregnant and who decided it was only right to treat the whole thing like it was normal, like it was expected.
As he starts to talk about your new brother, your hand slips to your phone. It’s almost an instinct, pressing his name in your contacts. Second nature, searching for him when things are going wrong.
You don’t even have to look at your phone to know that Sukuna’s already answered your call, that he can hear every single part of this ludicrous conversation you’re having with the man who expects more than you will ever want to give him.
Just as you start to think that things can’t get any worse, your father drops the bomb. The real reason why he’s here in the first place.
“I want you to come home.”
You blink at him. “You want me to do what?”
“Come home,” he tells you. “Your mother can’t stand the baby and Hisako’s not exactly good at the whole child-rearing thing.”
“You want me to come home and leave college to take care of your kid?” you ask in disbelief. The anger hits you before you even realize it. “Do you know how fucking insane you sound?”
Your father doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like it at all. His lips twist into a snarl as he steps closer to you, grabbing your wrist when you try to back up.
“Don’t ever speak to me like that again,” he seethes. “You will come home because I’m telling you to. I have no idea how you got it in your head that you could just leave your family the way you did, but I’ve indulged your childish fantasies for long enough.”
You struggle against him, panic settling in as his grip on you tightens. “Dad—”
“You’re just like your mother, you know?” he says, venom coursing through his words. “Always so fucking stubborn.”
You look down at your wrist as it gets crushed in his hold. “You’re hurting me,” you say. “Please. Stop.”
“So stubborn, so—”
You barely even catch it, the moment that flashes between your father nearly breaking your wrist and him being pushed away. It’s a blur, really. It happens so quickly, so quietly, you have to wonder if it’s even happened at all.
“Respectfully, sir, back the fuck off.”
You look at the man standing in front of you, his back a sight you might even know better than that of your own hand.
“Leave,” Sukuna spits out before your father can even say a word. Even turned away from you, he keeps a protective hand on your shoulder. He squeezes as if to say, It’s okay. I got this.
Your father glares. “You,” he says. “You’re the brat who ruined my daughter. She was so good before she met you. Now she’s fucked in the head.”
“Is that why she’s been doing so great without you?” Sukuna shoots back. You can tell through his voice that he’s holding back. Your best friend’s never been one to shy away from violence, he’s only restraining himself for your sake. You may not love the man, but he is still your father, and Sukuna knows that means something to you.
“Leave,” Sukuna tells your father. “I won’t say it again.”
Your father snickers, looking past Sukuna at you. “I always figured you’d never survive on your own,” he says. “Just like your mother.”
“Sir, if you don’t fucking—”
“I’m leaving, brat,” your father tells your friend, backing up. “You can fucking have her.”
It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds you can hear are your father’s footsteps retreating, disappearing. You and Sukuna stay in your places, motionless until the footsteps fade away completely.
You sniffle once and Sukuna is already turning and holding you to his chest, shushing you as you wipe tears from your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Can I see your wrist?”
Carefully, you lift your arm and his hands come to cradle yours as he studies your skin, grimaces at the light bruises that are starting to form in the spot that your father held.
“Did he do anything else?” he asks gently.
You shake your head. “I’m sorry for calling you.”
“What? Fuck no.” He places a finger beneath your chin and guides you to look at him. “Don’t ever apologize for that. None of this is your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have left,” you tell him. “I should’ve stayed with my mom. She has to live with that asshole every day of her life.”
His eyes soften at that. Always putting everyone else before you. “She’s okay,” he says. “And you tried to get her to leave. She was the one who wouldn’t listen.”
He can tell from the look on your face that his answer doesn’t sate you, isn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but he can also tell that you know it’s the truth. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You learned that lesson long ago.
“I’m sorry,” you say again and you already know Sukuna’s about to scold you for it, so you press a finger to his lips before he does. “For avoiding you these past few days. I wasn’t being fair.”
He cracks a smile and behind your finger says, “I was avoiding you too. I’m sorry.”
You pull your finger away and bury your face in his chest for a moment, breathing in the scent of his detergent, the brand you helped him pick out in freshman year that he’s used ever since. “You wanna come upstairs?”
“I wasn’t gonna leave you even if you asked,” he says, eyes crinkling as he grins.
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notes. this chapter is A LOT but we’re really getting deeper into reader’s background and ofc sukuna saving the day is 🥵 anyway just wanted to mention that i really enjoy reading your comments and asks, i don’t get to reply to everything but i see it all and ily babes <3 glad you’re enjoying this series because i’m having so much fun writing it
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separatetheyolk · 2 months ago
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hey so i kinda stalked your account after ur intro stumbled onto my feed....if you're taking requests right now could you write something for one of the papaya boys with trans!driver!reader? I'm not picky in terms of plot <33
also i lovelovelove your writing
Feel Better In Your Skin | Lando Norris X Trans!Driver!Reader
ʚɞ featuring: Lando Norris
Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz (platonic )
ʚɞ it’s winter break, you’ve just gotten your top surgery and it’s up to Lando to take care of you
ʚɞ I got you!! I’m glad you’re liking my writing so far aha I’ve written on different platforms like ao3 before but I found that wasn’t really tailored to “__ x readers” as well as “__ x __” so here I am.
I read the ask wrong at first lol and started writing trans Lando so ended up having to change that all half way through. I wasn’t sure if you were wanting more focus for like paddock stuff so if you do just lmk I’d be happy to write another with more focus on that or just a part 2 to this one
Anyway hope you enjoy this one too!
ʚɞ warnings: mentions of dried blood and incisions obviously, very brief mention high from pain meds, surgery mentioned obvs, y/n used, not proofread
ʚɞ wordcount: 2.4K
ʚɞ requests are open!
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Lando heard you groan as he helped the you into bed. Carefully lying you down, setting a pregnancy pillow under you arms and tucked you in. “Arms in or out, baby?” He asked softly, hand running through your hair, brushing it away from your forehead.
You couldn’t stop the whine that slipped past chapped lips. Still a smidge high on the pain killers they’d given before you’d been discharged from your double mastectomy. “Messin’ up my hair..” you grumbled, pout set on your face. “Out please.” You answered Lando after a moment of realisation that he’d asked you a question.
Nodding softly with a small chuckle, he set the blanket under your arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything you need, handsome?” The man spoke, moving to carefully sit beside you on his empty side of the bed. Lando would be taking the sofa in the main room of your B&B while you slept, not wanting to hurt his boyfriend anymore than he’d already been. You had tried to insist the day before surgery that you’d take it. He insisted that you rest in a comfortable setting.
You hummed slightly when you felt a soft hand rest on your cheek, turning into the palm and closed your eyes. Heat warming the skin that had been nipped by a winter breeze. Having traveled from Monaco back to the UK for your surgery. Lando knew you’d had you heart set on a particular surgeon since you were eighteen. And now, at twenty three he’d managed pay to get you surgery putting you on his last ever waiting list just before the surgeon was to go into retirement. He’d given you the news as a birthday present. Of which you were immensely grateful for.
He hadn’t been too keen on the idea of flying back with you after quite an invasive surgery. But he knew this was your body. You’d have to live with the scars. And Lando wanted nothing more than for you to feel confident. For once in your life feel confident in who you were. In your skin. Wear clothes you wanted to wear when you wanted them. Not in accordance of whether it hid your binder or not. Not have to worry about cameras getting side on shots of your body, chest visible unable to bind while racing.
“Hurts..” Lando heard you speak, clearly wanting more for the pain. Snapping him from the immense surge of proudness that welled in his chest. You watched your boyfriend carefully. How he pulled out his phone, how a frown settled on his oh so perfect face, how he sighed. That sigh really didn’t sound good.
“I’m sorry baby..” he spoke softly, adjusting a few pillows behind you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t give you any ibuprofen just yet.. gotta wait another hour first. Okay?”
Reluctantly, you nodded. With a smile, Lando rose from the bed, fixing the covers and set the remote for the TV into your hand. “Put on whatever you’d like, my love. I’m gonna order us some food.”
yourusername
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Left with less of myself but felt more complete.
Thank you baby. Thank you for coming with me, supporting me and taking care of me. I love you so much <3
And thank you for the icecream
Tagged: @/landonorris
Comments
landonorris I love you too baby. So proud of you <3
user1 STOP IT THIS IS ACTUALLY ADORABLE
user2 GOING TO SCREAM
oscarpiastri So proud of you mate!
user3 “left with less of myself but felt more complete” IM GOING TO SOB
mercedesamgf1 Looking forward to working with you this season! Wishing you a speedy recovery!
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“Oh my god this fucking sucks” you groaned out, eyes screwed shut. It felt like the drains were cutting into your sides. They hurt more than the fucking incisions stretched across your chest.
“I know baby..” Lando frowned softly, moving to sit beside you again and pressed a kiss to your temple. He didn’t really know. Not truly. He knew that. He didn’t know how the pain was, he just knew you were in pain. And if he could do something about that, he would. “Not long now though.. hopefully get them out tomorrow.”
The two of you were cutting it fine in regards to the 2025 season. You were both due at Bahrain for the three days of pre-season testing (although you weren’t exactly excited about their twisted laws for LGBT individuals). Due there the 25th of February, testing starting the 26th and finishing on the 28th. At that point you would be four and a half weeks healed. You’d practically have to beg the surgeon tomorrow to give you a letter saying you could take part.
Then, a two week break. Season opening in Australia on the 16th March. At which you’d be six and a half weeks. In theory, fully healed. But it could take anywhere from 6-8.
“What you thinkin’ about, love?” Lando looked to you, arm wrapping carefully around your shoulders.
“Who said I was thinking about anything?” You shot back with a smile, meeting his gaze and carefully placed your head to his shoulder.
“You were sticking your tongue out.”
“Traitor..” you muttered to it.
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You were sat in the surgeons office the next day, leg bouncing against the floor, hand holding onto the inside of Lando’s thigh for comfort. Your head was spinning. You were drowning. Drowning in endless possibilities and all bad. What if you didn’t like it? What if you decided you preferred yourself before? What if you weren’t really trans? What if you’d picked the wrong surgeon and ultimately it looked awful? What if your nipples had fallen off? What if-
“Y/n, breathe..” Lando spoke softly, one hand moving to rest on top of yours that was holding his thigh and the other moving to rub your own. “You’re panicking, love.”
You turned to face him caught like a deer in headlights. Your tongue fell flat in your mouth as your mind scrambled to find words. Piece together some remnants of a sentence. Lando didn’t rush you, didn’t disrespect you, didn’t roll his eyes or get angry. Instead, he let you take your time. Let you organise your mind. Removing your hand from his thigh just for a moment to place a kiss to the back of it before letting you set it back down wherever you chose. You decided to just leave it in the same spot.
Eventually, you spoke up. “What if I regret it..” you whispered, voice cracking slightly.
You watched as Lando opened his mouth to speak. Cut off by the surgeon that entered. “Right! Let’s get this show on the road.” The man spoke, heading to the chair in the middle of the room. “Come sit on this chair for me.”
You didn’t move at first, watching as he went to wash his hands. Only as the surgeon started to slip his gloves on did you stand, Lando helping you to undo the buttons on your shirt and slipped it from your back. Leaving you looking to a bare stomach and bandaged chest.
With hesitant feet, you silently moved to the chair, sitting on it with your eyes fixed to Lando. Refusing to look to your chest or the mirror in the corner of the room as the surgeon got to work unraveling bandages.
You caught glimpses of dried blood as he began to pull gauze away, swallowing thickly as he removed the ones covering your nipples only to find that they weren’t on the fabric. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, shoulders relaxing some.
Then came the drains. They weren’t so bad, a slight nip to begin with as the surgeon pulled out stitches holding them in place. But other than that it just felt weird. Like how you’d imagine sucking a noodle through a lip piercing would feel like when a video came up on your for you page once. You’d quickly blocked that user for the sake of your own sanity. Not malicious intent, it just freaked you out and you did not want to risk them coming back onto your fyp again.
“Alright, we’re all done.” The man spoke, stepping back to take a look at his work. Your own eyes gaze still fixed to Lando. “I’ll leave you two alone to look. But it all looks good and healthy to me.” You heard the snap of gloves coming off, the squeak and then clatter of a bin opening and closing. The surgeon walking into your view to leave the room.
Lando frowned when you didn’t turn to look. Standing, he moved to lock the door, then made his way to you. Crouching beside you. “You look gorgeous, baby..” Lando whispered as he took your hand and held it to his own cheek pressing a kiss to the palm of it. “Do you want a photo of it first, babe?” He asked softly, seemingly able to read you like an open book as you nodded slowly.
As Lando stood, he set your hand back into your lap. He stopped the recording, taking a few steps back at the front of the chair and took a photo. After making sure it wasn’t blurry, he headed back to you reassuming his crouched position and turned the screen to you. “Here..”
With both hands, you carefully took the device. Eyes scanning the photo meticulously looking for any mistakes. Any dog ears, any infections, anything that didn’t look like it should be there. But instead all you found was some light bruising and scabs along your incisions. All perfectly normal. All.. perfect.
“You want to look in the mirror?” He asked softly, watching you nod. With a smile, Lando helped you to stand so you wouldn’t stretch the incisions. Hanging back as you moved to the mirror. Setting the phone up where you’d just sat to continue recording.
Like the photo, your eyes scanned the reflection in the mirror. Left to right, down, right to left, down, left to right. Finding nothing again. You felt emotions bubbling in your chest, but it was when you turned to the side that your works burst. You were flat. A bit swollen and bruised. But you were flat. Holy shit.
You looked to Lando in the mirror. The man holding the biggest grin he could and you were sure he didn’t even realise it. Slowly, you turned to him as a sob was pulled from your throat, moving to hide in your boyfriend’s shoulder while he wrapped his arms around you. The feeling of his arms wrapped against your bare skin, his chest flush against yours without anything in the way caused you to cry harder. Legs weak and shaky but you remained standing.
Lando had a feeling he’d be getting a lot more hugs from you.
After the surgeon showed both you and Lando how to properly tape the sutures and cover your nipples, he gave you scar cream and you were under strict instructions to keep your chest dry. Only rinse after the testing sessions to get rid of any sweat and pat dry with paper towels. He then handed you a letter which you’d take a photo of and send to Toto when you got home. Basically stating you had the all clear.
The drive home was a slow one. Purposefully. After a week in bed you wanted to get outside. So, despite not having showered in a week that was exactly what the two of you done. You broke your strict diet, had Tim Hortons, coffee, a donut and just drove around town taking the long route back to the air B&B.
Once back, Lando ran you a bath, helping you inside and began to was you carefully. You made sure to keep the waterline below your surgery. Letting Lando press kisses to your face, head, shoulder, neck, hands. Wherever he could. Making sure you knew he loved you. He was here. He wasn’t leaving. He wanted to help. Then came the difficult part, washing your hair. Lando helped you to dry off and change first into some comfortable joggers and one of his button ups. Then, wrapped a towel around your neck and over your shoulders. You crouched down, head over the edge of the tub as Lando started the shower. Making sure the water was at the right temperature before beginning to wash away the grease and grime of the past week. Chuckling as you melted into his hand.
Once your hair was adequately soaked, he turned the shower off, let the head fall into the bath and grabbed the shampoo. He lathered, rinsed, then done the same with conditioner. He then squeezed some of the water out your hair before you sat up, drying it for you and chuckled when he pulled the towel away. Hair sticking up every which way. “My handsome man..” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips which you happily accepted. Hand dropping to his waist.
———————————
mercedesamgf1
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mercedesamgf1
The 2025 season is officially underway!
Y/N and George at day 1 of pre-season testing
Tagged: @/yourusername @/georgerussell
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user1 y/n’s hands 🤤🤤
user2 You guys always have to ruin it huh?
landonorris no touchy
yourusername down boy
yourusername good to be back! So excited to work with you guys this season!
You turned to the door when it opened, smiling wide when you saw Lando poke his head round it. “There you are!” The man grinned, stepping inside. Pausing when he spotted, well, nothing. Just a flat chest under that black jumpsuit.
You smiled wide. “Here I am.” You spoke walking over to him. Turning in a circle as you went. “You like?”
“Oh baby I love..” the other whispered, blushing when a kiss was pressed to his cheek. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck. Now your turn to hold him. And you certainly wouldn’t complain. “Love you..” you heard a mutter into your shoulder.
You smiled back, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder with a “Love you most..”
———————————
Bonus - Boys on the beach
yourusername
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Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 204k others
yourusername
beach days with my boys
Tagged: @/landonorris @/oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc @/carlossainz55
Comments
user1 not Charles having a better photo then his own boyfriend
yourusername “if you’re gonna post a photo of me it could be a good one at least”
carlossainz55 alright that’s just mean now
charles_leclerc We aren’t your boys
landonorris yes we are
oscarpiastri Yes we are
yourusername yes you are
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ʚɞ I don’t know how to do endiiiiings. sorry if the second half’s a little rushed. Half of it got deleted since my tumblr crashed and I hadn’t saved so had to retype it all. This took way longer than I thought it would. Enjoy!!
WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME I SAID MCLARENAMGF1 AND NOT MERCEDES THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR FIVE HOURS IN GOING TO SCREAM
I’m in McLaren brain rot rn
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meazalykov · 2 months ago
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touchy
catarina macario x chelsea!uswnt!reader
summary: you don't know what to do with your hands, so you choose to always hold your lover
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it’s a crisp evening in london, the sun already dipping below the horizon as you and the rest of girls at chelsea finish up the last few drills of training for the night. 
the air feels charged, excitement ahead of the match against madrid tomorrow. however, your attention keeps straying to catarina, like it always does.
she’s standing off to the side now, stretching out her legs, her curly ponytail swaying as she rolls her shoulders back. you’ve been together for 18 months—18 months of loving her, being loved by her—and still, you can’t help it. 
your hands ache to do something, to hold something, and more often than not, it’s her. so you jog over, not caring about the looks or the teasing you’ll probably get.
“y/n, what do you want now?” catarina asks, her voice light as she grins up at you wearing the pink chelsea training kit.
“you,” you answer easily, slipping your arms around her waist from behind and pulling her close. you hear her chuckle softly, her hands coming up to rest on your forearms. the sound of her laugh never fails to settle something inside you.
“seriously? we’re still training,” she teases, though she doesn’t make any attempt to move away.
“y/n!” lucy’s voice cuts through, loud and exasperated. you look up just in time to see a ball flying straight at you. you shift slightly, one arm still wrapped around cat, and catch it with your free hand.
“wha–what is this?” you say, raising an eyebrow as you hold up the ball.
lucy smirks, hands on her hips. 
“you can hold it, y/n. now you’ve got something else to do with your hands.”
catarina bursts out laughing in your arms, her shoulders shaking as she leans back into you. you roll your eyes, throwing the ball lazily back to lucy.
“that’s lame, lucy,” you shoot back, pressing your face into cat’s hair. 
“try harder next time.”
“lame? excuse me?” lucy huffs, but you can hear the grin in her voice as she throws the ball to the side and jogs off toward sjo and lauren.
millie jogs past at the perfect moment, her voice ringing out loud enough for everyone to hear. 
“look at the lovebirds, will you? it’s like we’re not even here.”
lucy throws her hands up dramatically in mock disgust. 
“ugh, get a room, you two. it’s unbearable.”
“you love it,” millie fires back, grinning as she ruffles lucy’s hair.
lucy tries to scowl, but she doesn’t fool anyone. 
“no, i don’t!” she protests.
cat’s still laughing, twisting around in your arms so she can look at you properly. 
“you really don’t care, do you?”
“about what?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
“all the teasing,” she replies, smiling softly. her eyes are warm, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
“nope,” you say without hesitation. 
“gives me an excuse to hold you more. i’ve gotta do something with my hands, right?”
the way cat’s smile widens sends a flutter through your chest. she lifts her arms to loop around your neck, tugging you closer.
“you’re ridiculous,” she says, her voice quiet now, like the two of you are the only ones left on the pitch.
“yeah,” you murmur back, leaning in until your forehead rests against hers. “but you love it.”
she tilts her head slightly, pretending to think it over. 
“do i?”
you pull back just enough to raise an eyebrow at her, and she laughs, squeezing your neck lightly before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“okay, i’m joking,” she says softly. 
“i love you.”
“i love you, too,” you answer quietly, meaning every word.
from somewhere off to the side, you hear lucy yell, “they’re doing it again!”
“oh, shut up, lucy!” millie calls back.
cat just shakes her head, laughing softly as she leans into you again, and you decide there’s no better place for your hands to be than exactly where they are—holding her, always holding her.
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mwahsturns · 2 months ago
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write a fic for ur bestie 🎀
y/n has always been in love with chris since literal children, they even dated for a while. she moves away for a few years and comes back when they’re all adults. NOW she is in love with matt 🙃 the rest is up to you
That should’ve be me ᰔ | M.S
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Soft!reader x Matt Sturniolo
Contains: angst, fighting, smut, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dirty talk and oral (male receiving)
Synopsis: you’ve always been In love with Chris, you guys eventually started dating in sophomore year that is until you moved to Texas for a year with your family. You’re now 21 and decided to move back to Boston, you and Nick stayed in touch so he asked to met up. Maybe you were wrong, it wasn’t chris?
Authors note: I made this for my best friend @freshsturns !! I hope you guys enjoy it and enjoy the plot twist.. bye loves stay soaked!
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It’s always been Chris for me or at least I thought so. I’ve been in love with him since we were 10 and eventually he asked me out our sophomore year.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
I got to school late today my mom had work today so Matt was supposed to pick me up but of course he forgot, Meaning I had to walk. Today was slow mostly because everyone was so focused on studying for our mid term exam, I walked into biology seeing Chris sitting in the back of the class waving me over. I walked over smiling softly. ‘Hey pretty you look good today’ Chris always had a way with words I can’t explain it.
‘Hey Chris!’ I smile sitting next to him. ‘How was your morning?’ I roll my eyes not happy about it. ‘Well your dumbass of a brother forgot to pick me up this morning’ he chuckled putting his pen on the desk.
‘You were supposed to ride with us today?’ I nod taking out my notebook and text book ‘hey if it makes you feel better he made us miss first period’ I laugh opening my text book. ‘Yeah it does actually’ I smile. ‘There’s that smile’ I blush pushing his shoulder. Later on that day me and Chris were sitting in music class together when he tapped my shoulder. ‘Yeah what’s up’ I ask, ‘look I gotta ask you something but you gotta promise it won’t ruin anything’ I nod. ‘I promise’ he smiles softly. ‘I like you y/n like a lot’ I smile taking his hand. ‘I like you too Chris I always have but I was too afraid of rejection..’ he chuckled then looked at me. ‘Do you wanna be my girlfriend?’ He says hopeful. ‘Of course I do’ I laugh making him smile.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
It’s been a few years since that happened, I’m now 20 and me and Chris ended our relationship in our senior year due to me having to move to Texas. I decided to move back to Boston a few weeks ago, me and Nick stayed close after the move and when he found out I moved back he insisted we meet up. I knocked on the door nervously waiting for someone to answer.
My jaw dropped as the door opened, there he was my childhood best friend but attractive?! I don’t remember Matt being this fine. The messy hair, he looked like he just hoped out the shower. The grey sweatpants, the pink shirt. Gosh he looked so good. ‘You gonna stand there and keep staring at me or are you gonna come inside?’ He smirked.
That damn smirk was so attractive I can’t even think straight. ‘No no yeah uh sorry’ he smiled as I walked inside. ‘I missed you it’s been so long you look good’ he smiled looking me up and down. ‘You too’ I snap out of my thoughts with the sound of running. I see Nick and Chris running towards me then hugging me tightly. ‘We missed you!’ They shout at me making me giggle. ‘I missed you guys too’ I smile.
I’ve been hanging out with the triplets again for a few days now but all of sudden Matt won’t speak to me and he’s become so cold towards me. I went to Chris to ask him if he knew anything. ‘Chris what’s up with Matt he’s acting so weird with me’ he shrugged.
‘I don’t know he seems fine to me’ I nod half smiling. ‘Oh okay- thanks anyways’ I say about to head out when he stops me. ‘Hey can we talk about something’ I nod sitting at the edge of his bed. ‘Look I know it’s been a long time but I wanted to know..would you be willing in you know..trying again maybe?’ My heart sank how am I supposed to tell him I have a crush on his brother?! I look at him unknowing what to say.
‘Can I think about it?’ He nods. ‘No no yeah of course take your time’ I smile stepping out of the room running into Matt, it looked like he was ease dropping but as soon as we bumped into each other he tried to leave. ‘Matt come back what is wrong with you you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now!’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Fuck off’ I grab his shoulder turning him around. ‘No Matt what the fuck is wrong with you?!’ He looks pissed like I fucking hit his dog or something.
‘You know what’s wrong with me your what’s wrong with me you come back from Texas and they all just expect you like you never left and Chris magically falls in love with you again and all this other fairytale bullshit but guess what y/n not me you could take your sorry ass back to Texas for all I care’ I don’t know where any of this is coming from first he missed me now he hates me? ‘What the fuck Matt?! Why are you acting like this’ he looks like he wanted to say something but he didn’t and tried to walked away making me pull him back.
‘Stop walking away and tell me what’s wro-‘ I was cut off by Matt’s voice raising. ‘It’s should have been me ! There ya happy now it should have been me not Chris’ he says sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. I rush over to him sitting next to him and rubbing his shoulder.
‘What do you mean talk to me Matt’ he shakes his head looking at me. ‘Don’t act like you didn’t know y/n I’ve always wanted you but you just didn’t care about me enough to notice because I’ve always been awkward’ I shake my head looking into his eyes. ‘Matt you’re not awkward and I’m sorry I never noticed’ I hug him tightly for a moment. We pulled back slowly staring into each other’s eyes, I’ve never studied his face this much before. I can’t help but feel memorized by it, I look down at his lips there soft and have a pink tint to them.
I didn’t even notice he was leaning in until our lips met my hand cupping his jaw immediately kissing him back.
(Chris’s pov)
I hadn’t heard anyone In a while so I decided to head upstairs to see where everyone was at. As I was gonna turn the corner I see Matt and y/n. I kinda hide behind the wall and look and I see them kissing? Why is she kissing Matt of all people. Tears slowly form in my eyes making me rush back into my room slamming my door shut.
(Back to y/n’s pov)
He slipped his tongue into my mouth making me moan softly my hands in his hair as his hands explored my lower back. He pulled back searching my eyes for any signs of regret. ‘I want more’ I say reassuring him, he nods taking my hand and going into his bed room. Once he got inside he took off shirt kissing me again this time more heated. I caressed the back of his head as he pressed against the edge of bed making us fall onto it.
He took off my shirt placing soft kisses over my chest. I roll us over getting onto my knees and unbuckling his belt ‘you don’t have to’ he says nervously. ‘I want too’ i smile pushing his boxers down and licking the side of his dick. He bucks his hips into my hand making me smile.
I continue to jerk Matt before I put my hands at the bottom and put my mouth on the tip and swirl my tongue around his pre-cum before I take all of him into my mouth, ‘fuck you’re mouth is so good’ he says gripping my hair. Matt throws his head back with a little eye roll I continue to suck him bobbing my head up and down and I as swirl my tongue over his tip.
Matt is getting closer and I can tell by the tone of his voice ‘oh fuck I’m gonna cum’ I then take my mouth off start to jerk him off. ‘oh fuck’ he moans cumming in my mouth. I pull off swallowing the load as he picks up and throws me on the bed. He stripped me fully then flipped me over onto my stomach adjusting me onto my hands and knees.
‘I’m gonna fuck you so good’ he slapped my ass harshly making me moan as he roughly thrusted into me. I moan uncontrollably gripping the sheets as he thrusted into me. He grabbed my hair yanking my hair back so his mouth was near my ear. ‘Is it good baby? Am I making my pretty girl feel good?’ He whispered in my ear making me moan. ‘S-so good you’re so big’ he laughs darkly into my ear. ‘Chris couldn’t make you feel this good couldn’t he sweetheart?’ He says pounding into me.
‘No-no Matt he’s not-oh fuck! Only you fuck me this good!’ I moan he chuckled letting go of my hair and gripping my hips pounding into me. ‘Matt I’m gonna cum!’ I moan as he pants his body sweaty. ‘Cum F’me cum on my dick’ chant out his name moaning uncontrollably as we both came.
He pulls out falling next to me wrapping his arms around me pulling me closer to him. ‘Did I prove to you why you should be with me or do I need to show you again’ he says breathlessly. ‘You might need to show me again’ I smirk kissing him again.
He was so right I can’t believe I didn’t give him a chance…
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Authors note: Hii sorry if it was rushed I had sm to do as I was writing this but I did this for my best friend and I hope it turned out okay! I love you guys sm stay cunty <3
Taglist: @freshsturns @4ninimwahh @sturniolos4life16 @pleasebendmeoverxxx (comment if you wanna be on my tag list!)
Divider by: @bernardsbendystraws
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