#I hope you see this and I hope this is at least vaguely along the lines of what you wanted?

[bitethedevil]

did raphael rape hope

TW: RAPE

This is just my personal opinion. I believe you can interpret it however you want because it is somewhat vague. Hope’s comment does signify that she has experienced something of a sexual nature in the boudoir.

All in all, I have shared my opinion on the whole Hope storyline and some of what happens in the House of Hope before. The writers of this game are amazing and there is no doubt about it. It does come a bit out of left field for me. I see what they are doing. I get it too: “this cool, suave devil? He’s actually just a cringefail bastard underneath it all”. Subverting expectations and all of that.

At some point the whole thing with Raphael was supposed to be different. You were supposed to be able to go to his house and buy things with soul coins (which would have been so fucking cool and I grieve that it didn’t happen). My take on the whole thing with Haarlep and Hope is that somewhere along the way they were like: “we have made him too cool and likeable, so we need to really point out in a not-so-subtle way that he is actually not”.

Anyway. Back to the point: Raphael is a lawful character. Lawful is not equal to good. He believes in choices. Unfair, impossible choices is his bread and butter. Like he says about Mol:

“She has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left.”

That’s how he works. He would not directly force himself upon Hope, but he would give her an impossible choice between doing it willingly or something horrible happening, if he did rape her. Personally I more believe that it was Haarlep who did something (incubus spittle perhaps, because then she is “”willing”” though that would still be rape) or she was made to watch (which is completely fucked and unacceptable too, obviously). But I do believe she "“had a choice”", though a completely impossible one, because Raphael is Raphael.

He is creepy towards Hope. We see it in the “Taming Hope” documents at his house, but if he did something, I think he would do it in a way that at least justified to himself that it “wasn’t rape”. Choice is sacred to him, because there is no hope to play with and break without choice, and that is how he works.

This, of course, is also dependent on if Hope is an actual person or a concept. There would be something clearly symbolic with him raping the concept of Hope. I mean, that is sort of what he does. He desecrates something beautiful and pure for his own twisted means.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[brightstar2000]

"Your past doesn't define you"

I think some people need to take this to heart. This applies to, not just Moon, but Nexus too.

Yes, Moon did horrible things in the past, i will not try to sugarcoat or gloss over that, but he is and has been making a genuine effort to be better than he used to be, and he is better than he used to be. He even acknowledged how he dislikes being so short tempered when Goliath made that poke at Sun. He's aware of what he's done and wants to improve.

Nexus, on the other hand is the opposite. He started good, that is undeniable and he kept it up for a while until he began to deteriorate after Solar died. He's made it very clear now that he intends to harm Sun's family. If infecting Moon a little bit with the negative star power first didn't make that clear, him nearly killing him the other day made it abundantly clear. He refused Solar's help as well. He doesn't want to change back to how he used to be, but people continue to defend him and hate on Moon.

I'm not saying to ignore the abuse that Moon put Sun through, but at least look at him now, making an actual effort to change and be better. Look, if an ex abuser is making real genuine efforts to become better as a person, and even acknowledges their slip ups when they happen and takes the steps to prevent them from happening again, i see that as a redeemable person. Moon is redeemable in this sense and i am willing to give him a chance.

Nexus? I do not see any redeemable qualities about him anymore except the very vague hope that he may still come back. That New Moon is still possibly in there somewhere. Yet with each encounter so far, that small hope i have dies more and more and is genuinely almost entirely gone by this point. For me, as of right now, where the lore stands, Nexus is irredeemable. His past does not define him. Same with Moon. The differences between them are that they both are going in opposite directions from eachother. Moon getting better, Nexus getting worse.

Moon had a kill code that influenced his actions. It is clear that he did not want to do the things he did himself. He expresses extreme guilt and regret, going so far as to say he would trade his life so the victims he killed could live again.

Nexus did not have a kill code. He still doesn't. He chose to start doing all of the things he is doing himself. I know Dark Sun helped it along, but i seriously doubt Dark Sun pitched the idea for Nexus to start injecting himself with negative star power. And i said it so many times before, but grief did not give Nexus the right to do what he did to his ex family. Not even when he had his psychosis snap. His ex family still are not to blame for that. They also had their own grief to get through at the time. Nexus didn't let them try to help him. Nexus had no outside influence before Dark Sun got him to make him become like he was when he nearly killed Earth. It was all himself and that is why i have such a hard time believing he is still good inside.

[inzaynety]

investigation: start! ⤫

➢ summary: when visiting the third division, there’s never a shortage of questions and confusion about you. a few take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of it.

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2574 words, nosy officers, jealous hoshina, suggestive at the end, iharu has a crush on you, slight spoilers for the manga for certain instances to make the plans make sense but it’s vague

➢ notes: i was reading thru character profiles and it made writing this a little easier w the interactions 🫡 hope u enjoy

prequel - pt. 1 of slice & dice - pt. 2

The lives of the higher-ups were always a topic of discussion for the members of the defense force. If anything, it seemed to be entertainment and gossip to exchange and bond over between divisions. One of the hot topics includes Commander Ashiro’s childhood, courtesy of Kafka. 

The only person they couldn’t get anything on was their own Vice-Commander. He was already an enigma himself with that cheerful yet unsettling grin, and they were all witnesses to the receiving end of his narrowed stares during training. The most they could get out of him was a boisterous laugh that shared nothing. They were getting bored. 

But with boredom comes the urge to seek new things. And in this case, dirt on Vice-Commander Hoshina.

There wasn’t much they could see initially–until you came along. 

Now, you weren’t an uncommon sight for the Third Division officers. They would see you hanging around Okonogi or eyeing a few of the new officers during training with an intense gaze that they didn’t know if they should feel flattered or intimidated. Most of the time, however, you were in close proximity to Hoshina. During division meetings, the officers never saw a day without the two of you conversing in some way whether it be through words or standing right next to each other. There was no blatant physical contact but the distance between you two was a little odd to say the least. 

So some took it upon themselves to start a mission.

Kikoru would never voice her true intentions out loud but it was clear that she was as invested as her companions were if her constant questions about the matter said anything about it. She was influenced by her close peers and their enthusiasm definitely fed that.

Reno didn’t want anything to do with it… at first. He changed his mind after only an hour and he thinks it’s due to spending too much time with a certain someone who loved entertainment. Iharu sneezes in the distance. 

Kafka was simultaneously wanting to join the younger members in their antics, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk another week of pushups. While he would admit that his arms were tougher, those exercises reminded him of the embarrassment every time he miscalled his commander. But the thought of having some knowledge about Hoshina was interesting, to say the least. 

It seemed they were all bored overall. 

Ultimately, they all decided to make a plan and figure it out separately. Your division was visiting for a week and reconvening would wait until the weekend. It was time to investigate. 

Minase was the one to kick it off, prompting her fellow members to gain more confidence. It all started with an innocent encounter in the operations room when she, Kikoru, and Hakua passed by. 

There were voices inside but the most prominent ones were yours and Hoshina’s. The Vice-Commander was a little surprised to see them when they intercepted at the door but it is quickly masked when you step out, a hint of a smile on your face possibly due to the joke he told you only moments before.

“Now, what’re you three doin’ here?” The Vice-Commander asks, hands in his pockets while you stand slightly behind him with your head tilted. 

Minase always had a good ear being a great listener for her peers and was able to hear what he had said to you. It was a flirty quip, but not enough to not be told to a close friend. Upon seeing that she had caught both of your attention, she smiles.

“Good afternoon!” You greet her as well but a silence falls over you five. It’s a bit awkward–Kikoru side-eyes her friend to see what the whole stopping and rushing over here was for, but Minase had a plan already set. “We were actually looking for you, Commander,” she looks directly at you and you raise a brow at the implication of her tone.

“Oh?” You take a step forward. “What for?”

“Some training tips, is all. After the last session you gave us, it motivated us to work on our blade work even more!” Like Hoshina, your preferred way of fighting had nothing to do with the guns everyone else used. You hum in acknowledgement. 

The Third was full of promising new officers and it would be a waste to not help them hone their skills even more. But you were sure Hoshina was pushing them enough with his own swordsmanship. You even learned a lot from him yourself. 

Hakua stifles a choked sound when Minase elbows her gently, not expecting to be put on the spot just like that. And despite already being told of their group’s plan beforehand and having her outgoing personality, it was still a nerve-racking request. 

“Y-Yeah! You seem close to Commander Narumi so we thought you guys would have similar fighting styles.” In your head, you think they’re referring to how he’s the strongest and anyone would want to learn from the best of the best. Gen wasn’t the easiest to get a hold of and you felt flattered they would ask you directly, so of course you would help out.

On the side, Kikoru is tasked with watching the Vice-Commander. Not all reactions were verbal and she was the most observant of the three, but she couldn’t maintain her eyes on him the whole time lest he get suspicious. 

But now she thinks her eyes have deceived her. At the mention of Commander Narumi, Hoshina’s eyes peek open. She sees how they darken more as Hakua talks about your fighting styles but just like his initial surprise earlier, that expression left as quickly as it came. 

She tucks that away.

Vice-Commander Hoshina had his “Kaiju killing eyes” at the mention of Commander Narumi. Don’t know what that could mean. - Kikoru

That’s jealousy! - Minase

Now you see what I mean about his eyes?? - Kafka

Iharu was infatuated with you from the get-go, though you would say that his first inspiration was Commander Ashiro. Saving him that day was what began his journey into the Defense Force, but it was you who motivated him to alter his fighting style to keep up with Reno. 

Speaking of the latter, he was sitting beside him in the cafeteria as the two tried to think of a plan for their part. They caught wind that Kikoru’s group got a promising lead and it was up to the rest to solidify it. But they’ve been stuck for the past hour trying to come up with their own thing and asking for training would be a stolen idea.

Reno watches as more and more officers walk into the shared area and grab their meals from the line. They’re a mix of your division and the Third Division members conversing among themselves and he immediately sits up with his idea. Iharu turns his head in surprise to find Reno’s attention already turned to him.

“What? Got an idea?” Reno nods fervently and brings both of their heads down to speak more quietly. Iharu raises his brows at the proposal and his cheeks turn pink. He’s outspoken, yeah, and confident, sure, but this was you. 

His friend pleads with him. He relents.

It’s not too long before you step into the cafeteria with the goal of lunch like everyone else. Spending time with Okonogi was great and all but she fried your brain with data only she and your Operations Leader Sora could keep up with. This was grounds for a well-deserved meal before your joint training session as well. 

Iharu watches as you get in line and as he stands up to line up behind you, and like Reno predicted as you grab your tray, you see the officer. To his and Iharu’s surprise, you greet him first. 

“Officer Furuhashi, right?” You ask after grabbing your tray. There’s a bright look on your face at the excitement of seeing the man who impressed your previous Commander. He shakily nods and you smile in response. “Commander Ogata said a lot of things about you.”

Iharu lets out a polite chuckle. “All good things, I hope?” He gets a laugh out of you and you both fall into a comfortable conversation as you move down the line. Reno watches the door and he hopes the timing works out, or Plan B would have to be used. At least Iharu was having a good time. 

It’s when the two of you reach the end of the line and walk towards Reno’s table does Hoshina appear from the doorway. The red-haired officer doesn’t see him yet and your conversation is at the point when you have a hand on his arm as you’re gushing over his newfound ability with his Kaiju suit. He feels a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder and Iharu freezes, looking to his side to see his Vice-Commander. 

“Vice–”

“Afternoon, Officer Furuhashi. Whatcha two talkin’ about?” By then your hand still hasn’t left his arm and he feels Hoshina’s grip get tighter. Iharu places his tray down onto the nearest table and your hand drops to your side but you didn’t notice. 

“His new ability,” you answer, “we were talking about it earlier with the operations team, remember? I was just looking for you, Officer Furuhashi, I’m so glad I got to talk to you.” Your answer is so sincere and he feels like he could melt right then and there. But to the side of him, there was also a strange sensation in the air. 

It was akin to bloodlust. 

“The same here.” Iharu answers and bows, “Please, enjoy your lunchtime.” Before you can say anything more, he turns on his heel straight towards Reno with his head down. 

The two sit there in silence as you look on in confusion before Hoshina pulls you along with him for his lunch. They aren’t looking at the two of you but Reno already got what he needed.

Vice-Commander Hoshina almost broke Furuhashi’s shoulder. I saw he also had one of his blades behind him while they were all talking. - Reno

WHAT?? - Iharu

By the way, what was plan B? - Kikoru

Iharu asks her directly if she’s dating the Vice-Commander. - Reno

HELLO?? - Iharu

Hi. - Kafka

Kafka knew he was going to be the last of the bunch to get this done. The digital community board on their group chat was a smart idea by Minase and he was able to see what the younger officers were trying to do with this mission. 

Kikoru and her friends got the first response but it needed more. Reno and Iharu got the “more” and all-in-all needed one final piece to set the puzzle. Kafka was proud of them but was currently in a situation with absolutely no idea as to what he was going to do. He thought that was more than enough to assume there was a relationship between the two of you, but Kikoru kicked him for that, too.

Was there any way to get you to confess about it? He thought about asking you directly but even though you were younger than him, you still held a higher title. And he didn’t want to face the potential wrath you could unleash for asking such a question. Were you the type to dish out punishments like the Vice-Commander? Again, he didn’t want to risk it. 

He had to do it soon too, you and your division were leaving in the morning and it would be another month or so before you and Hoshina would be seen in the same vicinity. 

Kafka sighs and runs a hand through his hair. This was troublesome but they were counting on him. 

He looks around the library he’s doing his nightly study session and sees that the time is very close to midnight. He’s shocked and now there’s absolutely no way he’s going to catch you at this hour, not unless you were training anyway. His best bet was to find you early in the morning but even that was a bit of a gamble.

Deciding on his defeat, Kafka puts his books and pens away before heading out into the hallway back to his room. He gets a sense of deja vu when he sees the light of the training room still on and assumes it’s the Vice-Commander again, and it wouldn’t hurt to watch him in action, right?

He walks up to the slightly open door and stops in his tracks at the sight. Both you and Hoshina were holding blades. Your’s were slightly longer and his were the typical ones he used during outside missions. Needless to say, they were the real deal. 

In the blink of an eye, you’re lunging towards each other and Kafka thinks if he blinks even once, he’d miss about five slashes shared between you two. Following Hoshina alone was already too much but watching someone match his speed? It was out of this world. 

The match only lasts for about half a minute, ending with a knife to both of your throats from the other. A moment of heavy breathing follows before you groan and toss your head back in exasperation, both of you simultaneously lowering your weapons. 

“I still can’t get that last one right!” 

“It was close! And hey, ya got the blade to my neck.”

“I always get the blade to your neck.” You roll your eyes. Hoshina was the best swordsman there was and it was incomparable to your personal weapon, so of course he would be better than you at it. ‘Whatever, I’m heading to bed.” Hoshina lets out a laugh. You put away the practice weapons and as you head to the door, Hoshina pulls you back to him by your wrist. 

“Wait a second,” he says and leans his head down to yours. 

Kafka, in the meantime, ducked his head to avoid being seen at least a little longer knowing he was not running away to hide in time. There aren't any more words being exchanged and he thinks there’s something else going on in that small bit of silence. 

He pops his head up and makes eye contact with Hoshina’s open eye. 

Got pushups. - Kafka

Damn. Sorry old man. - Iharu

So you got caught? Amateur. - Kikoru

Leave me alone! I tried. - Kafka

So you really didn’t see anything? - Reno

Oh, yeah. They kissed. - Kafka

…

What? - Kikoru

I got caught by the Vice-Commander. Scared me. :(- Kafka

…

HUH?? - Kikoru

Bonus:

After Kafka leaves, his head hung low at the premonition of more punishment, your arms stay on Hoshina’s shoulders. 

“Did you have to do that?” You muse, playing with the shorter hairs near the nape of his neck. He shivers at the feeling but his eyes open slightly and they’re not looking at you so softly.

“Did ya have to talk about him before training?” He counters back. He knows what you’ve been doing. You scoff.

You also know what he’s been doing. The murderous intention at the mention of you and Gen, the physical warning during lunch at Iharu, and even a mark of possession to the poor older man who was just joining in the fun of his peers. 

“Of course,” you bring him down to you, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. You feel his hands tighten on your waist. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

©inzaynety 2024

[pucksandpower]

Welcome to Miami

Lando Norris x Messi!Reader

Summary: a crazy weekend in Miami leaves Lando with his first Formula 1 win, one very pissed off football legend, and a baby-shaped surprise set to arrive in just about nine months

Warnings: 18+ content and unplanned pregnancy

Note: based on a request by @glitterquadricorn that I may have ended up going a little overboard with

You wake up with a pounding headache, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the hotel room window. As you blink your eyes into focus, you realize you’re not in your own bed. The sheets are unfamiliar, the decor is generic and impersonal.

Panic starts to set in as you try to reconstruct the previous night’s events.

The space next to you is still warm, indented from where someone else was recently lying. You glance down at your lack of clothes and tousled hair. Yep, definitely had a one-night stand.

Wracking your brain, you vaguely recall meeting a charming stranger at the club, letting him buy you drinks until everything became a blur of flirtatious banter and wandering hands.

Your phone is on the nightstand and you grab it, hoping for some clues. A new contact catches your eye: “Lando 🍆”. You snort at the stupid name and obvious (if cringey) innuendo. At least he has a sense of humor.

You wonder what kind of guy calls himself Lando these days.

As you get dressed and leave the hotel, already trying to put the awkward walk of shame behind you, fragments of the night come back in flashes. Lando’s warm blue-green eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed. His skilled hands roaming over your body. The way he whispered filthy praises in your ear between searing kisses.

You shiver, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment that you’ll never see him again. But a one-night stand is just that — one night. No need to dwell on the best sex you’ve had in … well, maybe ever.

When you arrive home in the early afternoon, your dad greets you at the door with a knowing smirk.

“Have a good night, mija?” Leo teases, taking in your mussed appearance.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to give him any details. “It was fine.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

Over the next few weeks, you put Lando out of your mind completely. Your life goes on as normal — training with the University of Miami’s football team, doing promotional appearances, and spending time with family and friends.

But then one morning about a month later, you wake up feeling nauseous. You brush it off as a stomach bug at first.

When the queasiness persists for several days along with strange cravings and bouts of fatigue, a nagging suspicion forms in your mind. You dig through your bathroom cabinets until you find an old pregnancy test leftover from a scare last year.

Your hands are shaking as you wait for the result. This can’t be happening. You were so careful with Lando, you’re almost certain … but maybe not careful enough.

The little plastic wand displays two solid pink lines. Positive.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you.

How could you have been so stupid? Getting knocked up from a drunken one-night stand with a guy you can’t even remember properly. What are you going to do? How will you tell your parents? What about your athletic career?

A million thoughts race through your panic-stricken mind as you try to process this massive, life-altering situation. You want to call your best friend and cry, but you’re almost too overwhelmed to formulate words.

Part of you wants to be furious at Lando, that reckless idiot who came inside you so carelessly. But you know you’re just as much to blame. You obviously consented, you just can’t recollect the exact circumstances.

God, why did you let yourself get so sloppy drunk and make such terrible decisions?

You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. Okay, first things first — you need to confirm this with a visit to the doctor. And if it’s still positive, you’ll have to figure out your next steps. Tell your family, decide whether to keep the baby or not. That’s still your choice, at least.

Your mind keeps drifting back to Lando, wishing you knew more about him than just a stupid contact name. Was that even his real name? What did he do for a living? Where was he from? Was he ready for the responsibility of being a father? Not that it mattered — you barely knew him. For all you knew, he could be married or secretly twisted.

No, you reason with yourself, trying to shut down that line of thinking, he seemed like a good guy. At least in the moment. Even through your tequila-soaked haze, you got a feeling of genuine warmth and kindness from him. Maybe you’re both just a couple of random people who made a reckless mistake after having too much fun together.

You take another breath and stand up, your mind made up. First, you’ll go to the doctor and get an official test. Then you’ll deal with everything else from there. There’s no use panicking until you confirm this is actually happening.

But deep down, you know this cheap little test is accurate. You’re pregnant with a virtual stranger’s baby. And in that moment, feeling so lost and overwhelmed and terrified, you can’t help but wonder — who the hell is Lando?

***

You sit on the couch, hands trembling as you clutch the results of your blood test. Tears stream down your face as the weight of the situation crushes down on you.

How could you have been so reckless? So stupid? You’re supposed to be a role model, setting an example for young girls. And now you’re pregnant from a one-night stand with some random guy.

The shame and fear swirl inside you until you can barely breathe. You need to tell your dad. He’ll be so disappointed in you. But you can’t keep this a secret, it will only get harder as your belly grows.

You hear the front door open and your dad’s familiar footsteps. Bracing yourself, you call out in a shaky voice, “Papa? Can you come here please?”

Leo wanders into the living room, his expression turning to immediate concern when he sees your tear-stained face. “Mija, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as you try to find the words. “I … I’m pregnant,” you finally choke out.

His eyes go wide with shock. “Pregnant? How …” Realization dawns on his face. “Was this from that night you came home ...” He doesn’t need to finish the question.

You nod miserably, a fresh wave of tears falling. “I’m so sorry, Papa. I was drunk and stupid and … and I don’t even know who the father is, not really.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Just some guy I met at a club, his name was Lando or something. I barely remember anything!”

To your surprise, your dad’s expression softens into something like sympathy instead of the anger or disappointment you expected. He moves to sit beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Shh, it’s alright mija. I’m not happy about this situation, but I’m not angry at you either. We all make mistakes.” He pauses, seeming to think something over. “This Lando guy … was it around the time of the Miami Grand Prix in early May?”

You nod again, not understanding the connection. “I think so, why?”

A look of recognition crosses your dad’s face. “There’s a young driver in Formula 1. I’m a bit of a fan actually, been following his career when I have the chance. It’s not the most common name.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the pieces fall into place. The drunk recollections of warm color-changing eyes and a charming smile. The weird name followed by that stupid eggplant emoji in your contacts.

It all fits.

“Oh my god … you think the father is Lando Norris? Like, the Formula 1 driver?” Part of you wants to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but another part feels an undeniable certainty that your dad has hit the nail on the head.

Leo nods firmly. “I think it’s highly likely. He was in Miami for the race that weekend. Reckless kid probably went out partying after finally managing to win.”

There’s a hard edge to your dad’s voice at that last part. You can’t really blame his protectiveness — finding out your daughter is pregnant from a one-night stand, especially with a relative celebrity, can’t be easy for any father.

“What am I going to do?” You whisper, scared all over again at the massive upheaval your life is facing.

But your dad just pulls you into a tighter hug, his touch reassuring and strong. “We’ll figure it out together, mija. Don’t worry. If this Lando character is the father, he’ll damn well take responsibility. I’ll make sure of it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting your dad’s words soothe you. He’s right — you’re not in this alone. And if Lando Norris really is the father, well, he signed up for this whether he knew it or not.

“Thank you, Papa. I was so scared to tell you, but I shouldn’t have been. I’m lucky to have you.” You hug him fiercely, fresh tears spilling but this time born of reassurance instead of fear.

Leo just holds you close, his embrace full of fatherly love and protection. “Always, mija. I’ve got your back, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

After a few moments, he pulls back, his expression turning more stern. “And as for this Lando kid, he better step up and be a man about this situation. Because if he tries to abandon you or this baby ...” He lets the implied threat hang in the air.

You can’t help but give a watery laugh. “I have a feeling he won’t want to mess with you. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

Your dad allows a small smile at that. “Smart boy. Now, do you have a way to contact him? I’m sure someone can get us his information if not.”

You think for a moment, then remember — your phone contacts. You grab your cell and pull up the fateful entry.

“Here, just this number with the stupid eggplant emoji.” Your cheeks flush a little as you say it.

Leo arches an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes out his own phone and dials the number, his expression hardening with determination.

“Right, listen up, Lando Norris ...” he begins, leaving no room for argument.

You take a steadying breath as your dad starts laying down the law to the man who knocked up his precious daughter. For the first time since staring at those two pink lines, you feel a tiny kernel of hope taking root.

No matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Your dad has your back, and Lando — well, Lando better prepare himself. Because when Leo Messi demands you take responsibility for your actions, you don’t dare say no.

***

Lando jolts awake to the harsh buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. He blinks blearily at the harsh red numbers of the alarm clock — 2:51 am. Who the hell is calling at this ungodly hour?

He fumbles for the phone, squinting at the unknown number with a +1 country code. Probably a spam call from across the pond. He’s tempted to just silence it, but something makes him swipe to answer with a groggy “Hello?”

“Lando Norris?” The deep voice on the other end is vaguely familiar, but Lando can’t quite place it in his sleep-addled state.

“Yeah, this is him. Who’s this?” He tries and fails to smoother a huge yawn.

“This is Lionel Messi.”

Lando’s eyes shoot wide open, any lingering drowsiness evaporating like he’s been doused with ice water. Leo freaking Messi is on the phone with him? His brain scrambles to comprehend what’s happening.

“I … uh … Mr. Messi, sir. This is … I mean … wow. What an honor!” He cringes at his own stammering, feeling very much like a star-struck fanboy rather than a fellow professional athlete.

Messi’s voice remains calm but firm. “I’ll get right to the point. Do you remember a young woman you slept with recently? The night of the Miami Grand Prix a few months ago?”

Lando feels his stomach drop out. Suddenly this phone call is taking on a very different context than just a casual chat with a sports legend. He racks his brain, trying to recall the handful of women he’d casually hooked up with around that time.

There was that petite blonde from the club after sprint qualifying … no, she was just a make-out in the back alley behind the valet. The pair of Brazilian bombshell twins he’d brought back to his hotel room on Saturday … no, they made him get tested after that escapade just to be safe.

Then it clicks into place — the gorgeous young woman with a killer smile that he’d met at the LIV Nightclub afterparty. They had danced and drank together all night until everything descended into a sweaty, semi-public grope fest in one of the VIP booths before he convinced her to come back to his suite.

He remembers her gasping and whimpering his name as he pounded into her from behind. Remembers the way her nails raked down his back when he made her come apart with his tongue. Remembers being too drunk and worked up to put on a condom before sinking back into her tight, wet heat and ...

Oh shit.

“I … yes, sir. I think I know who you’re referring to,” Lando forces out, his mouth incredibly dry.

“Good. Then you’ll remember getting my daughter pregnant that night as well.”

Lando actually feels the blood drain from his face, a rushing sound filling his ears. He must have misheard, right? There’s no way Leo freaking Messi just said Lando got his daughter pregnant!

“I … I’m sorry … your what?” He sputters out dumbly.

Messi’s tone takes on a steely edge. “My daughter. The young woman you slept with, she’s my daughter. And now she’s pregnant with your child.”

The room starts to spin. Lando tries to force air into his lungs, feeling like he might actually pass out. “Oh my god, I … I had no idea! We were both so drunk, I never would have … oh fuck, I’m so sorry, sir!”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix this, does it?” Messi’s voice is like sharpened steel. “You got my little girl pregnant from some drunken fling and now she has to deal with all of this.”

“I … yes, you’re right. Completely right.” Lando presses trembling fingers to his throbbing temples. This can’t actually be happening, right? “What … what do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, whatever you need!”

There’s a weighted pause on the line before Messi speaks again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“First, you’re going to meet with me and my daughter in person so we can discuss this situation. Then you’re going to take responsibility and be a part of this child’s life, understood? Step up and be a man about it.”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, of course!” Lando is nearly shouting into the phone, desperation and panic clawing at his throat. “Whatever you want, sir. I’ll be there. Just tell me when and where.”

“Good. I’ll have my people set it up and send the details to your team.” There’s a hint of grudging approval in Messi’s voice now, like he’s satisfied Lando appears to be taking this seriously. “I suggest you get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”

The line goes dead before Lando can respond. He stares dumbly at the silent phone in his hand for several long moments, trying to process everything.

Leo Messi’s daughter.

Pregnant.

With his baby.

Holy shit, what has he done? What is he going to do? How did one reckless, drunken night blow up into such a massive catastrophe?

His head is spinning and he can feel his overtaxed body starting to shut down from the shock and stress of the harrowing phone call. He tries to take a deep breath, pushing away the panic and leaning back against the pillows.

Sleep. Right. He needs sleep if he has any hope of dealing with … with all of this. But how can he possibly rest now?

Lando’s eyes start to drift closed despite his whirling thoughts. His body has other plans, sucking him under into blessed unconsciousness as he slumps fully back onto the mattress.

The last thing he’s dimly aware of is his phone slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor, followed by his own body going entirely limp.

When Lando finally does manage to sleep, it’s to the terrifying vision of Leo Messi’s furious face snarling “you got my daughter pregnant” over and over again behind his closed eyelids.

***

The flight from Nice to Miami feels like it takes an eternity, but also happens in a terrifying blur. Lando can barely remember booking the first available ticket, throwing some clothes into an overnight bag, or making his way to the airport in a daze. He runs on autopilot, his mind spinning in frantic circles.

He got Leo Messi’s daughter pregnant. How is this his life?

A private chauffeur is waiting at the baggage claim when Lando deplanes in Miami, holding up a printed sign with his name. Of course Messi would have people to handle something like this.

Lando swallows hard and approaches the stern-faced driver. “I’m Lando Norris. Uh, Mr. Messi is expecting me?”

The chauffeur gives him an appraising look but doesn’t respond beyond a curt nod. He turns on his heel, expecting Lando to follow.

The drive to the Messis’ palatial Miami mansion is silent and tense. Lando fights the urge to fidget anxiously, his knee bouncing until he forces himself still.

Get it together, man. This is it.

All too soon, they’re pulling through an immaculate gate onto perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the huge home. Lando takes a steadying breath as the driver gets his bag from the trunk.

Then the front door is swinging open and there’s Leo Messi himself, looking as intimidating as Lando has ever seen the football icon. His expression is stony, jaw clenched tight as he measures Lando up.

Before Lando can even open his mouth, Messi beats him to it, tone leaving no room for argument.

“I don’t like you.”

The words are like a kick to the gut. Lando forces himself to hold the steely gaze, giving a small nod.

“I understand, sir. I’ve made a terrible mistake and you have every right to be angry with me. I’ll accept whatever consequences I have to.” His voice is strong, despite the way his heart is jack-hammering in his chest.

Messi holds the intense eye contact a moment more before giving a short nod of what might be begrudging respect. He turns and heads inside, clearly expecting Lando to follow.

The foyer opens into an elegant living room where a familiar woman is sitting on one of the plush couches.

You.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as memories from that hazy night come rushing back. Your skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved rhythmically to the music. Your throaty laugh and sparkling eyes as you flirted shamelessly over your fourth … no fifth … mojito. The velvet silk of your hair brushing his face as you ground down against his lap.

He swallows hard, trying not to stare. The situation is awkward enough without dwelling on the admittedly incredible sex that caused this whole mess. Though he can’t deny the sharp spike of pure physical want that hits his gut at the sight of you.

Your eyes are wide and nervous as you take him in. “Um … hi.”

“Hi,” he replies simply, feeling incredibly self-conscious under the weighty stare of your legendary father.

An agonizing beat of silence stretches between the three of you.

“Well?” Leo prompts impatiently, making you both jump. “You got my daughter pregnant. What do you plan to do about it?”

The blunt words make Lando’s face flush hot, but he forces himself to meet your father’s stern gaze head-on.

“Whatever I need to do, sir. I’ll take full responsibility. Financially, emotionally, being there for the child … anything you need from me.” He pauses, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. “That is … if the mother wants me to be involved as well?”

He looks at you then, trying to convey his sincerity. Despite the casual nature of your hook-up, he meant what he said — he will step up and do the right thing for this kid.

His kid.

You seem to consider his words for a long moment before giving a small nod. “Yes … yes, I’d like you to be involved if you’re willing. This is as much my responsibility as yours. We … we can figure this out. Together?”

The uncertain note in your voice tugs at something in Lando’s chest. For all your father’s bluster, you just sound like a young woman in a scary, overwhelming situation. Just like him.

“Together,” he agrees firmly, returning your nod. “We’ll, ah, we’ll be good co-parents. For the baby.”

The words feel strange leaving his lips, but also fill him with a sense of resolve and determination.

Leo watches the exchange between you both like a hawk, his expression unreadable. When he speaks again, his words are measured but dismissive.

“Get it sorted out then. Find a way to make this work. I don’t care about the details as long as you two take care of my grandchild properly.”

With that, he gives a curt nod and turns to exit the room, leaving you and Lando to your own devices. The sudden lack of his intimidating presence seems to deflate the tension somewhat.

You let out a long, shaky breath, shooting Lando a wry look. “He’s … taking this about as well as could be expected, all things considered.”

Lando can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the nervous knot in his stomach loosening slightly. “Yeah, I’ll say. Your dad is legitimately terrifying, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you say with a small smile.

An odd sense of camaraderie falls over you both then — two young people bonding over how Lando quite literally knocked you up. It’s almost enough for him to relax a bit.

Then you glance down at your still-flat stomach and all humor drains away. “So … co-parents, huh? You really want to do this?”

Lando doesn’t even have to think about it. “Of course. It’s my kid too, yeah? My responsibility, like I said.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not exactly how I pictured becoming a father, but … I’m in this all the way. For the little one’s sake.”

Something in your expression softens at his words and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you, Lando. That … that really means a lot to hear.”

Before he can think better of it, Lando closes the distance between you and pulls you into an impulsive hug. You stiffen for just a moment before relaxing against him.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay, you and me,” he murmurs as he holds you close. “We’ve got this, baby mama.”

You stiffen again and pull back sharply at the words, a look of mortification on your face. Lando frowns in confusion until a familiar gravelly voice cuts through the room.

“Lando Norris, I swear if you ever call my daughter that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Leo Messi is back, leveling Lando with a look that would liquefy steel. The driver nearly swallows his tongue, flushing scarlet.

“Y-yes, sir! Of course, sir! It, ah, it won’t happen again!” He stammers out, mentally making a note to permanently delete those words from his vocabulary.

Messi just grunts in response, apparently satisfied, before retreating from the room once more.

You’re staring at Lando with wide eyes and badly-suppressed laughter. He groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Why did I say that? God, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, that smile breaking free. “This is just … all a bit surreal, isn’t it?”

Lando peeks through his fingers to meet your gaze, unable to stop the rueful grin that spreads across his own face.

“Just a bit, yeah.” He drops his hands with a defeated chuckle. “But your dad’s right — we’ve got to take this seriously for the little one.”

You nod, smile fading into a look of grim determination. “We do. Which means you can’t call me baby mama if you actually want to stay alive to see your child.”

“Deal,” Lando agrees readily, feeling lighter than he has since your father first called to drop that bomb on him.

Maybe co-parenting won’t be easy, but somehow he gets the sense you two just might be able to figure it out. And with the entire weight of Leo freaking Messi’s protective rage motivating him, Lando is damn sure going to try his best.

***

Ten Months Later

The vibrant Miami sun beams down on you as you carefully lift Maia out of her stroller, cradling the bundle of joy in your arms. Your daughter’s wide, curious eyes dart around, taking in all the sights and sounds of the paddock for the first time.

“There they are! My two favorite girls,” Lando’s voice rings out as he jogs over, already wearing his team gear in preparation for the drivers parade. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to Maia. “And how’s my little princess doing today?”

Maia lets out a delighted squeal and you can’t help but smile at the pure adoration on Lando’s face as he gently brushes a finger over her chubby cheek. “She’s been an angel all morning. I think she knows this is a big day for her first race.”

“That’s my girl,” Lando grins. “Going to be a little racer before we know it.”

“Lando! There you are, mate.” The Aussie accent cuts through the paddock as Lando’s teammate bounds over. “I’ve been looking everywhere for … oh wow, is that her?”

Oscar’s eyes go wide as they land on Maia, taking in her tiny features with an almost comical look of awe. “She’s … she’s so small,” he says dumbly.

“What did you expect, she’s a baby,” Lando scoffs with a roll of his eyes, though his tone is good-natured. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Oscar asks eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overexcited puppy.

You laugh and carefully transfer Maia into Oscar’s waiting arms, guiding his hands to properly support her head. “Just watch the grabby hands. She’s got a pretty strong grip these days.”

Oscar nods rapidly, looking a bit intimidated as he gingerly cradles Maia against his chest. But the instant she lets out a little gurgling coo, his face splits into the biggest, most boyish grin you’ve ever seen.

“Hey there, little Norris,” he murmurs softly, instantly transfixed. “I’m your favorite Uncle Oscar.”

“Oi, who said you get to be the favorite uncle?” Another voice cuts in as Carlos saunters over, immediately zeroing in on the form in Oscar’s arms. “Is that her? Dios mio, she’s gorgeous!”

Without hesitation, Carlos plucks Maia right out of Oscar’s hold, completely ignoring the other driver’s sputtering. “Well hello there, princesa. Don’t worry, your Tío Carlos has got you.”

Maia blinks up at the new face peering down at her, tiny fists waving as if to grab at the Spaniard’s perfectly coiffed hair. Carlos simply grins and nuzzles his nose against her cheek, seemingly not caring one bit about any damage the squirming infant in his arms can do.

“Are you seeing this?” Lando mock-whispers to you, looping an arm around your waist and leaning in conspiratorially. “How are we supposed to get her back now?”

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, watching in amusement as Carlos and Oscar descend into bickering over who Maia’s favorite uncle will be — only to be interrupted as another figure appears beside them.

“What do we have here?” Daniel Ricciardo pipes up with a wide grin, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “Don’t tell me you two are fighting over babysitting duties already?”

“Something like that, mate,” Lando chuckles, reaching out to clap Daniel on the shoulder in greeting. “Up for putting your name in the hat too?”

“You know it!” Daniel agrees easily, quickly sidestepping Carlos to peer down at Maia with a wide smile. “Hey there, little monkey. Look at you all bright-eyed and curious.”

Amazingly, Maia seems entirely unperturbed by all the fussing going on around her. She simply blinks placidly up at each new face, soaking it all in like a tiny sponge. At one point, she even lets out a delighted squeal and flails her arms — prompting a fresh round of cooing from the three drivers clustered around her.

“Aw, I think she likes me best already,” Daniel declares with a wink, gently booping Maia’s button nose and making her giggle.

You shake your head in fond exasperation even as Lando tugs you tighter against his side, completely content to bask in the scene. That is, until Daniel’s next words nearly make you choke.

“So just how old is this little angel?” He asks idly, eyes still trained on Maia’s sweet face. “Four months now?”

“Three months and one week,” Lando answers automatically — only to tense a split second later, mouth falling open in realization. “Oh. Oh.”

The smug grin that slowly spreads across Daniel’s face is borderline devlish as it clicks into place for everyone exactly when Maia would have been … well, conceived. A heavy silence falls over the group, disturbed only by Maia’s happy gurgling as she remains oblivious to the sudden shift.

“Well, well, well,” Daniel drawls, dark eyes dancing with mirth as he bounces Maia playfully in his arms. “I think someone got a little overexcited celebrating his win last year, didn’t he?”

The only response is a strangled squawk from Lando as his face flushes bright red — no doubt remembering exactly how the two of you celebrated his first time on top of the Formula 1 podium. Meanwhile, Carlos and Oscar openly gape at the revelation, eyes nearly bugging out of their skulls.

“Don’t you dare,” Lando manages to choke out, stabbing an accusatory finger in Daniel’s direction. “We are not having this conversation here.”

“Why not?” Daniel shrugs blithely, gently jostling Maia to the crook of his elbow in a way that has her giggling. “It’s a perfectly natural thing, nothing to be ashamed about. That must’ve been one hell of a victory lap!”

The innuendo hangs heavily in the air, made all the more mortifying by the lecherous waggle of Daniel’s eyebrows. Lando, meanwhile, looks like he’s two seconds away from spontaneously combusting on the spot.

“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters through gritted teeth, dragging a hand over his rapidly reddening face.

Before Daniel can respond with another quip, however, you quickly step in — scooping Maia out of his arms with a stern glare. “That’s enough of that, I think.”

Daniel wisely snaps his mouth shut at the warning in your tone, offering a cheeky salute instead. “I’ll lay off … for now.”

With a wink and a last jaunty grin towards a still-sputtering Lando, he bids the group farewell and heads off to prepare for the race. Oscar, seemingly remembering you’re all congregating in a very public place, manages to pick his jaw up off the ground long enough to clear his throat awkwardly.

“Right, well … I need to go, you know, do driver things,” he mumbles before beating a hasty retreat, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.

Carlos, for his part, has the audacity to start outright cackling the second Oscar is out of earshot.

“You never fail to entertain,” he manages between wheezing gasps, wiping away mirthful tears from the corners of his eyes.

Lando flushes even deeper, if possible, and shoots you a helpless look. You simply raise an eyebrow, letting him squirm for a moment before taking pity.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” you chide Carlos lightly, shifting Maia higher on your hip. “Unless you want to be the one explaining the birds and the bees to her when the time comes?”

That seems to sober Carlos up somewhat, his laughter trailing off into a few more chuckles as he waves a hand dismissively. “You wound me, amiga. As if I would corrupt the ears of such an innocent little one.”

You give him a pointed look and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

With a roguish wink, Carlos reaches out to gently pinch Maia’s cheek — earning a bright smile from the bubbly infant.

“You’ll learn soon enough that your papá can be un poco loco sometimes, princesa.”

“She really doesn’t need to learn that at all, thanks,” Lando grumbles, shooting his friend an exasperated glare.

You can’t help but shake your head fondly at the pair of them, even as Lando tucks you snugly against his side. For all their bickering, it’s abundantly clear just how enamored all the drivers are with Maia already.

The tender moment is interrupted, however, by a voice calling out for your boyfriend from across the paddock.

“Lando, we need you over in the garage. The parade will be starting any minute now,” a press officer arrives to herd him away.

Lando exhales a put-upon sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of Maia’s head before meeting your gaze apologetically. “Duty calls, I suppose. You’ll be okay here with my littlest fan club?”

You wave him off with a warm smile. “We’ll be fine. Just focus on having a good race, yeah? Maia and I will be cheering you on.”

The brilliant grin Lando flashes you is enough to make your heart flutter. “How could I do anything else with my two favorite cheerleaders?”

With one last lingering kiss, he tears himself away — offering a half-hearted wave to Carlos before disappearing through the paddock. An oddly serene quiet falls in his absence, the crowd breaking up to get settled before the race.

Carlos seems to sense your pensive mood, stepping up beside you to gently bump his shoulder against yours.

“You know, he really has changed since becoming a papá,” the older driver muses, casting a fond look down at Maia. “Far as I can tell, it’s done wonders for him.”

You smile softly, bouncing Maia gently as you watch Lando’s retreating back weave through the controlled chaos of the paddock. “He’s been … amazing. And he loves Maia more than life itself. My father complains that he has run out of things to threaten Lando over, which is the biggest compliment coming from him.”

Your daughter simply blinks at the two of you for a long moment before that sunny smile you’ve grown to adore stretches across her face, little fists waving happily in the air. You can’t help but chuckle at her antics, brushing a knuckle over her soft cheek.

As the bright Miami sun shines down and anticipation slowly builds in the background, you feel a surge of nearly overwhelming contentment. No matter what twists and turns life throws your way from here, you decide, you’ll always be able to find your way back to moments like this.

So much has changed in the course of a year, but you truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if Lando still can’t quite look your father in the eye.

[ssahotchnerr]

hey i tried to see if requests are open but can’t see anything, so hungover!reader x hotch? 🙏🙏

remedies

cw; fem bau!reader, drinking mentions, hangover talk and symptoms, fluff <3

There was a brief moment of peace when you stirred. Being pulled from such heavy sleep, a moment of solitude, before you met consciousness with excruciating pain. Regret was the next sensation to sweep through your body, until your awareness vaguely focused elsewhere. You either heard footsteps nearing, or it was the repetitive throb in your head.

Aaron had a key to your place and he had let himself in. You hadn't answered any calls or texts, and he was partially worried (he had known you were going out the night prior, and did return home safely). His concerned look turned to a sweetly pitiful one as he saw you lying there, hazily blinking up at him.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Aaron?" Your head rose, your voice hoarse as it exited your lips, your dry throat to blame. You cursed your hangover for dulling the usual excitement whenever you caught sight of him. "What're you doing here?"

"We had brunch plans."

Your brows scrunched in confusion, as well as your eyes as they attempted to adjust to the light. "What time is it?" You could've answered your own question by peering at the clock besides you, but you didn't dare turn your head. The more you moved, the worse.

Aaron checked his watch, moving his jacket sleeve to view it, "Half past noon."

At his words, your eyes widened. The sudden shock interfered with your head, causing the pounding to only elevate.

"Oh god I'm sorry." You facepalmed by use of your pillow, the momentary darkness enhancing the dizziness behind your eyelids. "I'm awful."

"I wouldn't go that far." Aaron teased lightly as he sat on the bed besides you, his hand finding your back and sliding his palm along it softly. "Crazy night with the girls?"

"Penelope tried- created a new concoction of drinks." A wave of nausea hit you from the memory, your stomach swirling. You scowled in disgust, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Aaron hummed in response, another pitiful smile tugging on his face as you groaned. He felt bad you felt bad. He's had his fair share of hangovers, sure, but never one at the hands of Penelope.

"I'm never drinking again." With all you had left in you, you forced your head to lift to defeatedly meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I did have an alarm set. Or... I think? I must've slept through it."

"No it's okay, I figured. Knowing them, we shouldn't have made plans for the following morning." He flashed you an understanding smile, his hand stopping and giving you an affectionate tap.

"Probably a good idea."

"I can take an accurate guess, but how are you feeling?"

"Like the jet ran me over."

"That bad?"

"Penelope called her drink moonlight mojito blitz." Again, you nearly gagged at the thought, Aaron himself made a face. "Or something of the sort. I don't know, it had a complex name one way or another."

"Lucky for you then, I have more simply named reinforcements ." Aaron offered, gesturing to your bedside table. "Gatorade, water, ibuprofen, which I'm judging by the strain on your face, you should take now." He reached for the container, dumping the tablets into his palm. "Down the hatch."

You weakly sat up against your pillow, holding out your own hand. As you did what you were told, he produced the Gatorade.

"Drink up."

You winced at the words, "I'm having flashbacks."

He laughed softly, the sound enough to soothe any hangover, or plainly anything. "Sorry, but I'm serious. You need the electrolytes, I won't allow dehydration if I can help it. You'll need to eat something too, but that can wait at least. Until-"

You finished for him, taking a generous sip. "Until the room stops spinning."

"That's right," Aaron offered you another small, closed lip smile. "Can I get you anything else?"

You peered up at him, playing up the hopefulness in your eyes. The visual was for effect really, you knew he would implement anything you asked, as he always did. "My favorite pillow?"

"Sure honey, where-"

"You." You grabbed his wrist, weakly tugging him towards you and trying your hardest to not let your grasp drop despite the downward, heavy pull. "You're my favorite pillow."

Aaron slid besides you easily, and before he was thoroughly comfortable or settled, were you clinging onto him. Your face buried itself into the skin of his neck, while one of your legs lazily draped over his waist. He molded just as equally into your body too.

Your head was still spinning - part of you feared it would never cease - but Aaron's contact allowed some sense of stillness. Like you weren't going to be picked up and somehow carried away; he would ensure you were close and grounded.

"Is this really all you need?" Due to your close proximity, you could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. "Can't I do anything more? Is the room too warm? Too bright?"

You shook your head, tightening your leg's hold on him. There was a playful tone in your voice, "I may need you to hold my hair back later."

"You say the most romantic things to me." Aaron chuckled, his lips tugging into a smile before pressing his lips atop your head. He quipped back gently, "Looking forward to it."

[theemporium]

blurb request for oscar - maybe he gets jealous/possessive and this is the first time you see this side of him

thank you for requesting! and thank you to @scuderiahoney for brainstorming with me since it's partially her fault i am writing oscar again!!🫶🏽

.

It genuinely didn’t bother him at first. Or at least, not that much.

He had noticed it. He would have been fucking blind to not notice it. In fact, he wasn’t the only one to notice it because Lando had brought it up to him. They had been walking through the paddock, making their way back towards the garage after a press conference when he spotted the two of you in the distance. 

“Does it not bother you?” Lando had asked, pausing whatever conversation they had been talking about to nod towards where you were standing. 

Truthfully, Oscar didn’t even need to follow his line of sight to know exactly what he was talking about. But he did anyway, maybe because some twisted part of him liked torturing himself that little bit more when he found you deep in conversation with one of the intern engineers—Oscar vaguely remembers his name being Greg or something along the lines.

“No,” Oscar told him, and it was only partially a lie. “She’s just talking to him.”

“They seem close,” Lando noted, glancing towards his teammate with a knowing look.

“I trust her,” Oscar had replied. And he did trust you. He trusted you irrevocably. He trusted you with his life and his heart. But that didn’t mean something deep in his stomach twisted whenever he saw you laughing away with Greg. 

“It’s not her I think you should worry about,” Lando muttered under his breath, but they had reached the garage by that point and the conversation never continued.

But despite his trust in you, he didn’t trust Greg—not one single fucking bit.

Because it wasn’t just a passing interaction or a budding friendship. It was starting to creep into something more, something so slow and subtle that maybe other people didn’t notice but Oscar fucking did. He noticed it every single time. 

The second he wasn’t by your side, Greg would jump in. The second he had to get in the car or talk to his team, it seemed like Greg had taken it upon himself to keep you company. The second you were in the paddock after not attending a few races, Greg would be greeting you like he hadn’t seen you in years. 

Oscar tried to push down the bitter feelings bubbling in his stomach. You didn’t look uncomfortable or bothered by Greg’s company, and the last thing he wanted to do was come off as some controlling, territorial boyfriend who dictated who you spoke to. If anything, it should have been reassuring to him that you were making friends in the paddock to spend time with when he was busy with the team. 

He just really wished it wasn’t Greg.

Yet, despite his restraint and promise to himself to keep his mouth shut as long as you were happy, Oscar could only be pushed so far before he snapped. 

It was a good race. In fact, it was a great fucking race. After what seemed like a disappointing qualifying that was setting up a shittier race, Oscar hadn’t had high hopes for the weekend. In fact, nobody in the team did—for either car. But it felt like something had just come alive in the car and the second the lights went out, there was a new buzz that had him speeding through the pack. 

It wasn’t a podium weekend, which was always a gutting occurrence. But ending the race in P4 was more than enough for Oscar when the team weren’t even sure if he would make it in the points. He was buzzed, he was on a high and he felt like some of the stress of this weekend had been taken off his shoulders. 

However, when he made his way back to the garage to celebrate with the team and you, he was confused when he was unable to find you the second he got out of the car. That confusion fizzled into something far more bitter and resentful when he noticed Greg huddled beside you, yapping your ear off as you stood there, nodding and smiling. 

He didn’t even realise he was making his way over until he had saddled up beside you, his arm curled around waist like the touch would ease some of the tightness in his chest.

“Sorry, mate, mind if I just steal my girlfriend for a second?” The words had left his mouth, but the usual friendliness was long gone. His words were sharp, blunt even. And he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment as he dragged you away before Greg even had the chance to open his mouth, his body working on pure muscle memory to lead you both to his driver room.

It hadn’t even hit him what he had done until the two of you were finally in the privacy of his driver room, the door locked and the rest of the world shut out. 

“Oscar,” you said his name and the tightness in his chest returned.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before you could even say anything more. “I just…he is always there. He is always fucking there and I just wanted you for myself just once. All I could think about since I crossed that line was hugging you and then I got out the car and I just saw him and—” 

But his rambles died on his tongue when he caught the way you were staring at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Oscar questioned, his brows furrowing together. “I just acted like a caveman and you’re smiling.”

“A caveman,” you repeated with a snort, shaking your head before you took a step closer to your boyfriend. “Well, caveman or not, I thought it was kinda hot.”

Oscar blinked. “Huh?”

However, you just shrugged your shoulders. “What? You’re always so calm and collected, it was nice seeing you get a little worked up.”

He watched your expression closely. “So, you’re not mad?”

Your face softened as you reached for the boy, winding your arms around his waist. “I’m not mad, Oscar. If anything, I’m more relieved. He was kinda annoying, like he never shuts up.”

Oscar let out a relieved breath, but his frown remained as he took your face in his hands. “You should have told me if he was bothering you.”

You shrugged again. “It didn’t seem worth the drama,” you admitted. “You should have told me if it upset you.”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a dick,” he confessed with a sheepish expression on his face. He paused for a moment before thinking better of it, pulling you against his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I promise I’ll tell you next time if you tell me too.”

“Deal,” you murmured as you sunk into his embrace. You waited a few moments, expecting the boy to pull away but he never did. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he spoke, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck. “Just…makin’ up for the lost time he stole from me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed innocently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured the boy, smiling a little when you felt a soft peck against your neck. “But I would really appreciate it if you could go shower first. You kinda stink.”

Oscar snorted. “Geez. Thanks.”

You grinned. “C’mon, caveman, the quicker you shower, the quicker I’ll hug you again.”

.

[causenessus]

Realizing He Loves You. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo, kenma

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: my loves get special treatment and all get a song or quote of their own again but just for fun </3 sideways by cleo sol

word count: 1922 words

summary: "when does he realize he loves you/what does he do to show that he loves you?"

little bit of crack? nekoma performs a psychology experiment (??) i just had a little bit of fun writing this and projecting onto like all of them <3 but i just love them all sm and i'm making up for not including kenma in my last post mb guys

akaashi

"don't shorten your speech. i love your details."

if you thought he paid attention to bokuto, you’re not ready for what he gives you

he gives you everything <3 anything you could ever ask for, he’ll get you it

he’s always hoping to see you, when he hears a door open, he looks up, hoping it might just happen to be you

it doesn’t click at first that he’s purposely looking out for you on instinct, but he starts to realize it as he finds himself orbiting around you more and more

he gives you his full attention whenever you say something, and if you get sidetracked or forget what you’re talking about, you best believe he remembers what you’ve already said and will try and prompt your memory by explaining what you’ve already told him

will also check in and remember things that you have said in the past, like you told him about a new book you were reading and the next time he sees you, he’ll ask you how it's going. or if you guys are too busy and he doesn’t ask you about it then, he’ll ask you about it another time he sees you. but either way, it always surprises you and touches your heart when he remembers <3

you best believe he’s always making time for you too

burst into the gym, his classroom, or bedroom and he’s already dropping everything for you

“keiji, you’ll never guess what happened!”

“what happened, love?”

the moment he probably fully realized how much he loved you was when he started holding your hands to stop you from picking at them

he’s always paying so much attention to you and he cares so much about you that he lovingly tries to stop you from habits like biting your nails or picking at your skin <3

he’ll notice that you’re doing it when you’re sitting beside him and with all the care in the world he’ll be gently holding your hands, running his own pretty fingers along them and rubbing them

you know he’s doing it to stop you and help you but you’ll pout, saying, “that’s not fair, keiji, you pick at your fingers too :( ”

but he’ll only smile as he takes his eyes off his fingers playing with yours to look at you, “i know. but you're not allowed to because i love you.”

bokuto

everyone adores you (at least i do)

he couldn’t stop talking about you

he didn’t do it on purpose, but genuinely just kept bringing you up to everyone because you’re his everything <3

he does it with such love and adoration, the biggest smile on his face that no one can say no to him or interrupt him, they just keep listening

in all sorts of conversations, he’ll find a way to bring you into it and people know that if he doesn’t have practice, there’s a 99% he’s with you (that 1% is simply when it’s absolutely impossible for him to be with you

if anyone ever asks him what he did over the weekend, he’s always mentioning you, “my weekend? oh, my girlfriend and I…” 

he has literally no reason to be vague he’s so proud of you and to be your boyfriend he’ll say it whenever he can <3

and just like how his his energy and determination is contagious on the court, so is his happiness when he talks about you

at some point someone on the team brought it up with a grin on their face to match his purely joyous one,

“man, you really love her, don’t you?”

he’d already thought about it a ton before, but to hear someone say it for the first time, it felt different

his face felt a little warm but he couldn’t help but nod,

“i do. i love her.”

oikawa

"jupiter couldn't keep me from you / oh, i'm yours."

he realizes it when seeing you makes him flustered and he can’t stop thinking about you

definitely talks about you a lot to anyone who he can get to listen

like it’s worse than bokuto

but it goes past that, you’re on his mind all the time, throughout his classes and afterschool

and this is NOT basic i swear let me explain

he’s smiling stupidly to himself all throughout the day, his head filled with moments he’s had with you

they’re just showing up in his head without him even trying but he’s not complaining

he’ll see you in the halls and he just can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face

he’ll be listening to songs and suddenly he’s relating them all to you, asap he started making a playlist for you as soon as he became the slightest bit interested in you, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you but at first he thought it was just normal

but then he’s there, helping clean the floors after volleyball practice and he’s in his own head, a lovesick smile on his face and his heart brimming with adoration for you

seijoh 4 is looking at the scene in confusion and worry, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the sight

“is he really that happy to be cleaning the floors?”

“maybe he’s imagining that his serve had hit kageyama in the face and not yahaba??”

“it irks me. trashykawa if you don’t wipe that stupid grin off your face–”

suddenly maki and mattsun are holding iwa back by the arms from marching over to the boy who's still stuck in his own world, smiling with a mop in hand

eventually maki pieces it together, the three of them approaching the boy once iwa has found the will to keep the rage inside again <3

“whose the lucky girl that’s got you smiling like that?” he asked with a taunting smile

to his surprise, tooru was completely transparent, no jokes or comebacks, a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he rested his chin on the handle of the mop with the same lopsided smile as always, “this girl i’ve been seeing…god, i think i love her.”

iwaizumi

"calling my lover 'mine' but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, 'mine' like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. 'mine' not like possession but devotion."

he realized he loved you when he found that he just wanted to do everything for you

the definition of “i know u can do it urself but let me spoil u <3”

he has a list of everything you like so that he always knew what to get you

he’s always coming up with special plans and gifts for anniversaries, birthdays and holidays

i just know he comes up with the best ideas

and i know everyone says this BUT HE’S SO walking on the open side of the sidewalk to guard you from passing cars omg <3

definitely a man whose skipping whatever he has going on that day to take care of you when you get sick or if you’re taking a mental health day

he just wants to make sure you’re completely taken care of and that you know how much you mean to him <3 he’s always reassuring you when you have even the slightest doubt that you are not and will never be an inconvenience or anything of the sort

is 100% holding your bag when you guys are walking at school

and ofc is holding your bags if you guys go out shopping is that even a question??

he’s always asking to take you out places and do something with you

unless you catch him in a gracious mood and give him three good reasons why he shouldn’t pay for something for you, you’re not winning

he’s paying and he’s happy to <3 if you’re really adamant about it, he’ll let you pay (sometimes) but will still try to get you to at least split it

he loves you so much he will give himself wholly to you whenever you ask for it

he can go from completely abusing oikawa to holding you so gently and speaking softly and lovingly in a split second <3

recovering from his beating, oikawa approached iwa again, as you left to take care of something else, “she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

iwa only continued to watch your leaving figure, “i guess so. but i’d burn the world for her if she asked.”

kuroo

"hold on. hold on. i have to protest. do you think i would choose to live without you?"

he shows how much he cares for you by always making you his first priority

he’s always with you and always on time for you

it didn’t really click with him at first but he realized he loved you when he was thinking so much about making sure you knew that you were cared for and that you deserved nothing short of the best, including a man that is always there for you

i feel like tetsuro (with love) is the type of man who shows up late to things unapologetically at least ever so often

but never when it comes to you

expect him to always be there on an agreed time if not earlier

as researchers (the nekoma volleyball team) found in their experiment (completely unbiased and empirical), by just saying that the group was going to hang out and that you were going to be there, he was guaranteed to show up on time. but any other time, if you weren’t involved, there was a chance he was showing up at least 10 minutes late

(kenma was most certainly their control group to see what tetsuro’s normal behavior was for the people closest to him <3)

when yamamoto presented these findings to tetsuro himself, he simply shrugged

“so you’ll show up completely ready, hair styled and all for her but when it comes to us you come looking like a tornado hit you in the two blocks it takes to get to the convenience store and it set you back like 10 minutes??”

“well duh, i love her, not you.”

kenma

"so you see her / she's over in the corner / and you can't ignore her / there must be a reason"

he realized he loved you when he noticed that he was always keeping an ear open to listen for you 

he’s not used to really working with others. like he’s either listened to (ie. brain of his team) or he’s working independently because he’s not going through the effort of putting up with people

you and kuroo on a good day are the exceptions

bc with you, it’s like he wants to hear from you

he doesn’t often love talking to people, and he hates when people interrupt him when he’s doing something, but when he’s playing games and you're around, he has one side of his headphones pushed behind his ear in case you say something to him

even before you guys were dating, when he sat next to you in class, because you sat to his left, he’d only put in his right earbud when he listened to music so he could hear you

and even when you guys are walking together, hand in hand, if he still has an earbud in, he makes sure to walk on the side of you that doesn’t have an earbud in <3

before practices have officially started, he’s completely unavailable and does not care for what anyone has to say to him

but then he sees you walking in and he’s got an earbud out or his headphones are pushed to the side immediately <3

kuroo notices this after some time and teased him about it, “oh? you never make an effort to listen to anything I have to say if you have your headphones on. does she mean that much to you?”

kenma didn’t even look up from his switch, but there was a small smile on his face at the question, “yeah, she does.”

[ellecdc]

hey, love! sooo i have a request (and im more than willing to wait for it, absolutely no rush). i'm having surgery in a couple weeks and it's nothing like life threatening or super serious but it's still a little scary and it's something that's going to make my very stubbornly independent self need to be dependent on other people for like two or three months. so i was wondering if you could do stubborn/independent reader in recovery, being taken care of by remus and or regulus cause i know they'd be very sweet and maybe a bit too helpful, like maybe reader even tries to do things that they aren't ready for yet because it's frustrating needing to rely on others but theres reassurance that it's fine to need help and it's better to take the help in order to have a quicker and better recovery. wanted to keep details vague so you can work your magic but i hope at least a little inspiring

lot of love!!! 🫶🫶🫶

best of luck with your surgery, love! hope it all goes well <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who is recovering from surgery not at all gracefully

CW: reader is stubbornly independent, discussion of surgery/post-op aftercare/stitches and incisions, fluff and comfort

By some absolute twist of fate, you’d actually been left alone for the first time in nearly five days.

You were unbelievably thankful for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends and the amount of care they treated you with.

But however thankful you were for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends, you were also quite fed up with their coddling. 

You’re not sure what exactly it was that finally got them to leave you alone; it could have been your sharp tone when you told Regulus you didn’t want your pillows fluffed again, or the withering glare you gave Remus when he poked his head in to ask if you needed “anything else at all, sweet girl”, but you were almost certain it was when you finally dissolved into frustrated tears.

And so, five days after your appendectomy, you were finally, blissfully alone. 

You had tissues on the bed beside you, the largest bottle of water Regulus could find on the bedside table, your books, the TV remote, and some crisps at your disposal. 

It was heavenly.

But you know what would be even better? Ice cream. 

In the two days you spent in hospital following your procedure, Regulus had to have spent nearly half your monthly rent on food, snacks, blankets, and other “post-surgery supplies” - which included the largest refillable water bottle you’d ever seen in your entire life. 

It also included ice cream. 

And while the boys had left the majority of your post-surgery supplies within your reach upon their retreat from your bedroom, ice cream could not, for obvious reasons, be left in your bedroom for your easy access.

But what were you going to do? Call them? Ask them to come bring you ice cream? And have to live with their smug ‘haha, see, you do need us’ faces? Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. 

It had been four days since your surgery which left you with perhaps nothing more than a few teeny incisions along your stomach that they slapped a measly piece of tape over to keep shut - like hell that was going to slow you down. 

So, you pushed your blankets off yourself with minimal effort. You took a deep breath and held it as you swiveled your hips so that your legs were hanging off the bed, letting it out as you twisted your torso to realign your body correctly. Not so bad, right?

You braced yourself again as you slid slowly off the bed, once again letting a lung-full of air out as your feet hit the ground.

Feeling quite chuffed at your accomplishment and unjustifiably confident that the hardest part was now over, you started on your task of retrieving ice cream. 

You reminded yourself as you shuffled down the hallway that the doctor had said that walking each day was in fact good for your recovery, though you were certain that supporting yourself along the wall and unsupervised isn’t exactly what she had in mind when she gave you those instructions.

No matter, you were completely capable!

So capable.

The most capable.

And a measly case of stairs wasn’t going to change that. 

You tried to recite the aftercare instructions the doctor had given you prior to being discharged, though you were admittedly still feeling a little drowsy at the time and it had been Remus who took dutiful notes as Regulus packed your bag.

Staring at the case of stairs that threatened your master plan of retrieving your well-deserved ice cream - in your most humble opinion, you did sacrifice an organ for it - you decided that if you couldn’t remember the doctor saying no stairs, that stairs were probably fine.

Likely fine.

Mostly fine.

Except the very first step you took had you flinching at the sensation of the tape tugging uncomfortably at your skin.

But once your other foot joined your first on the step, the feeling went away.

Okay, see? That was fine.

Not so bad.

Now you just have to do that… thirteen more times.

Thirteen…that felt like a lot.

But you weren’t supposed to look at obstacles in terms of wholes; you just needed to look at the next step.

Which was exactly one step.

You had already taken a step! Surely you could take one more!

Except a small whimper escaped your lips as you took your next step, your second foot joining the first rather quickly and clumsily in a hasty attempt to relieve you from the tugging of your taped up abdomen. 

You had managed to wash, rinse, and repeat those steps for exactly six stairs before you started to wonder if the ice cream was really actually worth ripping your stomach back open. 

You were eight steps away from the lower level of your townhouse, and six steps from the upper level where your salvation came in the form of your bedroom. 

You had three options here:

1) Continue in your trek down the rest of the eight steps to your ice cream - dreams of ever returning to your bed be damned 2) Retreat to the safety of your bedroom and figure out how to haul yourself up onto the mattress  3) Ask for help 

Still feeling rather petulant over the fact that you were very close to having to live through Remus and Regulus’ “I told you so” faces, you opted for option two, and pivoted on the stair in an attempt to retreat back to your bedroom. 

Which would have been fine if the action of lifting your leg didn’t actually leave you feeling like the rest of your organs were about to spill out onto the staircase (which was very dramatic considering you weren’t even sure you could fit your own finger into the tiny holes dotting your abdomen if you tried; but that’s how it felt, okay?) 

So, in the face of failure, you opted to choose a secret fourth option:

4) Sit on the staircase in defeat and accept your fate (death, probably) 

“I’ll check, but if she throws a book at my face, you’re in charge of dinner.” You heard Remus call as he rounded the corner and started for the stairs. 

You had your forehead resting on the spindles of the railing and watched as Remus made it up the first section of stairs to the landing before pausing when he turned and noticed you.

“Dovey! Are you okay?” He whispered in abject horror, bending down (causing his knees to crack audibly which made you feel even more wretched for worrying him) as he considered you.

“I’m fine.” You whined, hoping to gain some sympathy in your current state.

“What are you doing here?!” He continued, rubbing his thumb along your shoulder. 

“Wanted ice cream…” You admitted rather reluctantly; shame prickled at your skin as Remus paused in his movements and his expression shifted from worry to one of shock. 

His mouth flattened into a terse smile. “You’re kidding me.”

‘I really, really wish I was’ you thought to yourself.

Apparently, your response read loud and clear on your face as he let out a tired sigh. “Reg!”

You felt your own expression morph from shame to one of betrayal. “Now, why would you do that!?”

Remus barely had a chance to roll his eyes at you as Regulus appeared around the corner. 

“Mon Dieu! Ce qui s’est passé?! Are you okay!?” He exclaimed as he spotted you sitting dejectedly on the stairs. 

“I’m fine.” You answered at the same time Remus replied “She’s stuck.”

“What were you doing?” Regulus asked again, looking between you and Remus in bemusement. 

“Being a brat.” Remus hissed quietly; his tone bordering frustration in a way you weren’t accustomed to being directed at you even as his touch remained loving and dutiful. 

Horrified, you felt your sinus’ fill painfully as you hid your face between the spindles of the railing, blocking both boys from your view. 

“I’m tired of being useless.” You whispered; your voice pinching audibly as your words nearly got stuck in your throat. 

Remus let out a sigh as he let his one hand slide from your shoulder down to your hand, and the other rubbed at your knee affectionately. 

“You’re not useless, mon amour; you’re recovering.”

“From a pretty major surgery, at that.” Remus added, earning him a derisive scoff from you.

“It’s not major surgery! It’s  a very routine procedure and it barely left a mark on me.” You spat; recounting the doctors words from before your surgery nearly word for word. 

“Ça suffit. An entire organ tried to kill you, amour, and it had to be removed.” Regulus offered.

“It was a stupid organ that we don’t even use anymore.” You added petulantly. 

“And it was ripped from you nonetheless, dove. Listen,” Remus continued, taking your chin in his hand and directing your eyes back to him. “I know, I know you hate feeling reliant on us, and I also know that we like letting you rely on us perhaps a bit too much.” He paused to raise his eyebrows at you and you took in a shuddering breath. “But I think right now is one of those times you have to let us.” 

You let an embarrassing sound escape the back of your throat as you tried to avert your gaze, but Remus strengthened his hold on your chin. 

“You have to let us, baby.” He whispered again. 

“My love, if you insist on doing things before you’re ready, you’re only going to hurt yourself which is going to mean you have to rely on us even longer.” Regulus continued as he sat beside you on the step, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your neck. 

“You wouldn’t want that now, would you?” Remus asked teasingly; one corner of his lips tilting upwards and pulling at the scar that you loved to watch dance across his face when he was most expressive. 

You lifted your hand to run your finger along it, delighting in the slight blush that flooded Remus’ cheeks as he closed his eyes and relished in your touch. 

“Qu’est-ce que tu voulais?” Regulus asked you then.

You let out a sigh in resignation and tilted your head to rest on Regulus’ shoulder. “Ice cream.”

Your head jostled from the gentle chuckle that left Reg at your admission as Remus beamed at you. 

“Well, why didn’t you just ask?” He teased as he stood quickly - telling yourself that you weren’t jealous at all by his ability to move quickly and freely. “Wanna help our princess back to bed, my love?” Remus asked Regulus who was already standing and offering you his hands. 

They both helped you stand and allowed you a moment to catch your breath and confirm you were alright before Regulus moved two steps below and got into position to give you a piggy-back-ride.

Remus waited until the two of you got to the top of the stairs safely before hurrying to the kitchen to procure your long awaited ice cream. 

What would have likely taken you all day (had you been successful in your venture) took Regulus and Remus perhaps six and a half minutes before the three of you were propped up in your bed, each with a bowl of ice cream as Remus queued up your favourite movie. 

“Merci, amour.” Regulus whispered into your hair before pressing a kiss to your head.

“What for?” You asked.

He smiled softly at you as he examined your face. “For letting us love on you.” 

“It really is our favourite, you know?” Remus added.

And fortunately for you, you did know.

[miru667]

The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!

Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!

Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:

Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP

Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆

Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:

-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now

-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment

-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)

-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe. You guys can pretend the arms holding the phone is Miss Funce-ler.

-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.

-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:

This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔

So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]

What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, the fact that I was able to include every truffula colour, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊

That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!

[haetrack]

self control (m)

jung jaehyun x f!reader x mark lee

wc: 7.8k

warnings: smut (MDNI), fwb!jaehyun, mark has a crush on reader, fingering, light exhibition, light voyeurism, implied masturbation (male), threesome, oral (both receiving), doggy style, unprotected sex, reader is on the pill, jaehyun pushes mark around, possessiveness, barely there spanking, multiple orgasms, dom!jaehyun, switch!reader, switch!mark

a/n: this has been stuck in my head for so long and thinking abt jaehyun scares me bc i want him so bad. anyways i hope u find this a little hot… i did…

to say that you had an… interesting relationship with mark lee would be an understatement.

the shy glances, flushed cheeks, his stutters that come out while you both talk. it would be obvious to anyone that he has somewhat of a crush on you. you can see it too, but it’s not something you really want to acknowledge yet. you wouldn’t say there’s an obstacle in the way because that would be a little mean, but there is definitely a problem.

your friend (with benefits) happens to be one of mark’s own friends, jung jaehyun. to say the least, he’s certainly just a man. blissfully unaware of the tension between you and mark, oblivious to how he seems to ward away mark from coming near you. you can’t say it’s just jaehyun’s fault though, you don’t tell him to mind his business when mark tries to talk to you, you don’t shoo him away when he wraps an arm around your waist in front of mark.

it’s one night where you both are at a party, whispering in each other's ears. you’ve been teasing each other all night, no one making any moves to see who breaks first. it’s not until jaehyun tells you how mark is looking at the both of you, wishing that he could be the one next to you right now. you drag jaehyun to a bedroom upstairs, not missing how mark’s eyes follow the two of you. 

so maybe jaehyun isn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“have you noticed how mark’s been staring at you more?” jaehyun questions, fiddling with the vinyl player in his room. 

you pointedly glare at the back of his head, “mmm, not really? what do you mean?” 

“the times i’ve invited you to come and hangout, he always just seems to be looking at you,” he finishes cleaning up his vinyl player, moving to choose an album from his vast collection.

you hum, seemingly uninterested, “at the party you did tell me that he was staring at us.”

his eyebrows furrow, “not at us. at you. he was staring at you.”

as much as you want to look disinterested, you can’t help the large grin that forms, “are you jealous, jaehyun?”

he huffs, messing with the needle of the player before the familiar tune of a frank ocean album begins, “not jealous. not when only i get to have you in my room like this.”

he moves to where you’re laying on his bed, a teasing smile adorned on your face. you move from your spot to kiss him, but he pins you back down, giving you a kiss of his own. his body moves to hover over yours, deepening the kiss, pulling away when you need a breath, “i’ll make sure mark never gets to have you fully like this. i’ll put him in his place if i need to.” 

after jaehyun successfully makes you cum on his fingers, he lets you know of his plan. you give him a questioning look, but all he responds with is a proud smile on his face. ���like i said,” he runs his fingers along your sides, “i want him to see what i do for you.”

as if he could be any more vague, he refuses to answer your question, deciding to cradle you in his arms instead. it’s not that you mind, but his words could mean literally anything. you think it’s quite obvious what kind of relationship you and jaehyun have, so what more needs to be shown? you have your question answered when your over at johnny’s apartment with a few other friends. on your way there, jaehyun tells you that mark is going to be there, and you just playfully roll your eyes at him.

“you seem too excited about this,” you hum.

“i have about fifty things i could do with you tonight, of course i’m excited,” he says, subtle excitement in his voice.

his words leave your mind when you approach mark while everyone argues about what movie to watch. mark didn’t join the arguing, choosing to sit back and watch everyone while laughing at their words. he promptly shuts his mouth when he sees you coming his way. you greet him, and he smiles at you, nervously laughing.

“can’t believe how you guys can get along so well when you argue like this over a movie,” you laugh.

mark clears his throat before speaking, “yeah, um, they’re always like this. i just got so used to it because i realized how funny it gets.”

at his words, you turn and see jaehyun criticizing every movie that is recommended, but when they ask him what to watch, he just stands there, mouth hanging open. you turn to look at mark, which causes both of you to burst out laughing. at the sound of your laugh, jaehyun whips his head around and sees the two of you hunched together. he doesn’t look angry, but there’s definitely an off-putting smile on his face.

in the corner of your eye, you can see mark straighten up at the sight of jaehyun. before jaehyun can turn around, you lean slightly into mark’s side, seeing how far you can push jaehyun. he just turns the other way.

they decide on a random avengers movie that you don’t really know. you don’t care, as you sit with jaehyun and mess with his fingers. you see that mark has moved closer to the tv, probably more interested in the movie than anyone else. he’s on a different couch than you and jaehyun.

the only reason you’re not asleep like almost everyone else is is due to the fact that around halfway through, jaehyun drapes a blanket over the both of you. it’s subtle, looking like you were just cold. you know what jaehyun really wants when he puts a hand on your thigh and squeezes. you try to send a pointed glare at him, but he’s making sure everyone is asleep or on their phones. you notice mark is the only one really paying attention.

he trails his hand higher on your thigh before whispering in your ear, “pay attention to the movie. try not to make too much noise, pretty girl.”

once his words register in your head, you realize that he wants you to make just a little noise. connecting the dots, you realize he wants mark to hear you in order to get him to look at you. he wants mark to see how good he’s making you feel.

heat rushes all over your body at the realization, and it only intensifies when jaehyun’s hand slides under the waistband of your pants. you give him one last pleading look before you try to focus on the screen in front of you. his hand cups your warmth, feeling the small patch of wetness already formed. out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

you become hyperaware of yourself when he starts rubbing your clothed clit, one of your hands moving under the blanket to grip onto his arm. you let out a shaky breath when he pulls your panties aside for better access. you didn’t realize how wet you were, not until he puts a finger inside with ease.

a small, broken whimper escapes you as he plunges his finger in and out of you, his palm rubbing your clit with the movement. you spread your legs more open, silently telling him you needed more. he complies, satisfied with your cooperation. he whispers to you one more time, “my baby is doing so good for me. so dirty, getting herself off in front of all these people. in front of mark.” 

a whine escapes you before you can stop it, and you shove your face into jaehyun’s shoulder out of embarrassment. with you no longer looking around, he decides to move his fingers faster, making sure to curl them to hit that spot inside of you. you’re clenching tightly around his fingers, his hand slick with how wet you are. you keep making small noises, small slips of his name falling from your mouth.

moving his eyes towards the screen so that mark is in his peripheral, he continues. jaehyun wouldn’t normally do this, putting you on display for just anybody. he’s doing it because he knows mark wants you, thinking he could just take you away from him. his competitiveness comes roaring its head, having to show mark who you need more.

when a slightly loud whimper escapes you, jaehyun can see marks vision pulling away from the tv, looking back at you first. jaehyun moves to grab his phone, seemingly unconcerned. he can still see mark, him looking worried for you. it’s not until mark sees movement under the blanket, your face shoved into jaehyun’s side, and a small smile on jaehyun’s face that he’s able to piece it together.

jaehyun can tell you’re about to cum, your hips moving against his fingers. all while mark doesn’t turn to look away from the sight of you. you’re letting out small, jumbled words along the lines of please, need to cum, jaehyun please, hurry. jaehyun could never deny you, so he places a kiss on the top of your head and sighs out, “go ahead and cum for me, pretty.”

you let out a muffled moan, jaehyun lightly shushes you as you let go, cumming over his fingers. he helps you ride out your orgasm while mark rushes off down the hall to the bathroom. jaehyun chuckles down at the sight of you, all mussed up. once you come down from your high, you send him a pointed stare, “you’re such a jerk.”

he pulls his hand out from under the blanket up to his mouth, cleaning his fingers off from your cum. “i think mark saw us, he ran off to the restroom,” you gape at him, “think if you walked past the restroom you could probably hear him getting off to the thought of you right now.”

as much as you try to not let your curiosity get the best of you, you can’t help it. you reach over to johnny and ask if you could borrow a charger for your phone. he says there’s one in his room, that you could use it there. you thank him as you make your way down the same hallway, tiptoeing by the restroom. you carefully press your ear to the door. you can hear a low groan of your name followed by a whispered feels so good- fuck, please. 

your face feels warm as you go and grab the charger, moving away from the pretty sounds that mark’s making.

the first time you see mark after the incident at johnny’s apartment, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

well, he could, but it was followed by a light blush coating his cheeks. it’s a rare scene to see you at a party without jaehyun attached to your side, but mark doesn’t really mind. he doesn’t feel too nervous, but the image of you cumming has been replaying in his head. he can’t mess this up, can’t let go of this opportunity with just you alone.

“so, where are your friends?” you ask mark, sipping on the drink you’re holding.

“i’m just waiting for them, they should be coming soon.”

you hum, “wished you could’ve kept me more company, mark. i like being with you.”

“y-yeah? i like being with you- like, i mean, just us two.”

“better without jaehyun, huh?” you provoke him. he laughs and looks away, too embarrassed to admit the truth. it’s not like he’s scared of jaehyun, it’s more of… a respect thing? he’s not really sure if you two are dating or just have something going on, but he doesn’t want to intrude. but he can’t really help it, not when you’re you.

he’s known you for a while now, and even then, it was jaehyun who introduced you both. the way you look at him, the way you always seem to know what you want, your presence alone makes him think of you. but every time he tries to get close to you, there’s jaehyun, attaching himself to your side. even now, mark’s eyes occasionally drift to the door to see if jaehyun’s walked in.

you lean into his side, whispering into his ear, “i think i like us alone like this, too.”

you see a pretty shade of pink wash over his face, leaning more into his side. he looks down, and you look like how you were during the movie night. this time though, you’re by his side, not jaehyun’s. he tentatively wraps an arm around your side, trying to will his hands not to shake. there you both are, at the corner of the room, just like how he always sees you.

he hears you softly call his name, and while looking at you, he sees an almost hazy look on your face. he realizes how warm you feel, looks at how you glance down to his lips, back up to his eyes. you look so tempting, there’s so many things he wants to do with you. before he can turn you against the wall to kiss you, he sees the door open out of the corner of his eye. there’s jaehyun, staring at the both of you.

against his own will, he pulls away from you. you smile back up at him before turning to jaehyun, who motions for you to join him upstairs. “maybe next time you’ll be able to join us, mark.”

before he can say anything else, you say, “promise.”

he nods and you walk away from him, weaving through other people. you wave at him before you disappear, and he’s once again alone, waiting for his friends. he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, wishing once again that he was the one leading you upstairs. he can feel his self control slip away.

he downs all of the drink in his cup, the concoction too strong and burns going down his throat. he waits a bit before stalking up the stairs, finding the room you two were in. his hand reaches for the doorknob, but ultimately decides to stop when he hears the tailend of your conversation.

“...imagine if mark was outside the door, so desperate to hear your sounds,” mark hears a small whimper come out of you, “he’d be so hard, wishing he was the one who had you like this.”

the conversation ends, both of you too busy with one another to continue thinking about mark. mark can feel himself getting hard in his suddenly too tight pants. he brings a hand down to the front of his pants and squeezes, begging his mind and heart to stop racing. he can’t let this keep happening to him.

the next time you see mark, it’s a surprise for you and jaehyun. you’re both lounging around in your apartment, too lazy to actually do anything. as you’re scrolling through videos on your phone, you get a text.

mark: yoooo

mark: i was just wondering if you were busy or anything

you smile. and jaehyun, being too nosy for his own good, asks who just texted you. you quickly show him the messages you got from mark and jaehyun looks just as giddy as you. you type out that jaehyun is with you at your apartment.

mark: oh haha

mark: i wanted to see if you were alone

you: jaehyun says its fine with him if you want to come over

he doesn’t text back after that, so you assume that he’s given up on meeting with you. you assume he wanted to see if you really meant what you said at the party. you didn’t tell jaehyun what happened, but he did see you two together. it only makes it more exciting that there’s a small secret between the two of you. a few more minutes pass, and you don’t expect anything anymore.

it’s not until you hear a knock at the door that you sit up. jaehyun looks at you, and you tell him to go somewhere else. he sulks at you, but he obliges, opting to move to the bathroom. you calm yourself down before opening the door, seeing an almost apologetic-looking mark. it’s almost apologetic, save for the small twinge of emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“sorry for coming unannounced, i just wanted, um, to talk to you, i guess.”

“yeah, of course, come right in.” you let him inside, beckoning for him to sit on the couch with you. he looks a little hesitant before sitting down, opting to sit as furthest as he can from you. 

“so… where’s jaehyun?

“in the restroom, he’ll probably be back in a bit,” you say, and he nods to your words. it feels awkward, and you’re not someone who gets awkward easily. mark turns to look at you, opens his mouth, and closes it. you laugh a little, “take a deep breath, mark. it’s just you and me in here.”

and jaehyun, mark thinks stubbornly to himself. he does take a breath, and faces you once more. it’s just you two, and the sight of you encourages him to continue. “i wanted to talk about what you said at the party,” he says, with no nervousness present in his voice, “just some clarification.”

“i meant everything i said, mark. i like being with you, even if it’s not always us alone.”

before he can respond to you, the bathroom door opens, and jaehyun walks over as if mark wasn’t sitting entirely too close to you (read: on the other side of the couch). mark looks back down to his lap, now too nervous with jaehyun’s presence. “how have you been, mark? haven’t seen you since the party the other night.”

jaehyun sits close to you, one hand making its way to your thigh, squeezing lightly. mark looks at the hand before looking to jaehyun, “i’ve been fine. just, kinda, wanted to talk to… to the both of you?”

“oh yeah? about what?” jaehyun says, a certain smugness in his voice that only you can detect. his hand moves across your skin, thumb rubbing the inner part of your thigh. you shudder, and mark doesn’t miss it.

“yeah, just about, like, the two of you?”

“well, can i be honest?” jaehyun starts, and you know he’s about to say something crazy, “to me, it looks like you like my pretty baby here.”

mark gapes at his words, mouth opening to stutter out denials and apologies. before he can do that though, jaehyun drags you fully onto his lap, pushing apart your legs with his own. mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of you, so pliant against jaehyun’s rough actions. “i saw you the other night, saw how you looked at her while she was cumming on my fingers.”

mark doesn’t say anything as he watches jaehyun drag his hands close to your core, stopping close to the place where you need him most. you squirm in his hold, a whimper threatening to slip out of your lips. you open your eyes to look at mark, finding he was already staring at you. the pink on his cheeks tells you all you need to know. he likes this.

“if you don’t want to see me get her off, you can leave. what do you think, baby?”

you whine, “i want mark to stay, want him to see me like this. want him, jaehyun.”

mark’s breath hitches, too affected by your words already. jaehyun chuckles lowly, and you feel the low vibrations against your back, “can’t believe you’re begging for another man when i’m right here,” he presses a kiss to the side of your face, “guess you’re gonna have to stay here, mark.”

you whisper out a please to him, and mark can’t say no, not when you’re looking at him with such need in your eyes. he’ll do anything in order to touch you, to feel you. “y-yeah, no, i-i’ll stay.”

“you can’t touch until either of us say you can,” jaehyun says while moving to rest on the arm of the couch, pulling you along with him, “gonna have to learn how to make my baby feel good, right?”

mark nods along, mind moving too fast to properly respond.

jaehyun pulls down your shorts, leaving you in just your panties and the loose shirt you have on. mark takes it all in, takes in how you’re already soaked through your panties, waiting so patiently to be touched, “my baby always gets so wet, she can’t hide how bad she wants you.”

before you can start whining louder, he circles his thumb over your clit, a moan cutting you off. jaehyun scoffs, “guess she needs two people to make her satisfied.”

mark’s breath gets heavy as he sees you writhing around in pleasure only from light touches. how badly he wants to reach and take over, giving you everything that you need. jaehyun doesn’t follow that line of thought, taking his time and dragging it out. “please, jaehyun. need you to touch me already, need you so bad-”

“what do you think, mark? do you think my baby should get what she wants?”

and for the first time, mark speaks up, “t-touch her already, she’s asking so nicely.” you thank him loudly when jaehyun moves to take off your panties. you look at him differently than how you usually do, your teasing eyes that are usually filled with confidence as you talk to mark. but here, your eyes are filled with compliance and neediness.

mark can now see your glistening folds, how you clench around nothing when you spot him staring. if it were up to him, he’d already have his hands and mouth on you. but with jaehyun here, he has to sit and watch, gripping onto his thighs, hoping he’ll get a chance to touch you.

jaehyun leans down to whisper something in your ear, causing you to nod fervently at his words. “my baby wants you to eat her out. think you can do that, mark?”

mark nods slowly. jaehyun moves to have you both seated properly on the couch, mark moving to sit on his knees on the floor. you’ve thought of the sight of him on his knees for you too many times since you heard him in the bathroom that night. to finally get to see him like this, just for you, has you letting out a small whimper.

mark takes the sight of you in, having you like this in real life better than anything he could’ve imagined. he scoots towards you, so close you can feel the heat of his face on you. he reaches forward, his tongue licking up your wet slit. “jesus, so fucking sweet, so wet.”

before you can register his words, his thumbs move to open up your cunt before he dives in, mouth everywhere he can reach. he slurps up the slick at your entrance, tongue prodding at the tight hole. he wonders if he’ll be able to fuck you, wonders if you’ll clench tightly around his cock like you’re doing with his tongue.

he moves up to suck on your clit, two fingers moving to your entrance. through your bleary eyes, you can see mark silently asking if he can finger you. he looks desperate through his hooded eyes, and if you focus a little harder, you can see how he’s straining against his shorts. you nod desperately, and mark responds by sliding his fingers slowly in, the feeling of your tight walls too much for his mind.

mark can’t really tell what he’s doing. it’s like he’s having an out of body experience, the sweet taste of your cunt being the closest thing to heaven. he can hear how messy he sounds eating you out, the squelch of his fingers moving inside you, the wet sound of his tongue sliding against you. it’s all too much, your mouth babbling out incoherent sentences to mark as he indulges in you.

you can feel yourself getting closer, every part of your body feels sensitive to the touch. you can feel the hard grip mark has on your thighs, hearing the small groans and whimpers he lets out from your sweet pussy. you can feel how jaehyun is hard behind your back, he softly presses into you, body betraying him. the warmth of their two bodies against you only spurring you on more.

“i’m gonna cum, needa cum so bad. please, jaehyun! can mark make me cum?”

you can hear mark groan out a jesus before jaehyun responds, “i don’t know if you deserve it, pretty girl. do you?”

“please! been so good, i’ll be so good. just need to cum-” your begging breaks off into a loud moan as mark digs his face as close as possible into your pulsing pussy, affected by the sweet sound of your voice. jaehyun tries not to smile at the sight of the two of you, so desperate to get each other off. “i guess you can cum. mark is just gonna have to put in more work.”

if mark’s mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, he’d definitely groan in annoyance at jaehyun’s words. he tries not to care though, because it’s his mouth that’s getting you off, not jaehyun’s. he wonders if jaehyun even does this for you, and if he does, mark knows he’s better than him. his thoughts are cut off by the harsh grip of your hands in his hair, pulling him close as you try to cum.

“i’m cumming! please- please d-don’t stop!”

as if he would ever deny you. he sucks at your clit, fingers prodding at the sweet spot inside of you as your thighs close around his head. mark feels how your body needs him, and it only pushes him further. he hears how you moan out his name as your hips grind against his face. he has to tell himself not to cum untouched like this, not to embarrass himself in front of you.

he helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your slit as he removes his fingers from you. you almost want him to keep going, not minding the slightly painful stimulation turning into pleasure. it’s not until jaehyun reaches over and threads his hands in mark’s hair, forcibly pulling him away from you. as much as you want to scold jaehyun for interrupting you, it’s more hot than anything seeing him so jealous.

mark sends jaehyun a challenging look, a small smirk playing on his face as jaehyun sweetly smiles back. how jaehyun can pretend to be so innocent baffles him, but mark lets it happen, more curious as to what will happen next.

“i don’t know about you, mark, but i’m gonna take her to the bedroom so i can fuck her,” you hit his chest at his vulgar words and he just laughs, “don’t know if my pretty girl would want you to join us.”

you look over to see how mark has reacted to his words, only to find mark staring back at you already. his eyes are pleading, hands gripping his thighs as you can see the noticeable bulge in his shorts. “mark helped me cum, wanna help him cum too, jaehyun.”

mark lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while jaehyun contemplates on what to do. when he comes to a conclusion, he nods to himself while getting up, offering a hand to help you up. you both begin to move to your bedroom while mark just sits there, waiting for what to do. “are you coming, mark, or are you gonna keep her waiting?”

he rushes to catch up the both of you, seeing how you’re already laying in bed with jaehyun once again behind you. mark tries not to let it get to him, but jaehyun always manages to be right fucking next to you all the time. mark stands awkwardly at the door, not really knowing what to do. he feels your eyes staring at his bulge, his hands moving to cover himself as if he didn’t just eat you out.

“so here’s what going to happen,” jaehyun starts, looking at your body laid against him, “she wants you to fuck her, but i’ll leave it up to her if she wants you raw or not.”

mark has to stop the gasp trying to come out of his mouth. he never thought that he’d even get to fuck you, but now there’s a possiblity that he’ll get to fuck you raw? all he can do is nod at jaehyun’s words and look at you dazedly, tongue wetting his lips.

“come here, baby. come over to me.”

as far as mark knows, you don’t call jaehyun baby. the petname has his mind reeling, body unknowingly moving towards you. he sits at the edge of your bed, admiring the look of your body only covered in a t-shirt. he trails a hand up your thigh and sees out the corner of his eye that jaehyun’s watching him carefully. “will you take off your clothes for me? let me see all of you?”

mark mutters a small fuck as he turns away from you to undress. jaehyun has never seen you like this, more in control over mark. he lets it happen, doesn’t scold you for trying to take over. he can see how focused you are on watching mark, sees how your eyes glaze over at the lines in his back and when he slowly turns around.

mark’s cock slaps against his abdomen when he pulls his boxers down. his tip is red and leaking, and if it weren’t for the promise of fucking him, you would’ve already had your mouth on him. he makes his way over to you, kneeling down in front of your body. you sit up, hand reaching over to lightly stroke his cock. his hips jut forward as a small whine leaves his mouth, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“please, don’t tease me. i’ve been hard for so long i- i just need you already.”

his words knock the breath out of your lungs as you sit up to deeply kiss him. he moans into it, cups your face into his hands as he pulls you closer. jaehyun watches silently behind you both, watching how mark grinds his cock into your lower belly. jaehyun’s own hand moves to palm himself over his boxers, liking how you’re enjoying yourself.

it isn’t until he starts getting annoyed with how mark looks like he’s enjoying himself too much to where he drags you back down by the hip. you lay over his lap once more, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he gives you an innocent-looking smile as you roll your eyes in return. you shift up a little, looking back at mark.

he’s looking at you again, your swollen lips, your glistening folds. he then focuses on your covered chest, eyes glazed over, wondering how your boobs look. you smirk a little, before shifting to pull off your shirt. he groans when he sees how you weren’t wearing a bra the whole time. his hands automatically move to touch you, but jaehyun immediately stops him with, “can’t touch her, not until we say.”

“but i-”

“be patient, baby. i’ll let you touch as long as you’re good for me.”

you can see how hard mark gulps at your words, his cock twitching in response. he shifts closer to you, hips flush with yours. he’s staring hard, eyes moving to take in the sight of you. you’re getting impatient, the feeling of his cock so close to you proving to be too much.

before anything though, you beckon him down to you, whispering in his ear, “i’m on the pill, baby. i’ll let you cum in me.” 

you can hear how his breathing picks up at the small exchange of words. his hands grab onto your thighs, moving one up to hook around his waist. he teases his head along your slit, holding back a whimper that threatens to come out of him. you squirm under him, pulsing around nothing as you wait for him to enter you.

“better hurry up, mark. if you don’t fuck her right now, i’ll just do it for you.” mark ignores his words, giving you one last look before he slowly pushes into you. you both moan in unison, your warm walls wrapping around his thick cock. you move your other thigh to his waist in order to push him into you more, causing his hips to stutter against you.

he’s trying hard to keep himself up over you. his face is scrunched up, biting down hard onto his lip to try not to cum too fast. you’re no different, neediness taking over as you clench around him, encouraging him to move. he moves slowly, trying to get accustomed to how tight you are. he can hear the whines and whimpers you let out, but he can’t do anything, mind too preoccupied with you. 

“please, mark, need you to move already. need you to fuck me so bad.” he nods, but just swirls his hips against you, only making you needier. you can feel the low rumble of jaehyun’s laugh through your body, and it adds on to your pleasure.

“baby,” his moan cuts you off, “please?”

he opens his eyes to look at you, and despite the bleariness, he can see your pretty face, the tears in your eyes as you fight back against how good he feels. he moves himself back up, ignoring how shaky his arms are, and starts to pull slowly out of you. you whine at the emptiness, before he slams right back into you.

he tries to focus on your reactions, tries to see what exactly makes you feel the best, but your tight walls make it hard for him. when he does eventually find a pace that works for you, he continues to push himself into you, your previous orgasm helping him slide into you with ease. when he angles his hips a certain way, he can tell he’s hit your sweet spot, your hands moving to his back to claw at him.

he seethes at the pain, but refocuses his attention to you when you moan out his name. he moans when you mke eye contact, dick twitching inside of you as you let out an airy laugh, “you f-feel so good, baby. bet you wanted this for so long.”

he quickly nods, “thought about your pretty pussy so much, thought about you around me. like you so much, couldn’t help but think about you.”

against mark’s better judgment, he looks down to see how well you’re taking him in, how your pussy just sucks him in further. he moans out, and you laugh again, threading one of your hands in his hair to get him to look at you. “should’ve told me how much you needed me, could’ve helped you out a lot sooner.”

he lets out a small whimper, to your satisfaction. mark can’t look at you anymore, he feels himself getting too close already. his eyes look at your chest, how your boobs bounce every time he thrusts into you. before he can move a hand to you, he sees jaehyun’s larger hands move to your chest, groping at the flesh. you moan out loud, the added stimulation making you clench harshly around mark’s twitching cock.

if mark didn’t feel so weak right now, he’d move jaehyun’s hands out the way to replace them with his own. but with the way he feels himself getting closer to the edge, all he can do is let out small whines. “can’t believe i get to be here, can’t believe i’m the one fucking my girl right now.”

mark can’t see the way jaehyun’s eyes bore into him, but mark can feel you clench around him when jaehyun tweaks your nipples. mark’s getting fed up with jaehyun, the ache in his cock not helping his actions when he sees your eyes focused on jaehyun. mark can tell jaehyun feels the same way too, or else he wouldn’t have been touching you like he is now. in an almost out of character way, mark pushes himself up to kiss you, distracting you from jaehyun.

it’s messy, drool slipping down both of your chins, moaning in each other's mouth. mark mumbles into you, “wanna cum for my girl, wanna show you what i can give to you.”

you quickly nod along to his words, “please, baby. please cum in me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

he curses under his breath, your words filling up his head. he moves one hand down to your aching clit, wanting you to cum with him. you moan a mix of his name and pleas, your orgasm threatening to rip through you. mark can feel how hard you’re clenching around him, he can feel how he’s shaking, how jaehyun’s eyes focus on you. he’s rubbing against your clit messily, too overcome by pleasure, but that’s all it takes for you to cum around his cock.

it feels so tight, nothing has ever compared to this before. all the days and nights he’s spent fantasizing about this moment could never compare to how he’s feeling now. he cums quickly after you, hips rutting against your cunt as he spills his cum deep into you, cock throbbing. he tries to help you ride out your orgasm until he feels too sensitive, slowly slipping out of you.

he tries to ignore how his cum is slipping out of you, mixed with your cum. he can’t look away, and if he had the chance, he would eat you out again, his tongue slipping against you as he cleans up the mess you both made. before he can reach down though, jaehyun pulls you up next to his side and pushes mark out the way by his shoulder.

it’s embarrassing to be pushed around by jaehyun, but mark sees how your eyes follow him, filled with a lustful gaze. he blushes and looks away, trying not to think about the current dynamic you both have him in. mark now looks at jaehyun, who looks down at the sight of the both of you. no matter how much mark felt like he was in charge, jaehyun will always be behind it all.

jaehyun coos at you, “did my baby enjoy herself? did you like having another man inside you?”

you try not to nod, but you can’t help yourself, smiling to jaehyun with a challenge on your face. you can see the small smile mark has on his face as he moves to your side. jaehyun just stares at the both of you before he suddenly grabs you and pulls you closer to him, flipping you over. he has you bent over, ass in the air as you’re faced with mark, face dangerously close to his cock. 

it’s embarrassing to be in this position, but you can help how you clench at the sight of how mark is looking down at you with pink cheeks. “i think i need to show my baby what she’s missing out on,” jaehyun starts, grabbing at your ass, “show her what she needs.”

jaehyun’s pants have been pulled down, his cock free from restraints as he teases your sensitive slit. you whimper out as he does, your head resting on mark’s thigh. he bring a hand to your cheek, thumb rubbing across the skin. jaehyun taps his dick at your entrance, teasing his head in before pulling it out. you’re sure he can see how messy it is, a mix of cum slipping out of you.

“didn’t realize you can be such a slut, didn’t know you needed two cocks to satisfy you.” you whine out in response, shaking your head at his claim. he just laughs as he enters you, “i know you better than you know yourself.”

you moan out at the stretch, the angle making him hit spots you’ve never felt before. you arch your back, and jaehyun takes in the sight of you as he lets out a low groan. mark feels it too, despite the fact that he came only a bit ago, he can feel his cock grow hard again. you lazily grin at him, and he can’t look you in the eye for more than three seconds.

jaehyun thrusts into you quickly, a harsh grip on your waist as he soothes a hand over your ass before slapping it. you let out a weak whine, and jaehyun roughly thrusts into you.

“you know, mark, we see- no, i see how much you look at her.” jaehyuns hips buck into yours, “and every time, i can see just how much she looks at you back.”

mark’s whole body feels hot, and he realizes that he’s fully hard again. you look up through your eyelashes to see mark’s cock standing tall, and you discreetly move forward to lick up his length. mark lets out a sharp whine, still sensitive from before, but pushes his hips towards you. jaehyun eyes both of you, not stopping your actions. “didn’t realize how needy she can be, she’d probably let you fuck her again if it weren’t for me,” he mumurs out.

you lick up mark’s cock, pressing a kiss to the tip before hovering over it, letting your mouth swallow around his head. he tries not to buck up into your mouth, but he can’t help the heat that envelopes his cock, hips pushing into your warm mouth. you try to fit as much of him you can in your mouth, proving to be hard with the man trying to fuck you into the sheets. 

“sweet girl, go ahead and tell mark how bad you wanted him,” when he gets no response, he pulls out of you, causing you to whine out, moving away from mark. “look mark in the eyes and say it.”

“n-needed you, baby. even if i fucked jaehyun, still wanted you.” jaehyun hums behind you before slamming into you again. all mark can hear are your words repeating in his head and loud squelch of your wet pussy. he tentively pulls you towards his cock again, letting you swallow around his dick. he whines when you moan around him, the vibrations causing his whole body to shudder.

“even though she wanted you, she still came to me, begged me to fuck her pretty pussy every time.” you bob your head around mark’s cock, looking up at him to see hooded eyes peering down at you, struggling to keep them open. it’s like you came out of his dream, such a pretty girl who was made just for him.

you can feel jaehyun slip an arm towards your clit, fingers applying pressure to your clit in the exact way you like it. you have to pull off of mark completely in order to moan out, your hand replacing your mouth as you jerk him off. you clench around jaehyun, hips pushing back against him to get him deeper inside. he reaches down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you.

“will my pretty girl cum for me? gonna show mark how good i make you feel?” jaehyun says as he pushes your head down into the bed, his own movements losing control.

as much as mark wants to scoff at his words, he’s too close to cumming again, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels himself throb. your grip around him tightens around his tip as you lose yourself, and mark ruts up into your hand to help you out. with one last look, he sees your dazed look, sees how you mouth cum for me, baby.

he does, hot cum shooting over your hand and some onto your face. your hand moves slowly up and down, helping him ride out his orgasm as he lets out a groan of your name. jaehyun takes this as a sign to focus on you, angling his hips in a way he knows will get you to cum. you’re babbling now, a mix of both names tumbling out your mouth as you beg jaehyun to let you cum.

you can feel him throb inside of you, his lack of composure showing when there’s no rhythm to his thrusts. “i’m so close, jaehyun. so close! please, wanna cum for you!”

he sees you turn your head to look back at him, your eyes filled with only pleasure as he gives you what you want. he slows down, fingers moving quickly on your clit as he says, “show us just how good i make you feel.”

at his possessive words, you let go around him, loud moans as you mvoe against him. jaehyun can feel you clench around him, unable to fight off his orgasm as he fills you up once more. mark moves to hold your hand through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you cumming almost making him hard again.

jaehyun thrusts deeply into you a few more times, letting his cum sink deep inside of you. he pulls away from you, eyes following how his cum seeps out of you. he moves to push his cum back into you, and you whine out at the sensitivity. he laughs at you, moving to lay down next to your collapsed figure.

“i thought you could take the two of us?” he says, trying to hide another laugh.

“shut up, jaehyun.” you say into your now ruined bedsheets.

you push yourself up to his side, jaehyun wrapping an arm around you as you cuddle into his chest. through tired eyes, you can see how awkward mark looks, not really knowing what to do in his post-orgasm state. you smile at him, a hand reaching out to him as you pull him closer to you.

“i’d let you cuddle her-”

you cut jaehyun off, “don’t be rude jaehyun. my sweet boy did so well for us today. right, baby?”

mark blushes as he nods, cuddling up to the side of your body. his face nuzzles closely to your chest, enjoying the warmth of your body and the glow you seem to emit. with enough space, jaehyun cuddles the other side of you, letting you press your head into his shoulder, slow breaths being exchanged between you all.

in the silence of room, you hear jaehyun speak up, “so is mark just going to join us now, or…”

“jaehyun, please, just this once, stop being jealous.”

jaehyun huffs as mark laughs into your side.

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @mwahaechz (OMG ur new user is so cute)

sidenote: who would you guys end up dating, mark or jaehyun? i was debating the whole time but like... i seriously couldnt figure it out... but like... u know..

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

© httpsserene2024

[cupcakeslushie]

For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996. 

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana. 

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior. 

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool. 

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it. 

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking. 

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights   has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too. 

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in. 

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended. 

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated. 

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.  

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do. 

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.” 

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.” 

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.  

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said. 

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol. 

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically. 

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself. 

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink. 

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth. 

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band. 

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis. 

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt. 

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name. 

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat. 

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence. 

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.” 

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs. 

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home. 

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building. 

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.” 

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin. 

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it. 

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers. 

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth. 

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him. 

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend. 

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock. 

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!” 

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you. 

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night? 

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.” 

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best. 

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes. 

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead. 

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie. 

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now. 

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks. 

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys. 

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks. 

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek. 

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded. 

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.” 

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris. 

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts. 

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face. 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

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[cevansbrat0007]

Risky Business

Summary: Full Story! Ari doesn't like it when you take unnecessary risks. So tonight he's going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Smut, Brat!Reader, Punishments, Use of Restraints/Handcuffs, CMNF (Clothed Male Nude Female), Discussions of Safe Words, Light Degradation, Spanking (mentioned), Ass Slapping, Manhandling, Thigh Riding, Light Choking, Orgasm Denial, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you finish knotting the tie on your pink silk robe. Ari’s instructions about what he wanted you to wear had been very clear. And since he’d left your house in a rather sour mood, the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him. 

Your teeth go to worry your bottom lip as you pick up your phone to reread your text exchange from earlier in the day.

You could only hope that he had gone on to have a good day. Otherwise you had the feeling you’d be in for one hell of a lecture whatever he time he made it back to your place. With a sigh you turn off the light and decide to make your way downstairs. 

As much as you try not to, you find yourself replaying the events from this morning over and over again in your mind. Perhaps wishing that things could have gone down just a little differently. 

Six Hours Earlier…

You knew you’d fucked up the moment you heard the slam of the car door. Freezing in place, you’d dared to look down, not the least bit surprised to see your boyfriend damn near sprinting across your lawn in the direction of your house.

“Hey, Beast! Be right there–oops!” You’d gone to give a little wave, only to let out a tiny screech when you’d nearly lost your footing. Which had only made you man move faster.

“Bird – hold on! Don’t move!” He bellowed as before skidding to a stop just at the base of the ladder propped against the side of your home. “Fuck!” 

“I’m okay!” You’d quickly tried to reassure him. “But I think my roof is missing a tile. Couldn’t quite tell by looking at it from there.” You’d vaguely gestured towards the ladder that Ari was clutching as if his life depended upon it. “So I figured I’d just come up to see whatever there was to see.”

“Right. But…” Ari’s fingers had gone to pinch the bridge of his nose as he worked to calm his breathing. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re up there.” His heart had seized in his chest as he watched you wobble for the second time in almost as many minutes. “C’mon and crawl back to me, sweet Bird. I’ll hold this steady, you just focus on not falling.”

‘Please.’ He’d sent a quick prayer up to his Lord in heaven. Just in case he’d found himself in need of a little divine intervention if things went south. 

“Uhh…” Slowly, you’d begun making your way over to the edge of the roof. Your pulse has kicked up when it finally dawned on you just how high off the ground you really were. “I think I might be a little stuck.” A nervous giggle bubbled its way out of your chest as you continued to creep along the slightly sloped surface. 

Ari had cleared his throat, wiping his increasingly damp palms on his jeans. “You’re not stuck, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you down the same way you got up there, okay? Just keep coming towards me.”

“And if–if I fall?” He just seemed so confident. Which let you know that you really should’ve thought this through a little better. Perhaps this was what you deserved for being so impatient.   

“Then I’ll just have to catch you then, won’t I?” Fat chance of that one happening.

“Or I’ll probably just end up crushing you.” You’d muttered aloud to no one in particular as you began to maneuver yourself backwards onto the ladder. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Ari had squinted up at you, silently pleading with you to start making your descent.  

“Uh, nothing.” Sweat dotted your brow as you reached out your leg, your foot dangling awkwardly until it found the closest rung. “I–I think I’ve got it. I’m gonna come down now, okay?”

“That’s my brave girl.” He’d hummed encouragingly. “Careful. You’re so close. Just keep putting one foot after the other. Yep, just like that.”   

A minute later, you’d felt him grab hold of your shorts, effectively holding you steady until you’re firmly planted on the ground once more. And then you were in his arms, his nose buried in your curls while one of his large, warm hands gently caressed your back.

“You have impeccable timing.” You’d whispered shakily, your words coming out muffled as you snuggle deeper into his embrace. 

“I have what?” He pulled away from you, his hands moving to grip your biceps. “Better yet, what the fuck were you doing up there?” You could sense that your Bounty Hunter is doing his best to sound calm.

“Um…I was trying to clean my gutters.” You’d responded, confused as to why Ari seemed so angry.

“Coulda’ sworn I told you I’d take care of it.” He growled, his blue eyes darkening dangerously. “And that I didn’t want your ass anywhere near a ladder, let alone the goddamned roof.” 

“But that was like…” You’d trailed off, trying to recall when exactly your bounty hunter had made that promise.

“It’s barely been two days.” He’d hissed. “Just what the hell is wrong with you that you can’t wait more than two fucking days?”

“Nothing. I just-” You’d sniffed, not caring for the tone he was using. “What made you decide to drop by?”

“Left a couple files on your kitchen table. I need to pass ‘em on to the Sheriff, see if he’s got anything else that might be useful regarding Martin’s sister.” He continued to glare down at you, his ticking in annoyance. “But what do I find when I get here? You risking your life because you don’t know how to sit your pretty ass down for more than five seconds. Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ari must’ve known he needed a minute, because he’d turned away from you to make a beeline for the front of your house. Of course you’d been right on his heels, wincing as he shouldered his way through your unlocked door. 

“Are you mad at me or something?” You’d asked, frowning at the sound of his derisive snort.

“Or something.” He’d muttered as he scooped up the folders he’d left behind in the kitchen. You watched him drag his fingers through his hair before quickly sifting through each file to check the contents.

“I promise I’m okay.” You’d said, clasping your hands and resting them on your stomach.

“Don’t have time for this.” He’d mumbled, his eyes lighting up when he landed on the document he was searching for. “Found it.” Satisfied that everything was in order, he’d made his way back over to you.  

“Bird.” He’d rumbled, grabbing the front of your shirt to haul you close. “I’ll deal with you later. You can count on that. Now I gotta go. Please don’t make me regret leaving you here alone. And don’t do anything else dumb while I’m gone.” 

With that he’d pressed a hard kiss to your mouth and jogged back out the way he came. Leaving you by yourself to spend the rest of the afternoon replaying the day’s events while you waited for him to return.

You perk up when you hear the front door open and shut, signaling that Ari had returned. Hopefully in a much better mood than the one he’d been in when he left. If you were lucky, that is.

“Welcome back, honey.” You breathe as a fresh wave of nervous energy hits you the moment he enters the room. “I took the liberty of ordering us some dinner from Holtman’s Diner. I, uh, remembered how much you said you liked their chicken pot pies.”

“Already ate.” His gruff response has you mentally kicking yourself all over again. 

“Oh. Well.” You turn to stare at the bag of food resting on the counter. “That’s not a problem. I’m sure it’ll keep just fine in the fridge until you decide you’re ready for it.” Offering him your sweetest smile, you hustle to put everything away. 

But he doesn’t return it. Instead he continues to glower at you, his piercing blue gaze following your every movement. And the silence is so uncomfortable it’s almost enough to make you want to scream. 

“There we go.” You chirp with a cheeriness you most definitely did not feel. “How did everything go with Sheriff Mitt? Was he able to give you anything on Martin’s sister or –”

“Did I ask you to touch the ladder?” His quietly snarled question takes you by surprise. 

“I mean…” You trail off, wincing at the uncertainty in your tone. Why did you get the feeling that you might’ve just fucked up again? “It’s not like you didn’t tell me to…not…touch it.” You shrug, instantly regretting how you’d chosen to structure that sentence. “In fact, I believe all you told me to do was keep my feet on the ground. Which I did the entire time I drug it back inside my garage.” 

You move to fish a glass out of a nearby cabinet. “Now, can I at least get you something to drink, baby? Pretty sure I’ve still got some of that whiskey you like.” You knew for a fact that you did. But only because you’d already checked.

“Afraid I’m not really the type to drink before handling business of this nature.” Your mouth suddenly goes dry when you notice the way his eyes darken as he lazily peruses your silkenly clad form.  

Heaving a small sigh you go about replacing the glass. “And exactly what kinda business are we handling here, Beast?” You ask, protectively wrapping your arms around your middle.

“The kind that occurs when a man needs to make a few things clear to his woman.” He gives a rueful shake of his head before running his hand through his chestnut locks. “Especially when she seems to possess more will than good sense on almost any given day.”

You wait for him to smile or wink, or do anything to indicate that he’s only joking. But it never comes. And while his cheeky remark chafes, albeit just a little, you decide to grit your teeth and let it slide. For now. 

So, instead you allow your hands to go to your hips before you force yourself to take a deep breath. Ari takes a step towards you then, the sound of his work boots is surprisingly quiet as he prowls closer to where you’re standing. Now ordinarily, this would be the part where you backed up so that you could put some distance between yourself and the surly bounty hunter.

But unfortunately, you just couldn’t seem to get your worthless jelly legs to move.  

Your man doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of you – so close that you catch a whiff of his aftershave. The one you’d bought just for him. But that wasn’t the only thing you smelled. There was also a hint of something else.

Tobacco and cedar.

“You’ve been smoking again.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

“One. Maybe two.” Ari concedes, sucking on his teeth. “If anything, it was more of a stress smoke. Found it pretty hard to enjoy a single puff when all I saw when I closed my fucking eyes is you taking a tumble off that goddamned roof.”

“Dress it up however you want.” You sniff haughtily, your eyes rolling heavenwards. “It’s still a filthy habit, Ari Levinson. One that’s all but guaranteed to send you to an early grave.”     

Later, you would come to the conclusion that you must’ve struck a nerve. Because the next thing you know, one of Ari’s big hands is fisting its way into your curls, yanking your head back with just enough force to get your attention.

And turn you on at the same time.

“You’ve got alotta fuckin’ nerve, baby.” Against his better judgment, he slants his mouth over yours in a hard, unexpected kiss. “I’m sure you’re anxious for me to sort your shit out, but I promise tonight is gonna go a whole lot different if I catch you even thinking about rolling those pretty eyes at me again. One. More. Time.” The rough edge in his tone has you wanting to rub up against him in the best way possible. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Ari purrs when you choose to continue glaring at him instead of responding. “Or maybe…” He leans down to brush his soft, sensual lips over yours once more – albeit gently this time. “Maybe you think I’m bluffing. Is that it, little Bird?”

“N–no.” You stammer, your pulse flaring to life when his free hand comes out of nowhere to grab your ass hard enough to have you rising on your toes. 

“You sure?” He asks, sounding rather skeptical. “Because I’m more than willing to table this conversation if you think a quick trip over my knee might help you with that eye contact.”  

“I–I’m sure. Thanks.” You mumble, uncomfortable with the way your pussy flutters at the prospect of receiving a spanking from the burly man in front of you. 

Maybe you’d try your luck another time. Just to test it. See if he’d really be the type to follow through. But the real question was, just how disappointed would you be if he didn’t? Perhaps those kinds of scenarios were best left for the heroines in that stack of romance novels you kept hidden in the back of your bookcase. 

“Well, if you change your mind, you just be sure to let me know.” 

Flustered, all you can manage is a jerky nod once he finally releases you. All you can focus on is the erratic thrum of your pulse as you struggle to get your bearings. 

“I see it looks like you followed the directions I sent over earlier.” Ari muses, his nimble fingers brushing along the belt of your robe. “You’d better be naked and ready for me, sweetheart. Otherwise that spanking we just talked about is gonna be back on the table.” He grins at you, which is really more like a flash of teeth than anything else. 

“I am.” Comes your low, breathy response as your traitorous nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your lingerie. Wanting to please him, you decide to part the edges of your robe, giving him a glimpse of your calculated submission. 

“Good girl.” That’s all you hear before he gently takes hold of your arm and begins to lead you out of the kitchen. “Guess that proves you can listen if you think the stakes are high enough.” His lopsided smirk has you confused. “But tonight I’m gonna make sure you hear me.

“But wh–ooh!” Your poorly timed question ends in a squeal when he delivers a sharp blow to your ass. 

“Duchess.” Ari growls, his head dipping so that his lips dance along the shell of your ear. “I don’t wanna hear another fucking sound out of that sweet mouth unless it’s you choking on my cock. You with me?”

Stunned into silence, all you can do is nod. But thankfully it’s enough. This time when he lets you go, you scamper off into the safety of the living room without looking back. You find yourself grimacing as you attempt to rub the sting out of your butt. You’d do well to remember that your man had a hand like a flippin’ oak tree.

Ten Minutes Later…

By the time Ari decides to join you in the living room you’re feeling beyond antsy. You gave up on sitting on the couch, preferring to hang out in the middle of the room. You perk up when he finally strolls in, only to wilt once you spy what he has clutched in his fist. They looked suspiciously like…

Handcuffs. 

Ari pauses by the doorway, allowing his hip to rest against the frame. He studies you, cocking his head to the side as reads the question written all over your face. 

“Go on and ask, baby. I know how much it’s killing you to hold it in.”

“And who are those for?” The words come tumbling out seconds after you receive permission.

“You.” He shrugs, holding the burgundy leather cuffs up to give you a better look at them. 

“Why?” Your hands fly to your hips as a fresh wave of defiance courses through your veins. “Because you found me on the roof earlier? Cuz’ I’ve gotta tell you, Beast, this is honestly starting to sound like some serious macho bullshit.” 

“Is that right?” He quirks a tawny brow as he waits for you to continue.

“Yep. I–I’m all for playing, but I honestly don’t see how I did anything wrong. In fact, I bet if I was a man you wouldn’t have had a problem with me inspecting my own roof.” Your eyes narrow as you jab a finger in his direction.

“Bird.” Your nickname comes on the heels of an impatient groan. “No offense, but if you were a man, you wouldn’t be in my bed. Just a statement of fact.”

“I just meant –” You start, only for him to cut you off.

“I know what you meant. And that was my answer.” He scrubs a weary hand over his bearded jaw. “But I also know you, baby. I know you're all riled up and ready to argue with me. So gimme what else you got, so we can go about getting you straightened out good and proper.” His dark tone is full of promise, making you shiver.

Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play this, then so be it. You had no problem calling out this kind of crap when you saw it.  

“Alright. But only because you asked.” You cross your arms over your chest as you raise your chin, meeting Ari’s stern gaze with an equally perturbed one of your own. “This is my house. That’s my roof, and those are my gutters. I’m responsible for their upkeep, otherwise I might not have a place to live.” 

You’re surprised to see him nod, almost as if he was agreeing with you. So you keep going, assuming you’re making at least some headway with this man.

“I would also like to point out that there are millions of women whose job it is everyday to–to climb ladders and patch roofs, they clean gutters. And, hell! Some of those women might even be the ones building the houses, and you’re upset with me for inspecting my own property?” You throw your arms up in the air for good measure. “Make it make sense!” 

“You done, baby?” He keeps his tone light, bordering on casual. 

“I…” And here you’d thought you were making some headway. “Yes, I’m done.” 

“Alright.” Ari slowly peels himself off the wall to stand at his height. “Now turn around and put your hands behind your back for me.” You immediately balk at that, although he’s quick to shush you. “Duchess, I let you speak your piece. And I am gonna respond, but tonight is all about making sure you hear me.” 

“You can’t–”

“Sweetheart.” He gives an amused shake of his head as he playfully twirls the cuffs around his index finger. “Tonight ain’t the night to try and tell me what I can and can’t do with you. From the moment I met you, I knew you needed a keeper. You just don’t know how to let yourself be kept. Something I aim to fix.” 

You feel your core spasm when he begins to advance, your empty walls clenching around nothing. It only gets worse when you notice the smug grin that flits across his handsome features once he stops in front of you, the tops of his boots nearly brushing your bare toes. 

“And lucky for you,” his hand cups your jaw, his thumb lightly stroking along the curve of your bottom lip. “I’m not afraid to get creative when it comes to dealing with stubborn little birds. Now turn the fuck around before I decide I’m better off bending you over the arm of that couch and teaching you a different lesson entirely.” 

Licking your dry lips, you finally do as you’re asked and turn away from him. You honestly weren’t sure if you could handle something like that tonight. Even though the simple threat alone was enough to have your slick practically dripping down your thighs. 

“Well, would ya look at that? Guess my pretty girl is still in the mood to listen.” The slightly mocking edge to his voice has you feeling just a touch unsteady. A soft gasp escapes when Ari reaches around to untie the front of your silken wrap as his mouth hovers just above your pulse. “Let’s see if you can keep it up.”

You shudder at the feel of his warm breath dancing along your skin, the heady thrum of anticipation causing you to break out in gooseflesh as you await his next instruction. 

“Take off the robe, Duchess.” Your eyes flutter closed even as sharp teeth nip at your throat. “Show me you understand that you’re not in charge right now, even if you haven’t fully grasped it yet.”

Gathering your courage, you allow the garment to slide down your body until it pools to the floor at your feet, leaving you naked and vulnerable.

“Hands next, please. There we go.” You hold still while Ari gently binds your wrists with the soft leather cuffs. “You’re doing so good for me. You really are.” He slowly tightens them, paying special attention to your body’s responses in case anything is too much.

“Are you wet for me, sweetheart? Huh?” He gives into the temptation to pinch your nipple, making you whimper. It’s a sound that goes straight to his cock. “Aww, it’s okay if you don’t wanna answer. You don’t have to.” A possessive hand moves to cup your drenched pussy at the same time as a deep purr rumbles in his chest. “I’m more than happy to see for myself.”  

You remain silent, content to focus on the erratic hum of your pulse crashing in your ears. However, it’s the next instruction that throws you for a loop. Simply because it’s not one you’re expecting. 

“I’m gonna need you to pick a safe word. One that you’re gonna remember to use if something we do – whatever we do – becomes too much. Now, for obvious reasons, it can’t be a word like “no” or “stop”. It needs to be something like –”

“Peppermint.” You whisper, catching yourself by surprise.

“Alright. Peppermint it is.” Ari agrees after briefly mulling it over. He drops a quick kiss on your shoulder before pulling away in favor of taking a seat on the couch, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.

Alone.

“Come here.” The command stirs something within you. Something that made you want to stop fighting and obey. “Come to me, Bird.”

So you do.

You don’t stop until you’re standing between his spread legs. Meanwhile, Ari makes a show of lounging on the sofa, his big body giving the appearance of being relaxed. But you knew better. 

This man was still every inch the predator. And right now he was in charge. A fact that you would do well to remember before it went and bit you in the ass.    

“Sit.” 

You move to crawl onto his lap, only to stop when he shakes his head “no”. You’re confused until he pats his thigh, letting you know what he really wants from you. Biting your lip you sink down you’re straddling his thickly muscled thigh, your bare pussy pressing flush against the coarse fabric of his jeans. 

Pleased with your submission thus far, Ari’s hands go rest on your hips so that he can gently knead and massage your curves.           

“But I don’t understand!” You whine when he pulls away after you lean in for a kiss. 

There was no way you could know just how hard it was for him to deny you like that. How much it hurt to tell you no, especially when you were pouting like you were now. But what good would it do to give you a reward when you hadn’t earned it? 

“Are you in charge right now?” He can tell his unexpected harshness startles you when he notices the way your bottom lip begins to quiver. Too bad he’s having none of it. “Aw, don’t you dare give me those crocodile tears, baby. Not when we’re only just getting started.” He gifts you with a loving smack to your ass. “Tonight you’re gonna have to earn my cock. And you can start by making yourself cum.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes go wide as your brain works overtime to process what he’s saying. You find it even harder to concentrate when one of his fingers begins tracing along the curve of your nipple.

“I see you’re still not hearing me.” His lightly calloused palms return to your hips so that he can begin slowly guiding you up and down his jean-covered thigh, creating the most delicious friction on your clit. “Which means tonight’s gonna wind up being a kind of punishment for us both.”

“But why–?”

“That’s enough outta you.” He grunts before politely jamming a pair of thick fingers into your mouth, gagging you. “You know it’s funny, I noticed you tend to listen better when this pretty hole is stuffed full. Now, how about we give this another try?” 

He waits to speak again until you give him a nod. 

“As I was saying, sweet Bird, you’re gonna have to work for this cock. Same goes for my fingers, for my tongue…” Ari chuckles at the sound of your pitiful little whimpers. “Since you wanna be so fucking stubborn all the time – so damned reckless – this is all you’re gonna get from me.” Your cunt pulses when you feel his thigh flex beneath you. “This right here.”   

“Mmpf!” You cry out, only to think better of it when he adjusts his grip on your chin, nearly choking you with his fingers in the process. It also didn’t help that you could feel your pussy was practically dripping, making a mess on his jeans. 

“Still ain’t your turn to talk, baby.” He reminds you, almost mockingly. “You gotta learn to be more patient. Otherwise we’ll be at this all night – not that I mind any.” He’s quick to tack on the last part when he notices the way your body stiffens in response. 

He suspected you weren’t a fan of being held captive like this. His suspicions are confirmed when you shimmy in his lap, calling attention to your bonds with the aid of an angry glare. 

“Oh, you wanna know about the cuffs.” He muses as he takes a moment to wipe away a bit of drool on your chin. “That’s to keep you from touching me the way you’ll want to when you’re busy grinding that needy little pussy on my thigh. I want you to understand what it’s like to have something you want be so close – I’m talkin’ right in front of you – and yet somehow so far at the same time. Kinda like how I felt when I saw you on that roof.”

This was about payback. You think as understanding finally dawns. You knew you’d pissed him off today, scared him even. But you’d had no idea that it would lead to this – you being naked and cuffed while perched on the bounty hunter’s lap.

“Earlier you accused me of being on some kinda macho bullshit. But that ain’t it at all.” His southern drawl grows more pronounced as a bold hand trails its way down the valley between your breasts. “Now it is true that there are women out there who build houses, clean gutters, climb scaffolding – so I’ll give you that point, sweetheart.” His hand is moving again, this time drifting lower until he reaches the softness of your belly. 

“However, the difference between those women and you is that they are trained for that. Whereas you are not. You got no clue what you’re doing up there or the danger you’re messing with.” Ari clears his throat, his sensual lips now set in a thin, firm line. “But even more importantly, those women ain’t mine.” For some reason, his words have your nerve endings buzzing with excitement.   

“You’re mine, baby. I’m not sure what it’s gonna take to make that penetrate, but it is what it is.” He shrugs before gently removing his fingers from your mouth. “I take care of what’s mine in this relationship. I already told you I would take care of those gutters, whether it was me doin’ it myself or finding you a professional, it was always gonna get done. If I was movin’ too slow then you shoulda said something instead of trying to tackle it yourself.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” You breathe as you lightly tug at your restraints. “I am. Now why don’t you uncuff me so I can show you how much?”

“I don’t think so.” Ari cocks his head to the side while he pretends to consider your offer. “Aw. Are we really back to pouting again just that fast, little Bird? Oh well. Guess it’s time you show me how you ride.”

“I can’t though.” You whine, feeling at turns both needy and frustrated.

“You haven’t even tried.” He fires back dismissively. “You manage to get yourself off using only my thigh, I’ll let you have as much of my cock as you can take. Now let’s get on with it. Time to give your man a show.”

With that he leans back, expectantly crossing his arms behind his head. And then he winks, signaling that he’s over any attempts to stall. 

You’re still glaring at him when you finally begin to move. Your toes dig into the plush carpet as you work to maintain your balance, but it’s not easy. You also learn that it’s damn near impossible to produce that same kind of amazing friction you’d tasted earlier without being able to bear down on his thigh.

You needed help. It was either that, or convince him to give you back the use of your hands.         

“Please.” You pant as you continue to grind against him, hating the way he chuckles when you fall forward against his chest. “It’s not working…” You struggle to sit back up, your breasts heaving as you wait to catch your breath before starting again. 

“You’re damn right it’s not working.” Ari agrees, running a hand through his already tousled locks. “Here I am being patient, waiting for you to make a mess on my thigh, and all I’m getting is complaining.”

The smug bastard then has the nerve to lightly jostle his leg, sending you sprawling face-first into his broad chest yet again with a muffled “oof”. And he offers no help when you go to sit up, instead he chooses to watch you struggle. Almost as if he finds it amusing.  

So you start over, this time determined to get yourself off. After that you’d make him uncuff you and then you’d kick his sexy ass out of your godforsaken house for the rest of the night.

“C’mon, baby.” He coos, leaning forward to lap up a single frustrated tear with his sinful tongue. “Don’t cry. We both know that greedy pussy of yours needs more than what you’re givin’ it right now.” 

“Ungh! Shut. Up.” You sob through clenched teeth as your head comes to rest on his shoulder. At least that seemed to make things a little easier. Sweet fuck that was starting to feel good! Now if you just moved a little to the left and – your movements are halted when Ari fists a hand in your hair before dragging you backwards. 

“Nooo…” You wail in protest as a thin sheen of perspiration covers your skin. 

“Tsk, tsk. No cheating.” Your bounty hunter chides.     

“But I can’t – it’s too hard.” You tell him, hating how small and whiny you sound. “I need…I need…”

“Help?” Ari finishes, pinning you with a knowing look. “Because if that’s the case – if that’s really what you need – then all you have to do is ask.” His warm, calloused hands find their way to your hips, holding you steady. “So…ask.”

“M–may I…” You blow out a breath as before starting over. “Will you please help me cum?” You feel your cheeks heat as the words come tumbling out.

“That depends, sweetheart.” He responds thoughtfully. “Are you gonna be my good girl and accept the help however I give it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You tell him. “I’ll be so good for you.”

That’s all Ari needs to hear, because this time when you move he stays with you. Helping guide your body as you work for your pleasure. He watches in awe as you ride him like the goddess you are, your tits bouncing as you writhe against him. 

“That’s right, greedy girl. Use me.” His dick grows harder with every breathless cry that spills from your lips as you follow his commands. “Fuck yeah.” He groans, capturing a pert nipple between his teeth before sucking as much of your ample breast into his mouth as he can manage.    

“S’good, baby!” You sob when he flexes his thigh. By now you’ve soaked your way through his jeans, not that he gives a damn. “YesYesYes!” 

If only because you were finally giving him exactly what he wanted.  

“That’s it, Bird.” One of his hands slides to your bottom, squeezing the tempting flesh before helping you adjust the angle of your ride. “Keep getting me nice and sloppy, otherwise I’m gonna have to tear this ass up. Is that what you want?” 

He delivers several sharp slaps, making you cry out even as you feel that invisible coil tighten in your belly. God, you were so fucking close. You’d never been made to orgasm like this before, but you knew you were only seconds from coming undone. 

“Nah.” He continues as he bites the underside of your breast, not missing the way it makes your pussy gush. “It might not be what you want, but it’s what you need. Right now my girl needs it rough.” He laves at the small hurt with his tongue. “And as your man, I always aim to give it however you need it.” 

“OhGod!Yes!” You keen as white hot pleasure threatens to consume you, your eyes rolling back in your head. “I–I’m gonna…oh fuck!” 

Sensing that you’re seconds from tumbling over the edge, Ari pauses to lift you off of his thigh in one fluid motion – effectively ruining your orgasm. Instantly you feel as if your entire body has been doused with cold water. 

“What’re you..?” Your eyes shoot open as he holds you suspended in the air, your abused cunt spasming in protest. “Why’d we stop?” You peer between your bodies, feeling both ashamed and proud of the sizable wet spot you managed to leave behind on his jeans.   

“Because I don’t think you’re ready to cum just yet.” He smiles when your mouth drops open to emit a strangled groan. “After all, they say a hard head makes for a soft behind. Or in your case I suppose, a tender pussy.” He surveys your poor, swollen clit peeking out from between your puffy lips.

“But I already said I was sorry.” You plead, wishing he would either set you down or at least touch you the way you needed. 

“And you’ll have the rest of the night to prove it to the both of us.” Ari muses, a small part of him taking pleasure in your obvious frustration. “In the meantime, I think it’s time you went for another ride.” He settles you back on his thigh once more before resting his arms behind his head.

“Now, show me what you learned.”

END   

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[wosoamazing]

Sick Days

Magda Eriksson x Pernille Harder x Teen!R

Warnings: Sickness, Vomit, Mentions of Parental Death

A/N: Not two people I usually write for but thought I would try something new. I hope you like it, let me know what you think and whether you want to see more of Magda & Pernille. (Do keep in mind it is 12:35am here and I've just written this whilst watching the rugby 7s) 1.2k words

You’d woken up feeling like you had slept for days when in reality it was only two hours, which had you letting out a groan after looking at the clock on your side table and realising it was only 8pm. Your body ached along with your head and you felt hot. Your chest also felt gross and your stomach uneasy. You slid out of your bed, causing your vision to swim which you ignored as you began your journey to Magda and Pernille’s room.

-

You were Magda’s niece, she was your aunt, and you suppose that meant Pernille was also your aunt. However it felt very different, they were closer to being parents, but more relaxed. However, you vaguely remember that change happening 3 years into living with Magda, when your parents had died, she had definitely been more strict before then, maybe it was also the influence of Pernille. You’d lived with Magda since you were ten, the Chelsea Academy had their eye on your for a while and when they were signing Magda they took it as the opportunity to try and sign you too, and it worked, your parents allowed it, as long as you kept doing school, and that you came to visit them, something which Chelsea facilitated very well. You’d made your official debut for the senior team when you were 15 years and 9 months, making you the youngest player in WSL history. You’d then signed for Bayern with both women, them having to convince you that you got an offer before you were the top goalscorer in the WSL and not because you were the girl without parents and they felt bad for you, you were incredibly humble, honestly too humble, and Magda secretly hated it, whilst Pernille thought it was cute.

-

You knocked lightly on their door, even though it was half open, you always felt guilty for interrupting their alone time, you also didn’t want to disturb them if they were feeling as bad as you, wondering why they were already in bed.

“You can come in, it’s all good,” You heard Magda reply and you pushed the door open, before attempting to shut it again behind you.

“What’s up?” It was Pernille who spoke this time.

“I don’t feel well,” you mumbled as you climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself between them, Magda placed her hand on your forehead, you’d gone to bed really quite early but they figured it was just the exhaustion from the last few months catching up to you, you’d made your debut in Sweden’s opening match of the world cup and surprisingly (to you at least), you’d played quite a lot of minutes, you’d moved to a new country, where they spoke a different language and pre-season training had started, it wasn’t a surprise you were tired. However if the heat radiating off your head was any indicator of how sick you were it wasn’t good, Magda got up and headed to the kitchen to get some items you would need.

Returning with many items, she placed them all down before checking your temperature properly and then trying to give you some medicine from the box, however she tipped the box upside down to open it, not realising the other side was already open, causing the many sheets of tablets to fall all over the floor, causing you to let out a slight laugh as Magda was crouching down cleaning them up, however your laugh very quickly turned into a chesty cough, one that had Magda’s head popping back up as she looked at Pernille with concern.

“That’s it Älskling, just cough it up, it’ll make you feel better” Pernille encouraged you as she rubbed your back, Magda handed you your water bottle along with two tablets after you finished, the ice cold water soothing your sore throat, and you momentarily felt better, before you started hacking up a lung again. 

“Oh, it’s okay Älskling, don’t worry,” Pernille tried to reassure you, as you threw up some of your stomach contents onto the sheets and yourself, due to your coughing. Something that wasn’t the best, neither women cared you’d thrown up on the bed, it could be washed, it was more so the fact that you very likely threw up the tablets you’d just taken, but you still wouldn’t be able to take more for a few hours.

Magda helped you have a lukewarm bath as Pernille changed the sheets and grabbed a basin just in case. You hadn’t even notice Pernille and Magda switch, so that Magda was able to have a shower, until it was Pernille who helped you get dressed and back to bed where you noticed there were now three sets of pillows swished onto the bed, your’s being in the middle, you all but collapsed onto the bed, the fresh sheets feeling nice and cool on your burning stomach. Pernille sat down next to you, turning on the TV, which was playing one of the many football games from this weekend, deciding just to leave it playing that, she turned her attention back to you, placing an icepack on the back of your neck before her nails ran up and down your back, using her free hand to message ahead that the three of you wouldn’t be at training tomorrow, due to you being unwell and not wanting to infect anyone else. When Magda joined you both on the bed you were essentially passed out, however you were awake enough to clumsily reach your hand out, trying to find Magda’s she helped you by taking your hand in hers, and kissing the back of your hand.

It was four days later and Pernille and Magda deemed you well enough to come watch training, the three of you making your first appearances since you got sick.

“You still not feeling very well?” Sydney asked as she sat down next to you, being told to sit the next few drills out due to her having been out of training for the past few days as she was sick.

You nodded your head slightly before placing your head on her shoulder, deciding it was a nice place to rest. Before a coughing fit racked your body, your cough was still very chesty and did not sound good in the slightest.

“Oh Mini M, dir geht's gut (you’re okay)” Sydney said as she rubbed your back before handing you your water bottle.

“’m sorry,” you mumbled as you tried to move away from her, not wanting to make her sick.

“Come back, Ich bin derjenige, der dich krank gemacht hat, obwohl ich fairerweise nicht so krank war (I’m the one who got you sick, although to be fair I wasn’t this sick,)” she confessed as she pulled you back towards her by your sleeve, and you gave in, curling up on your side, your head resting on her thigh, falling asleep.

-

“Oh look, Mini Magda is sleeping,” Georgia exclaimed as she walked over to the sidelines with the team.

“Was,” you grumbled as you death stared her.

“Mini Magda is grumpy when sick,”

“Yeah I think anyone would be if they got woken up by some annoying English girl’s yelling,” Sam teased her, causing chaos to erupt.

“Can we go home?” you asked Pernille who was now sitting next to you.

“Of course, Magda’s just gone to get all our stuff now,”

[forever-rogue]

i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕

how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared

AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't drunk.

Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.

So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach. 

You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you. 

You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help. 

Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him. 

“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”

You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”

He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.

He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else. 

It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”

“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”

“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”

You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”

Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.

“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy. 

So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.

“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”

“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”

Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.

This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.

You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.

“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”

Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.

“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”

“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever. 

“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”

“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”

He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.

“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”

“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”

“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”

“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”

“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”

“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”

“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.

The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?

You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.

Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.

Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again. 

It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest. 

“Hey-”

“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”

“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”

“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.

“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”

“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”

“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”

“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”

They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now. 

“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.

“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it’ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”

“It was too long.”

“Definitely.”