#and miles has to give it to his parents to look over

[runaway-from-your-self]

*a letter in a plain envelope*

Hey Rowan. I know you haven't heard from me in a while. A lot of things have happened...and I never meant to abandon you.

I was trying to find something to make things better, but as usual I just made them worse. I'm doing much better than anything I have in the past. I mean it this time, I really do.

I hope you can forgive me, and I'd like to see you again. So we can talk

Your brother, Bob

@officialrobert-bobby-reynolds

Rowan reads the letter over a few times. How Bob managed to get it to him he has no idea: he doesn’t have an address. He’s homeless and over 1000 miles from the home they both used to live in.

The letter slowly crumples in Rowan’s hand, from just how tightly he’s holding it. He doesn’t want to see Bob, Bob left without so much as a note, leaving a 10 year old Rowan to deal with their parents alone. Bob vanished for almost a decade, then shows back up with the ‘New Avengers’ like a hero. What complete bullshit

Rowan sighs, throwing the letter to the side and hugging his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. As much as he doesn’t want to see Bob, living in his only friend’s car isn’t the best way to live. If he could get some help financially from his government payroll brother…

—————————————————

Rowan shuffles up to the New Avengers tower, immediately attracting the ire of the security guards. In fairness, he looks like the kind of guy who would break in. Torn and filthy clothes, hair a greasy mess, eyes bloodshot, and smelling vaguely of weed. Still, he says he’s here to see Bob and they tell him to wait in the entrance hall. One of them pats him down and confiscates his knife, and Rowan gives them a dirty look.

He ends up sat down in one of the plastic chairs in the entrance hall, tapping his foot absently while he waits, and hoping that Bob doesn’t look too disgusted with his appearance. The security guys certainly were

[erinwantstowrite]

will peter be like an older brother to miles in lof ?

absolutely he is

there's about an 11 year difference between them (Miles is 14, Peter is 25), so it's a lot more like the older brother type of relationship that Peter has with Tim (despite Tim being his uncle). Peter has mentored(ish) other young heroes by this point (mostly in the Bats' universe) but since Miles is another Spider-Man, Peter takes up most of the responsibility in making sure Miles is safe and teaching him the ropes. That's HIS sassy child genius, thank you, and he's not a sidekick, he's Spider-Man.

He was also adamant that Miles tell his parents immediately, and gets along great with Rio and Jeff.

Which is HILARIOUS to me because at this point in time, Peter has built up a persona for the public eye just like the Bats did. In Rio and Jeff's eyes, they're gobsmacked that the clumsy, scatterbrained, and "scaredy-cat" kid that Tony Stark adopted a while ago is Spider-Man. (Technically, none of this is a lie. Because Peter is a terrible liar unless it's For the Jokes, and often comes across this way even if he hadn't meant to.) They're wondering how he pulled that off since he's the same age as Spider-Man, who is known to be an Avenger, and associates in the same circles as Peter. It helps that Peter and Spider-Man have been in a social media war, and that Peter works at the Daily Bugle that is known for disliking Spider-Man. Peter's been taking lessons for years atp to keep his identity safe. Which is also bonus points to Peter, because the two can tell that secret identities mean everything to him, but he told them who he was in a heartbeat (literally the very first thing he did when he found Miles).

In other words: Peter was ecstatic to become a teacher for his own matching superhero kid and it's one of the most important bonds in his life. That's his baby brother now!!

[soapcloth]

CW: soap x reader, brief mentions of past bullying, religious soap, pushy soap - dividers @/cafekitsune

The mortifying case of Soap having been one of your childhood bullies.

You spot him for the first time in years when he tugs open the door to the corner store just down the street from your parent's house—blissfully unaware of your presence as you duck away behind an aisle in hopes he won't spot you.

Despite being years older, its impossible not to recognize his face.

Last time you checked he had fucked off into the military. Why was he back in town at the same time you were? He never had been before.

Grabbing the last thing your mom needed, you wait until he's preoccupied at the fridge to sneak over to the till, ignoring the odd look from the cashier—of course John's grabbing the same old drink he used to make you steal for him. You can still remember the taunting bark of his laughter when you would sniffle and sob after delivering the beverage, absolutely sure you were going to spend the night in a jail cell if they caught you.

Bastard.

Placing the change on the counter you nod and hastily take your leave, about ready to cry tears of joy once you've made it out the shop door.

It's hard to believe he still has that much of a grip on your psyche all these years later.

Heavy breath billows from your lips as you take the crumbling road back to your parent's place, plastic bag smacking against your hip with each step—always the errand runner around here.

Even if the entire world shifted on its axis, you'd still wager that this town would manage to stay as is.

Three more days until you could go home—your real home; the spot on earth you had carved out for yourself, miles away from this unfathomably deep pit. Your scratchy childhood sheets give you a new found sense of appreciation for the set you had bought for yourself shortly after moving out; soft and well-loved atop your real bed, awaiting your return.

A large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

"Christ! Almost missed ye!" John coughs out, panting from his mad dash to catch up to you.

"Me?" you sputter out, spinning towards the towering man as you calm your racing heart.

The new angle gives you a clear look at the angry scar healing on the side of his head.

He beams, pupils a little out of sorts as he drags you in under a thick bicep. His scent is distinctly more man than you recall and his arms remind you of the sturdy branches belonging to a tree; limbs bigger than the ones you remember reaching for you when he used to chase you around the woods—you had thought them impossibly large then... what were they feeding him in the military?

"O'course! Who else but ye? That f'yer Mum?" he asks, grabbing your bag and taking a brief, distracted peek.

You don't get a chance to reply as switches his attention, nudging his nose into the top of your head to practically inhale your hair. he rumbles happily. "Thought I'd ne'er see ye' again."

you forcefully dig your heels into the gravel and wiggle out of his grip.

"Why would you want to see me? Don't you hate me?" you spit, frowning as you snatch your bag back.

You watch confusion eat away at him for a second before his thin lips press into a frown that mirrors your own, dark lashes trembling a bit as he glares a hole through you.

"Hate ye? Ye think ah hate ye?"

You weren't going to do this—not with the boy that had gleefully isolated you from everyone in your age range during the most important social years of your early life.

"Yer daft!" he suddenly laughs, slipping back into his jovial grin. "-Gave me a fright there for a second!" he pulls you back into him with embarrassing ease and begins to walk again, knuckles grinding into your head before he grabs the bag from you, a satisfied chuckle leaving his lips. "Cannae believe ye thought ah hated ye—Had the biggest crush oan ye,"

No.

"-Thought ah was makin' it obvious!"

No—not this.

"Ah was a jealous wee git, detested ye hangin' out with yer pals. Likely made a right fool o'maself." he rubs at your arm with his large, bear-like palm and sighs contentedly. "No matter, Ah'm no a teenager anymore. How long ye in town for?"

you tug your gaze away from the tight-fitting grey hoodie straining pathetically over his muscles, letting it land on your shoes. he notices your reluctance and laughs, giving you a squeeze

"-God gave me a second chance, ahm no lettin' ye slip away—Full steam oan till we’re wed this time, alright?"

[evansbby]

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+, minors dni, dark, noncon, dubcon, daddy kink, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, controlling behaviour, cum play, jacking off, lingerie kink, dom/sub dynamic, frat party setting, asshole fratboys, ari levinson mentioned lmao.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you run into steve at another frat party. this time, it's in his territory. (alternate continuation of chapter two of wicked games, but this has ZERO impact on the wicked games story. again, this does not affect the plot of the original wicked games timeline, it's just a fun little detour, a completely separate story if you will. you can read this without having read wicked games).

“Can we leave? I’m not really in a party mood,” you frown, tugging at the hem of your dress and regretting how short it is. It’s deep purple and form fitted, with a hemline that sits right below your butt. You’d thought the sexiness of it would help you get more into the spirit of things since Wanda had insisted on dragging you here tonight, but clearly that hadn’t worked. 

“Don’t do this right now, Y/N. We need to be seen at these events if we want to be popular.” Wanda smiles and waves into the distance as if she’s recognised a friend. Despite the fact that this is a St. Jude’s party and you know as well as she does that everyone here is a complete stranger to the both of you. 

You wrinkle your nose, “Well, I don’t really care about being popular–”

“Of course you do. Everyone does.” Wanda’s eyes dart around the very crowded, dimly lit basement of the frat house as if looking for someone. 

“But we don’t know anyone at St. Jude’s!” You tug at your dress again, feeling more insecure than ever. 

Tonight was originally planned to be a girl’s night – and you’d already picked out a movie, laid out the facemasks and bowls of popcorn, and pulled on your comfiest pyjamas only for Wanda to show up to your dorm in a slink black dress and strappy heels, telling you there was a frat party at the rival college that the two of you just couldn’t miss, and that she was giving you fifteen minutes to get ready.

“Yeah, but this morning I overheard some cheerleaders, and they said Curtis might be here.” 

Oh. Of course. Now it all made sense. Ever since the night of the last frat party the two of you had been to, the one where Wanda had slept with Curtis Everett… Well, ever since then she’d become a teensy bit obsessed with him. And that was also the same frat party where you and…

“Wanda! If Curtis is here then Ari will be here too! I don’t wanna see him!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes, “Relax. I also heard the cheerleaders say that Ari went back home for the weekend. Sharon Carter was all upset about it, because apparently he didn’t even bother inviting her and she hasn’t met his parents yet. But anyways, keep an eye out for Curtis, would you?”

“Okay…” Begrudgingly, you scan the room. A part of you is happy that Ari is out of town, because it makes it easier not to think about him, knowing he’s miles and miles away. Out of sight, out of mind - that was going to be your motto when it came to him moving forward.

“Looking for someone?” 

The deep voice feels like velvet against your ear, and you inhale sharply at the familiarity of it. Your whole body starts to buzz when you feel a warm hand press against the small of your back, the stranger’s touch brimming with confidence as he easily turns you around. 

You’re faced with a chest. A big, muscly, expansive chest covered in a grey shirt that’s deliciously tight against it. Slowly, you peek up at his face. Blue eyes. Cocky smile. Handsome. Angelic.

“Steve!” you breathe, relaxing at the familiar face, “You’re here!”

He chuckles, casually grabbing your hip and squeezing it, “Well, considering this is my frat house, it would be weird if I wasn’t.”

Your eyes widen, “It is?”

“Yep. Thanks for coming over, sweetheart. I had a feeling I hadn’t seen the last of you after that party.” He winks. And you have to admit - he looks good. All six foot six inches of him, looming above you with that charming smile on his face, that smile being one of the only things you remember from the night you’d last seen him, where he’d been such a gentleman and dropped you home after everything that had happened with Ari.

He’s got a backwards baseball cap on his head, but tufts of his blonde hair peek out from underneath, and his blue eyes sparkle as he watches you, as if he knows you’re checking him out. And unabashedly, he does the same, his pink tongue licking over his lips as he drinks in your body, his hold on your hip tightening. 

“I…uh… yeah,” you feel self-conscious, tongue-tied after the embarrassingly long amount of time you’ve just spent checking him out. “Thanks for giving me a lift home, by the way. I was super drunk.”

He nods, the glint still in his eye, “I should be the one thanking you for that cab ride.”

You blink, “Thanking me? Why?”

For a moment, he just stares at you. And oh, he’s so intense! That’s another thing you remember about him. How his eyes felt like they were boring holes into your very soul.

Finally, he smiles. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart. You looked so cute and helpless, I knew I had to step in.”

“Hey! I wasn’t completely helpless…”

He laughs, “A damsel in distress if I’d ever seen one, and…” he pauses, bringing his thumb up to stroke your lip. Oh, he was so forward too! Considering you’d only ever met him once before and there’d been nothing sexual between the two of you. “Do you remember what I told you that night?”

You shake your head, half in a trance by how he’s just touching you so openly. Except you don’t really want him to stop.

“I told you that if you were my girl, you wouldn’t be allowed to step foot inside a party like that one. Or this one, for that matter.”

You purse your lips, “Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Steve chuckles, encircling both his arms around you as if he owns you, “Too late. I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night.”

“B-But I’m here with Wanda…”

“Who’s that?”

“My best friend. She brought me here, and–”

“Doesn’t matter. This is my house and you’re here with me now. Okay, baby?”

He strokes your cheek and says it so sweetly, that the controlling nature of his request doesn’t even sink in for you. No, you’re way too distracted by the unabashed hunger in his eyes, the confidence in his smile as he yanks you closer, till your chest is pressed up against his, and an embarrassing squeak escapes your lips. 

“I…uh… Steve, I…”

“Say okay,” he commands you, “you don’t have to think so hard when you’re with me, sweet girl. I promise I’ll take care of you just like how I did last time.”

“Uh… I… o-okay…I ju–”

He smirks, “Cute little tongue-tied baby. C’mon, let’s go to my room.”

At that moment, Wanda reappears, a mildly annoyed look on her face. 

“Y/N, didn’t I tell you to keep an eye out for Curtis? What do you think you’re doing–?”

She stops short, her eyes widening when she sees you’re not alone.

“Wanda, this is the guy I met the other night–”

“–Steve Rogers,” Wanda cuts you off, beaming up at him, “What are you doing with Y/N?”

Steve blinks, “Why would I not be with Y/N?”

She looks you up and down, and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn her eyes flash and narrow, “Uh, you know she’s with Ari Levinson, right?”

Your jaw drops - why would she say that? She knew you’d vowed never to speak to Ari again!

But Steve looks completely unperturbed, and he lazily throws his arm over your shoulders, yanking you into his hard chest. And you know it’s a display of ownership - he’s been doing it the moment he saw you tonight after all. And it should bother you, but it doesn’t! Oh, it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t!

“You know what, Wilma? I think I saw Curtis outside by the pool.” He flashes her that charming smile that you thought was only reserved for you.

Your best friend’s eyes widen, “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely there.”

“Thanks, Steve!” She sidles up closer to him, accidentally bumping you out of the way – well, you hope it’s accidental. She strokes his chest, her manicured nails scraping against his shirt, “Would you show me where the pool is please? This place is so big, I couldn’t possibly find it on my own.”

A sudden fire ignites inside you, burning its way up to the surface of your body alongside this weird feeling of… well, you don’t really know. But you stand there, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch their interaction unfold in front of you.

But Steve remains by your side, “Up the stairs and outside the sliding glass door on your first right. You won’t miss it.”

“I’ll come with you, Wanda,” you try to shake off Steve’s heavy arm. You don’t really want to leave him, but it’s only right that you go with your best friend.

“Don’t bother, Y/N. I can see you’re busy.” And she’s off without another glance at you, but she makes sure to brush past Steve as she goes, despite the fact that there’s enough room for her to not have to do that. 

Steve snickers, “That’s your best friend?”

“She’s drunk, I think. Usually she’s a lot friendlier…” your voice trails off as you watch her leave the basement in a hurry. “Is…uh… is Curtis really up there? By the pool?”

Steve smirks as he grabs your hand and tugs you to the stairs, “If that bald-headed fuck was anywhere near here, I’d personally kick him out myself. Now come on, let’s go somewhere a bit more private.”

Steve’s room is neater than you’d assume a basketball player’s room in a frat house to be. Not that you have anything to compare it to since Ari had never invited you into his room. But this one is muted, grey, minimalistic with some basketball memorabilia scattered around. 

He’d wasted no time in getting you alone up there, practically half-carrying you through the crowd of people and up the stairs, his grip on you tight and confident. As if you’d been his girl all your life, as if it was a concrete fact that you belonged to him tonight. And it’s like your body was too entranced to even put up a fight to stop him.

Oh, what had you gotten yourself into?

“Good thing I got you out of there before things got too rowdy,” Steve shuts his bedroom door behind him, and you hear the unmistakable click of a lock. And you know you should feel more alarmed than you actually do - but it’s Steve! He wasn’t like Ari Levinson - he was nice! He could’ve taken advantage of you at that last frat party, but he hadn’t! The only person who’d taken advantage of you that night was Ari.

You could trust Steve.

“Do your parties usually get super rowdy?”

“For babies like you, yes.” Again, he unabashedly stares at your body, at your bare legs accentuated by your high heels, your tight dress that hugs your curves, the dip of your cleavage and the way it rises up and down as you breathe shallowly. “As I said before, I don’t want you down there. Not where they can all see you.”

You wrinkle your nose, “No one was looking at me. I’m from a different college, no one here even knows me.”

His muscular arms wrap around your waist with that same charming confidence, as if he’s known you way longer than he actually has. As if he knows you won’t pull away. How does he know that?

“You’re more innocent than I thought, baby girl.” To your shock, his hands press flat against your thighs before moving upwards, straight up under your dress to cup your bare ass cheeks. You gulp, yet remain rooted in place as he gently squeezes the soft flesh. “Skipping into a frat house looking so fucking sexy, and thinking no one’s gonna notice you?”

“Well, I didn’t skip…”

“You may as well have,” He presses his hard crotch against your front, and he’s so much bigger than you that you can feel his boner digging against your midriff, and it sends jolts straight down to your core. There was just something so hot about him being so big, you being so much smaller, him calling you innocent, him being so forward and unpredictable… It actually reminds you a bit of… NO. No, don’t think about him!

“And guess what?” Steve whispers in your ear as he gently walks you backwards to his bed. 

“Wh-What?”

“I’ve rescued you from not one, but two parties now. You owe me.”

You squeak as he sits down at the edge of his bed and pulls you on top of him. Till you’re perched on his lap like a baby, your butt on his knee and your legs draped across his beefy thighs.

Steve smirks, “Comfy?”

“I think so,” your mind’s frazzled, and your body is buzzing with heat. When did it get so hot? Now, he’s pressing his lips against the nape of your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your body in a way that has you shaking on his lap. Oh, it was too much, it was–

“Look, you have another varsity jacket!” You blurt out, pointing at the familiar blue and white jacket draped over his desk chair. Exactly the same as the one he’d given you the night of the other party. “I still have to return the one you gave me.”

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You keep it, baby girl. It looked cute on you.”

You duck your head, the compliment making you shy. Somehow, him calling you cute had a way bigger effect on you than him calling you hot, “Really?”

He pushes your chin up with his pointer finger, and it’s all these little touches that he’s administering so casually are getting you so hot and bothered, so worked up on the inside in a way that’s so unfamiliar to you. No one’s ever made you feel like this except for one other person…

He licks the shell of your ear, “Yes. I liked how big it was on you.”

“It wasn’t that big…”

He raises an eyebrow. 

“Okay fine, it was pretty big. But that’s not my fault, you’re literally a giant!” You giggle when he runs his fingers up and down your arm. It’s ticklish but it also feels kind of good.

“You like that I’m so much bigger than you?” Nonchalantly, his finger dips down to hook the hem of your dress.. 

“Well, uh, I don’t not like it…”

“Answer properly.” 

It’s crazy how casual he is, yet at the same time so quietly demanding, so dominating, so in control. How quickly he’s switching from charming and sweet to intensely serious. But it makes you want to do whatever he’s asking of you. 

“Yes,” you squeak, too shy to look into his eyes except he has hold of your chin and is able to keep your gaze locked with his. “Yes, I like it.”

Steve relaxes, “Good girl.”

The compliment makes you feel nice, and you sit there in his lap basking in it for a while. You don’t even notice him hiking your dress up higher and higher, till he snaps the elastic band of your thong. 

“Cute panties.”

“Hey!” Hastily, you push your dress back down, a part of you snapping out of whatever spell he’d cast on you since the moment he’d dragged you up here, and you shoot him your fiercest look. Which only serves to amuse him, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. 

“Does the bra match?” 

“You-You can’t just ask that!” 

“I just did. Now answer.”

His brashness should get to you, but for some reason all it’s doing is getting you wet. He was being so inappropriate, and yet it’s like you’re being held prisoner by your own body, which seems to love how he’s touching and petting you right now. How he’s demanding you answer all his questions, how he’s essentially ordering you around. 

“Actually, I have a better idea, baby girl. I think you should show me.” He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, running his tongue over his lips. His skin is pale, but his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. And oh, he’s so handsome! It makes you want to listen to whatever he says…

“Show you?”

“Yes. You’ll take your dress off and show me what you’ve got on underneath, won’t you?”

“I will?”

Steve smiles easily, smiles like he’s having the most normal conversation on Earth and you’ve just said something funny. “Of course you will. Because you like listening to me. It makes you feel all small and cute, having someone like me be in charge of you.”

Your jaw drops, and yet… Oh, why does him saying that make your core throb?! And you know you shouldn’t… but maybe it would be okay if you did what he asked just this once? After all, he just wanted to see if your underwear matched. There was nothing untoward about that, was there?

A part of you knows you’re being delusional, but you’re also pressing your thighs together subconsciously. As if just him talking like he’s so in charge is getting you so hot and bothered, so turned on. And a bigger part of you, the hornier part of you, can only focus on how big he is, how in control he is, how small you feel in his lap, like you’re his baby and he’s allowed to do whatever he wants with you, and you’ll just let him.

“Stand up,” Steve orders, “Let me see you properly.” 

It’s comical how quickly you scramble to obey him. As if the you who’d arrived at this party feeling bored, irritated and out of place has been replaced by a girl controlled by lust and want, her body betraying her as Steve taps into your most submissive inner desires, and you can’t help but listen to him. 

He nods in approval when you stand between his legs.

“Good. You’re so hot, baby girl.”

“I am?” You beam, despite the fact that you knew you looked good the moment you’d put this gorgeous purple dress on earlier tonight. Despite the time crunch Wanda had put you under, you’d still managed to look more than presentable. And now, a part of you wonders what Ari would think if he saw you—NO STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. JUST STOP.

”Yes, you are. Now take your dress off.”

“B-But Steve…”

“Do it.”

Cheeks burning, yet pussy throbbing at the same time, you unzip your dress. Trying to make your breathing sound less laboured, you keep your eyes on his. Only because his gaze is so intense, and you’re afraid he’d object if you looked away. 

The dress falls down to pool by your feet, and you stand in front of him in your lacy black set, with high heels to match. Steve inhales deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looks you up and down. And oh, you feel so awkward yet at the same time so turned on when you see that dark look of lust in his eyes. 

“Twirl. Slowly.” He grabs a bottle from the side of his bed, unscrewing it and taking a gulp. You catch a glimpse of the Grey Goose label, vaguely wondering why he has a bottle of vodka stored beside his bed, and how you didn’t know anyone to just drink it straight up like that - no mixers or anything. 

You twirl for him, concentrating on not tripping in your heels. You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, and yet your movements feel sluggish out of nervousness. But you hear a low whistle behind you, before the feel of his large hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze.

“Fuck, look at that cute little baby ass in those panties. Get back on my lap,” he growls. But before you can climb back on, he raises his hand to stop you, “Put my jacket on first.”

“Wh-What–”

He slaps your ass, pushing you in the direction of his desk chair with his varsity jacket draped over it. You gulp, slipping it on carefully. And it’s gigantic on you, the sleeves too long and the hem reaching down to mid-thigh. But Steve only licks his lips, beckoning you over once more. 

“It’s a bit big,” you bite your lip.

Roughly, he yanks you back into his lap, catching your lips between his in a searing kiss. Kissing you like he’s obsessed with you, and your eyes widen as he deepens it, sinking his teeth against your bottom lip carnally. As if he wants to eat you up, and his hands are all over your body, slipping underneath his jacket to touch your bare skin. 

“You’re so sexy, baby girl,” he breathes after he’s had his fill of kissing you. But even then, he pecks your lips between words, and you jolt in his lap when his thumb brushes against your erect nipple through the lace of your bra. He smirks against your mouth, “And you know it, don’t you?”

“No,” you lie, because the way he’s looking at you with such dark, almost carnivorous eyes… Oh, it makes you feel like the sexiest girl in the world!

“Of course you do. That’s why you wore this hot little lingerie set.” He snaps the strap of your bra against your skin and you yelp. “It looks so sexy on you, baby.”

“Thanks!” Most of the fancy lingerie you owned had been bought for you by Ari, but this was one you’d treated yourself with. Which was just as well, because there was something unspeakably awkward about sitting in the lap of one man wearing bra and panties bought by another man.

It was also funny how different Ari and Steve’s tastes were. Ari almost exclusively wanted you in pink or white sets, always something super girly and sweet and innocent. Steve seems to be the complete opposite, with how his eyes are glued to your black lingerie now.

Steve takes his baseball cap off, perching it backwards on your head. Another mark of his ownership, and yet your frazzled mind doesn’t have the capacity to think much into it.

He dips his head, licking a stripe down your cleavage. You gasp, automatically gripping a handful of his hair. He grabs your breasts, pushing them together against his face and nuzzling, licking and nipping as if he’s starved. Pushing the cups of your bra down, he latches on to your nipple, sucking on it roughly. You moan, and it eggs him on, he presses you forward, taking your whole breast in his mouth and sucking hard, covering it with his spit like he’s marking you as his property.

“Such pretty tits,” he mutters, flicking your nipple with his tongue, practically bullying it till it’s hard enough to cut glass, and you’re mewling because it’s so sensitive. But that only eggs him on, and he bites down on it like he’s starved. “Want me to fuck your tits, pretty girl?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs devilishly. It was crazy how angelic he looked compared to how filthy he was being right now!

Again, he pushes your breasts together, licking down your cleavage like he’s obsessed, a wicked smile on is face when he finally comes up for air. “Every party I’ve seen you at, you’re always wearing some cute little dress that barely covers anything, like you’re some sort of goddamned tease. Tell me, baby. Are you gonna be a tease tonight?”

Meanly, he pinches your nipple, chuckling when you cry out. Your brain is too fried to answer his question properly, and so you just whimper.

Luckily, he doesn’t push it, doesn’t force an answer out of you like how he’s been doing all night. Perhaps too distracted by your chest, his head dips back down. His hands are ruthless, so big, rough and calloused from basketball. Squeezing your tits like they’re just toys to him, like your body is his to play with, and he knows exactly how to touch you, almost as if he’s done it before.

“S-Steve,” you feel lightheaded with pleasure, amped up at how carnal he’s being. How he’s not holding back at all, how he’s acting like he knows your body despite this being the first ever time the two of you have hooked up. How is he even doing that?

“Is that what you call me?” Steve comes up for air, flashing you a warning look before switching to your other breast, flicking your overly sensitive nipple with his tongue and making your breath hitch.

“Daddy,” you moan, finally letting go of any inhibitions you had left. You rut forward, rubbing your panty-covered crotch against his thigh. And oh, the denim of his jeans feels heavenly, and for a moment, you get a strong sense of dejavu that almost knocks you out of your lust-fuelled haze. Almost.

“That’s right, rub your little pussy against me. Don’t think I don’t notice what you’re doing. I noticed last time too.”

Huh? Last time?

“Fuck, didn’t expect you to fall into my lap again tonight, baby girl,” He kisses up your neck, holding his varsity jacket against you because it’s so big it’s slipping off. “Can’t believe you just showed up at my house looking like sex on legs with your cute little doe eyes in your tiny little dress. Did you really expect you were gonna walk out of here in one piece, baby?”

“I…uh…nngh!” You moan incoherently, hardly registering what he’s saying as his teeth clamp down on your neck, and he bites and sucks at the sensitive nape, making you squirm in his lap.

“You thought you could stumble into my party looking like a clueless little baby and not expect to end up in my bed?” He bounces you on his lap roughly, and you cry out in unexpected pleasure, the action sending thrills straight to your pussy. You rut against him in response, growing more desperate and delirious by the second.

“D-Didn’t know this was your house,” you pant, breathless from the way he’s kissing and fondling you, playing with your body like you’re just his toy and nothing more.

“Bullshit,” he breathes, “you wanted to see me again, didn’t you? After that night? You couldn’t forget, could you?”

“I–”

Your voice dies in your throat when Steve suddenly grabs your panties and yanks hard. They rip instantly, and you gape at the tattered lace in his hand. He brings it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like you want to get fucked,” he mutters, his voice deep and thick with lust, his eyes pitch black and intense as ever.

Sure enough, your panties are wet in his fist, and you can smell your own arousal on them even from a distance. Hell, you feel your wetness seeping down your bare thighs, staining his jeans and again you get a fleeting sense of dejavu, like this has happened before. And a hazy, dream-like memory flits through your mind, just for a moment before it’s gone, and you’re snapped back into the present.

Steve, without breaking eye contact for even a second, takes your panties into his mouth, sucking on them while you watch him with wide eyes. He grabs your hand, pressing it on his hard crotch. You squeak, it felt big and almost… alive under his jeans with how it was throbbing under your palm.

“So sweet, baby,” he breathes, “I missed out on tasting your little baby cunt last time. She tastes just as sweet as I imagined.”

Last time? You’ve barely wrapped your head around what he’s just said, but his face is so devastatingly handsome in that moment, so angelic and yet there’s a darkness in his eyes that cuts through it. Makes him look like an angel hell bent on playing his wicked game, and you’re more than happy to be his pawn.

“Steve–daddy, please. I need… I need–”

“Take daddy’s cock out,” he commands, his voice deep and guttural with raw lust. So gruff, so to the point, and it makes him even more attractive in your eyes. Powerful and in control. In charge of you. Using your body for his own pleasure. Fuck. You were so far gone down the haze of lust, there was really no coming back from here.

Steve takes your hand and pushes it past the waistband of his jeans, and presses it against his huge, hard cock. And oh fuck, it feels so fat and throbbing under your dainty palm, so big like it was capable of ripping you apart and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Just touching his hot, rock-hard flesh makes you rub your pussy against his thigh once more, pleasure jolting through your veins in anticipations.

You take it out, a low whimper escaping your throat because of how red and angry and big it looks. Oh fuck.

Steve pushes something into your hand, and it takes you a handful of seconds to register the lace of your black panties. Your pretty, tattered panties that he wraps around your hand before pressing it back on his fat dick.

“Jack me off, princess,” he orders you, his voice all velvety sweet and charming again, and it’s crazy how quickly he’s switched back to that now. “Show daddy what your pretty little hands can do.”

He hisses when you start pumping him, moving your hand up and down and the lace of your panties snagging against his smooth, rock hard cock. And he can’t keep his eyes off it, how your fingers don’t even wrap around half of his fat length.

“I-Is this okay, Stevie?”

SMACK.

“Daddy! Sorry, I meant daddy!” you cry out, your ass blooming with pain after his huge palm cracks down on it warningly.

“Mm, sweet sexy little baby girl,” Steve murmurs, watching intensely while you jack him off with your black lace panties in your hand, running them up and down his thick cock. “Jerking daddy off with your hot little panties that you wore just for me, right?”

“Didn’t-Didn’t know you were gonna be here!” You squeak out, regretting your decision to be truthful immediately when his hand cracks down on your bare thigh in another sharp slap.

“Say you wore your sexy little panties for me.” He bits down on your shoulder, tearing the skin with how hard he does it. As if he can’t help it, and you cry out in pain and yet you’re still feeling so much pleasure from rutting against him, chasing your own high while at the same time serving him and doing what he wants you to.

“Wore them for you,” you whine, bucking your hips with more frenzy now. The way he was speaking to you, oh it was getting you so fucking turned on and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was making your brain melt, only the submissive part of it reigning over every other rational side, and you pant when your clit catches against the denim of his jeans. “Daddy, please. F-Feels…feels…”

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos at you, voice dripping in condescension. And you feel so small, almost like a delicate little fairy in the domain of a literal God. That’s how powerful and big he looks to you in this very moment, like you’re at his mercy and you’d do anything for him. “You like jacking me off, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I – I…”

You’re talking gibberish, and desperately chasing your own pleasure as you continue to rub against his leg. And yet you look down at his dick, how fat and thick it is, how it makes your hand look so tiny. How he’s got you jacking him off with your own lacy panties, how he’s watching it so intently and you can feel his cock hardening even more, if that’s even possible.

“You like my cock, princess? Like how big it is?”

“Yes!”

He grins devilishly, “You want it inside you, baby?”

Your jaw drops. He wouldn’t, would he? Oh, would you let him? Right now, your lust-crazed mind can’t find a single reason as to why not.

“I’d fuck you so good,” he whispers beguilingly into your ear, like he’s the devil himself persuading you to do something that you’re sure you shouldn’t be doing. But why not?! It wasn’t like you had a boyfriend! Ari had made that crystal clear! “Bounce your cute little pussy on my big daddy dick till you pass out on top of me. Would you like that?”

You whimper once more as his hand reaches down between your legs, and you gasp when he spreads your sopping folds. Now, you can feel the rough denim of his jeans even better, your engorged clit practically crying as it throbs uncontrollably. The rough pads of his fingers rub against it rhythmically, and you grind back up against his hand, humping it like you’re nothing more than a bitch in heat.

“Answer me,” he slaps your pussy hard, the squelching sound echoing across his bedroom, mingling with your scream of pleasure which only eggs him on. Again, he slaps you down there, and then another time. Till you’re quivering and crying and humping blindly against his palm, spreading your arousal all over him.

“I’d like it!” you cry out, a part of you ashamed with how easily you’ve given in to him.

“Mm, you know you’d have to be carried out of here after I’m through with you,” he says, manhandling you on his lap, dragging you back and forth on his thigh and creating the most delicious friction you’ve ever felt. “Not that I’d ever let you leave, baby girl. I’d keep you under my wing, in my bed because that’s where you belong.” He gives your ass another harsh slap that has you howling, “Say it. Tell daddy where you belong.”

“I-In your bed,” you manage to get out, feeling like you can hardly string a sentence together because all you can really focus on is the intense pleasure that’s building up inside you. “I…I belong in your bed, daddy, I don’t… I can’t… I…oh!”

Your release takes you by complete surprise. You squirt everywhere, on Steve’s cock, his shirt, and some even lands on his face. He smirks, swiping his finger over his cheek and sucking on it, his eyes glinting darkly. So dark and with such hunger, almost like he wants to eat you.

“Sweet little princess pussy,” he murmurs while you melt in his arms, unable to hold yourself up. Your legs are shaking like crazy, and he hugs you tightly against his chest, although one of his hands covers your own, ensuring it stays pumping his dick no matter what state you’re in. “She tastes so sweet, baby girl. How is she so sweet yet so naughty at the same time?”

Despite everything, his dirty talk has you feeling sparks down there again. Oh fuck.

“Steve, I–”

“Nobody told you to stop, princess,” he says darkly, bouncing his leg underneath you and causing you, in turn, to bounce on top of him. Your poor, sensitive pussy, still reeling from the remnants of your strong orgasm, “Get back to it. Hump your little pussy on daddy’s leg until I tell you to stop.”

Knowing you’re weak to the point of almost passing out, he’s got a firm hand clamped on your own, and he starts making you jack him off again. Rubbing your hand up and down his cock, your black lace panties rubbing alongside. The sight alone gets you going again, and once more you feel a spark of pleasure down there.

The party’s going on in full swing downstairs, heavy music blaring and yet all you can hear is the sound of both of you panting and moaning. His sweet voice uttering the dirtiest of things into your ear as you both masturbate each other. And it’s so raw, so primal, how you writhe on top of him like a goddamned animal, how he’s got the most carnal look in his eyes as if he’s a beast and you’re a lamb and he’s about to devour you.

He kisses you, and it’s so sloppy and animalistic, and you’re shocked at how desperately your lips work against his. How his hand wraps around your neck, how your fingers card through his hair. He spits into your mouth, biting and sucking at your lip till you taste the metallicity of your own blood. Or his. You’re not too sure.

The air is hot and thick with sex, and his dick twitches in your hand, so ready to blow and that’s when his fingers squeeze around your throat.

“You ever gonna walk into a party unattended ever again?” Steve grunts, pinching and bullying your throbbing clit like he owns it.

“N-No!”

“Damn right. Where do you belong, baby girl?”

“In-In your bed, daddy – oh-oh my!”

You squirt again, and this time, Steve follows suit. You watch, entranced, as he blows his load. Streaks of hot, white cum land on your hand, your black panties, your stomach, your face, everywhere. And you cum so hard, you can feel your pussy cramping with how intense the pleasure feels, waves of it radiating through your very being, egged on by Steve who keeps rocking you against him, muttering profanity under his breath as his thumb circles your poor, overwhelmed clit.

“Good girl,” he says after a few moments, looking like he’s barely broken a sweat as he pats your cheek. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. I needed that.”

And you watch with wide, glassy, fucked out eyes as he takes your poor, tattered panties, the ones you’d used to jack him off, now drenched in his thick cum. He brings them to your mouth, prodding them against your lips.

“Open, baby,” he commands softly. And you do, and to your shock he places the panties in your mouth, a smirk on his face, “Suck.”

You suck Steve’s cum from your own panties, unable to get over how hot your poor, frazzled, cock-drunk mind is finding this debauchery to be. He tastes salty, manly, and you feel so submissive, so under his mercy as he watches you suck like a good, obedient little baby.

“That’s right, swallow it all,” he murmurs, “You like that, don’t you? You like being a little cumslut baby?”

 You whimper out a quiet “y-yeah” and he nods in approval, finally taking the lacy fabric out of your mouth, holding it tight in his fist. “I’d make you put ‘em back on but…” His voice trails off, and he chuckles as he throws your poor, torn panties somewhere on his bed behind him.

All you’re able to do is sit on his lap like a little doll. And he’s not even done with you, still fondling and touching your body, squeezing and hugging you close like you’re a doll and you can’t get enough. He’s particularly enamoured by his cum staining your stomach and chest, and he gathers some of it with a swipe of his finger.

“Does your baby cunt want some?” Steve asks devilishly, and you gasp, again just watching as he puts his hand between your legs again, this time opening your folds and spreading his cum into your poor, sensitive pussy. “Look at that, baby. Your greedy little cunt swallowed it right up.”

“Steve, I…”

“Shhh, baby girl. You don’t need to say anything.”

You’re thankful for that, still reeling from everything that’s just happened. Oh, you hadn’t expected all of this! Hell, you’d been forced to come to this party against your will, and now… Oh gosh, how had things come to this? How did you even feel about it? How–

The bedroom door is thrown open. You yelp, holding the big varsity jacket around you as you turn around to see a burly basketball player standing by the entrance. Steve growls at the intrusion, holding you closer against his chest. “Bucky, what the fuck?”

“Sorry for interrupting, Cap, but they’re all here. The St. Andrews’ assholes. Everett, Drysdale, Levinson… He’s looking for her, I think he knows she’s here.”

What?! ARI WAS HERE?! Oh, how dare he?!

Steve picks you up and places you on his bed before getting to his feet, muttering profanities under his breath. “He knows better than to fucking come here.”

Shakily, you try to get to your feet but to no avail. Your legs are still shaking. “M-Maybe, I should–”

“Stay right here.” Steve says, an air of finality in his tone that indicates he means it as an order with zero objections. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

THE END! guys!! I'm literally so insecure about posting this. Idk, I just feel like lately I've lost my mojo, like my writing has lost it's spark? But I pushed on because I wanted to get something out for you guys. And honestly?? BRO I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO END IT bc I wanted this story to continue bc WDYM ARI IS HERE?!?! I wanna see the confrontation lmfao!

But anyways, just to be crystal clear - THIS IS JUST AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DRABBLE! It has nothing to do with the original wicked games story! That's why I wrote Steve here like how he is in chapter two of wicked games, and NOT like how he is in chapter 3 and 4! He's gone through a lot of character change and development in the original fic, but I didn't want to show that here! THAT IS IT'S OWN STORY HEHE. i know yall get it but i'm still reiterating lmao.

ANYWAYS. what did you guys think??? PLEASE PLEASE let me know! feedback genuinely would mean the world to me. I'm so fucking insecure about this fic it's like I've forgotten how to write!!

BUTTT. as usual here are some questions (you don't have to answer them, you can write whatever feedback you want but just in case hehe)

1 - HOW WAS THE SMUTTT??

2 - Do you think they would've gone all the way and had sex had they not been interrupted??

3 - How did Ari even know she was at this party??

4 - Opinions on our fav gal Wanda in this chapter?

ANYWAYS i love you guys, thanks for sticking by me and supporting my writing especially lately when there hasn't been many updates. LOVE YOU. pls lmk what you think!

[motorsportbarbie13]

Christmas Showdown

In which you and Lando run into an ex-boyfriend while you're home for the holidays.

Warnings: talk of abusive relationship (no details though). Established relationship. Protective Lando. This could probably be better and it's pretty short buttttttt I needed to get this out of my head, so enjoy! Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1.8k words

Master List

It had been several years since you spent the holidays in your small Midwestern hometown. Usually, your family flew out to London or Monaco to spend the holiday’s with you there, much preferring to leave Michigan’s several feet of snow that was typically on the ground during Christmas. This year was different thought. Your grandmother had been too ill to make the long flight so instead, you came to them. Which was fine with you, you had missed seeing friends that were home for the holidays and missed the nostalgic nights spent around the Christmas tree with your family. The one person who was not fine with it, however, was your boyfriend. 

Lando Norris simply hated the cold. He hated being cold. Hated thinking about the cold. Hated the snow. Anytime the temperature dipped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit ( which also a fight you two had often was how he refused to learn the difference between Fahrenheit and Celsius while also simultaneously refusing to do the same for him.) So you knew he must really be down bad for you when he had agreed (albeit a bit sluggishly) to spend the Christmas holiday with you in your (freezing) hometown. 

There was minimal complaining for the first few days you were at home, mostly because it the weather was fair enough to not be something comparable to the North Pole, but trouble arose the day of your Aunt and Uncle’s infamous Christmas party. The first sign of trouble was your brother’s insistence on a family outing to the sledding hill that was a few miles from your house. Of course Lando had packed several parkas but when he had seen the Canada Goose store in the mall the day before, he had bought the thickest, best cold rated puffer jacket he could find. Despite that and several layers of long johns and sweaters, by the time you reached the sledding hill your poor boyfriend was shivering like your grandma’s ancient chihuahua. 

To his credit though, there was not one single utterance of a complaint or plea to go back to your parents house for a cup of hot chocolate then entire time. Lando happily chased your nieces and nephews around the sledding hill and even went down the hill a few times with you. 

“Okay, folks!” Your dad calls out as the afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. “I think it’s time we all head home and get ready for Judy and Steve’s party tonight. I expect everyone to be at their house by 7pm sharp!” The ‘this reminder is for your benefit’ look that your dad sends you has your already wind chapped face turning even more red. 

“I don’t know why you’re glaring at me! I’m always on time!” You shout, grabbing for Lando’s hand. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” 

Once you get in the Range Rover that Lando had rented for the two week visit, he immediately turns the heated seats on full power and cranks up the heat. 

“Do you want to swing by Starbucks and get something warm before going home?” You ask as Lando pulls out of the park and onto the snowy street. “I feel like I might need to just get you an IV of hot chocolate at this point.” 

Lando gives you a sidelong glare. “I think I have icicles in my nose hairs.” 

Laughter tumbles out of you, quick and light, sending a thrill of pleasure down Lando’s spine. You two had been dating for a few years now and there were still times he’d look over at you and think ‘how the fuck did I convince this girl to be my girlfriend?’. You had come into his life at a particularly challenging time and had been his rock since day one. 

“Starbucks it is, my poor little snowman. There’s one up here in this strip mall. Turn left at this light and then it’s on the right.” 

The parking lot, which is a shared lot with several other big box stores, is an absolute zoo and you can see the line snaking around the inside of the Starbucks before you even go in. To save some time, Lando drops you off at the front door while he goes and finds a spot for the large SUV. 

The line is long when you get inside but you’re thankful to at least be out of the bitter cold. While you wait in line, you mindlessly scroll on your Instagram, which is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Going private on all socials and not being featured heavily on Lando’s had been one of the things you two had agreed upon when things started getting serious nearly two years ago now. People who were huge Lando fans knew who you were but the casual F1 fan probably wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup. 

Your casually scrolling, minding your own business, when a deep voice calling your name jolts you out of your little social media bubble. 

“Jeff?” You sputter, surprised to see your college boyfriend standing in front of you in line, huge smile on his face. 

Jeff had been one of the guys you and your best friends had drooled over in high school, having been nearly two years ahead of you when you were teens. You didn’t start dating him until your freshman year of college, when he was already a junior. To say the man was toxic was an understatement. In fact, now that you had a few years distance between the now and the end of the relationship, you could confidently say Jeff had been pretty abusive. 

“Hey, stranger!” He says, leaning in for a hug. You go completely still, totally unprepared to be faced with the man who had caused you so much trauma in the two years you had dated. “I have’t seen you in ages, visiting your family for the holidays?” 

You toss a look over your shoulder, desperately wishing for Lando to come walking in the door. “Uh, yeah. First time in a few years. I usually fly them over to London or Monaco for the holidays.” 

A dark shadow passes over Jeff’s face at the mention of where you live now. “Monaco, huh? You always thought you were too good for us here, didn’t you?” 

Your stomach twists painfully at the look in his eyes and you briefly consider just turning around and walking right out of the Starbucks without your drinks.

Before you can stutter out a response, a strong pair of large hands wraps around your waist as Lando drops his head onto your shoulder. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Love of my life." Lando croons in your ear, not yet picking up on your body language. "I adore you but why the fuck did you have to be born in a place where the air hurts your face?” 

You laugh stiffly despite yourself. “Talk to my parents about that one, love.” 

Lando drops a kiss on your cheek before looking over at the other man. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 

Across from you, Jeff had been watching this exchange between Lando and you with an increasing amount of annoyance. Who the fuck was this and why was he calling you the love of his life? 

“Lando, this is Jeff.” You turn slightly, giving Lando a knowing look which he catches onto immediately. “Jeff, this is my boyfriend, Lando.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Only heard that name twice before, once in Star Wars and…” Jeff’s voice drops off as he finally makes the connection. “Wait. Lando…as in Lando Norris?” 

The smug grin that stretches across Lando’s face nearly has you giggling. “That’s me. And you’re Jeff, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good.” 

Lando remembered the first time you had ever opened up to him a few months into dating about how you had been in an abusive relationship in college and how much work it had taken to recover from it. He had been your first serious relationship after leaving Jeff, having left the country just to get away from him. Internally, Lando raged at the man standing in front of you two, the protective instinct in him screaming to just lay the guy out right here.

Jeff’s already ruddy face turns red with incandescent rage. You had totally forgotten he was a big Formula One fan and when you remember the fact that not only is he an F1 fan, but a huge McLaren fan, the urge to giggle hits you again. Oh, this was just too good. 

“How’d you…” Jeff stutters. “How’d you manage to bag yourself a Formula 1 driver?” 

The question is a pathetic attempt to rile you up and insult you but both you and Lando see that question for exactly what it is. 

Lando plants another kiss on your cheek and you know he’s doing it to be an asshole. “I was actually the one who pursued her. She turned me down left and right for nearly a year, didn’t you baby?” 

You nod, remembering the way Lando had come into your office at the McLaren Tech Center day after day just to make small talk at first but finally had worked up the nerve to ask you out. You were one of the newer people on the comms team back then and you hand’t wanted to jeopardize the career you had worked so hard for so you had turned him down for nearly a year, insisting that you wanted nothing more than a friendship with the driver. 

“But eventually, he wore me down. He flew me to Monaco and took me out on his yacht for our first date, it was all very romantic.” It had actually been Max’s yacht, but Jeff didn’t need to know that bit. 

You can see Jeff practically seething at this point, knowing that you’re doing so well and he’s still apparently stuck in your hometown. 

“And how are you doing, Jeff? Still working at your dad’s law firm? How is Vance doing? And Laura?” You know it’s killing him, asking about his parents by their first name. 

Jeff just blinks at you for a few moments, realizing you weren’t the little girl he used to push around and take advantage of in college anymore. “Made partner last year, actually.” 

“That must be easy to do when your dad owns the practice, huh?” Lando says, voice nothing but light innocence. 

Jeff’s eyes bounce between you and Lando for several moments before he suddenly reaches into his pocket. “If you’d excuse me, it looks like the office is calling me.” 

“A call from the office the day before Christmas! Gosh, you must be very important, Jeffery.” Lando’s low blow to Jeff’s big ego hits true and without another word, the man scampers out of the Starbucks without a second glance in your direction. 

Once he’s gone, both you and Lando dissolve into giggles, your head finding it’s favorite spot on Lando’s shoulder. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to deck you there are the end.” 

“And mess up his pretty lawyer hands? Honey, I doubt he even knows how to throw a punch.” 

tag list @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Heritance

There's not much left for Tim in his parents' wills. Or, well, not much by his standards - the rest of the family, barring Bruce and Damian, think he is absolutely loaded and too full of himself to care. Which is maybe a little bit true; receiving about a dozen properties across the world, a trust fund and a wide collection of artifacts that his parents have accumulated through years of their archeological escapades is a lot by middle class standards.

But Tim knows how much money Drakes actually had, and a few old houses and an assembly of junk seems like not much in comparison.

In any case, it's all rather useless in Tim's position. He has no interest in traveling aside from when he has to for a mission, and he couldn't give less shits about archeology even if he tried. The trust fund is fine, he guesses, but it's not like he needs it, what with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of the Wayne Wards.

So, as morbid as it is, the best reaction he can muster at his inheritance is a shrug and a mention in his mile-long list of 'things I need to figure out when I have time'. Which basically means he'll maybe get to it when he's old and retired, and not any sooner, because Tim Drake the CEO and Red Robin the vigilante are both very, very busy people who never have time.

Naturally, his life has other plans, and it's only two or three months later that Tim finds himself breaking through the balcony window of his own apartment in Praha.

It's at that moment, when he's lying on top of a soft persian rug, surrounded by glass shards and wondering if this move was enough to lose his tail that he realizes his inheritance might be slightly more than just a few properties and some boxes with old things.

Because, through his own heavy breathing, he hears a thoughtful, slightly sarcastic voice from inside the room, "I guess the door was too hard to figure out for you, wasn't it."

He sits up, turning his head so sharply it almost snaps. His eyes immediately fall on a boy not much older than him, sitting with one leg thrown over the other on the dark red couch near the wall. He looks like he clearly belongs here: white, vintage collar shirt and black, high-waist trousers, a silver ring on his thumb that looks too old to have been bought in this century, dark raven hair and perfect porcelain skin.

And he is reading a newspaper. Like a slightly bleeding costumed guy in a domino mask breaking the window and falling onto the carpet is just another Tuesday.

Hold on, this is Tim's house! He double-checked the address, there's no mistake!

"Who are you?" He demands, frowning, as his hands reach to the birdarangs out of habit.

"Keeper of Doors," the boy answers, not looking up and flipping the page, "And you're the Drakes' heir, I assume."

Tim blinks. The response provides no actual answers, it only creates more questions. "What doors?" He asks because the rest of the points can most likely be addressed later. Like the issue of his busted secret identity, right.

The boy sighs and closes the newspaper, folding it in half and uncrossing his legs to sit a bit straighter. "Doors, capital 'D'. The ones that lead everywhere you want."

"The what?.." Tim repeats, dumbfounded and lost in this unexpected nonsense. The boy gives him a truly unimpressed look, his eyebrow twitching. Then, he stands up - Tim's fingers close around the birdarang again - and steps towards the nearest door, grabbing the handle. His feet make absolutely no sound.

"Drake manor," the boy announces and pushes the door open. He doesn't step through, however, instead just standing in the doorway and turning back to Tim, gesturing for him to look.

Tim does.

Seeing the familiar hall, the one he's seen so many times, the one he walked through every day before he moved out, makes him realize a few things at once. One, he needs to revise the list of houses he inherited since it looks like they are not just properties but a map of teleportation points, most likely. Two, his parents knew full well he didn't need the trust fund, it wasn't for him, it was probably for this boy, who may or may not be the, well, gatekeeper. Three, if the first part of his inheritance turned out to be this, he is going to need to call in Zatanna to sort through the collection of his parents' artifacts lest something turns out to be actually cursed in there.

Four, he's been staring at the boy and gaping like a fish for longer than its socially acceptable.

"...What's your name?" He asks, suddenly conscious about the fact he was kind of rude before. The boy snorts, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closes the door back.

"Danny," he introduces and snaps his fingers. The glass shards around Tim move all at once, rising from the ground and going back towards the window, like a reversed video recording. A second later, the balcony window looks as good as new, not a crack in the glass. "And you?"

"Red Ro-" Tim starts, but then pauses. Fuck it, he might as well, "Tim."

Danny waves his hand in the air, like snatching something out of nowhere, and, just like that, there's a box that looks suspiciously like a first-aid kit in his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Now, get over here and stop ruining my carpet with your blood."

[casscainmainly]

Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[solarhysm]

"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]

one shot

> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

> pairing: jungkook x reader

> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)

> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)

> word count: 2.8k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone at his parent’s house. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.

Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.

Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.

“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.

Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.

“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.

Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.

As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”

“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”

“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”

“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”

“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.

“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.

“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.

“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.

His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.

“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.

“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.

“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.

You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.

“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.

You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.

“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”

“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.

“Hm, you?”

“Hm.”

You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.

“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.

“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he replies.

“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I came with some friends.”

“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”

“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”

Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.

“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.

You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.

You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.

After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?

Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.

He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.

“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.

“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”

“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.

“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.

“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.

“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.

Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.

“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.

You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.

He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.

“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.

“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”

“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.

He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.

His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.

When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”

“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.

Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.

“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.

“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.

The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.

“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“

You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.

“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.

For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.

“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”

You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.

“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.

“Jungkook. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza

[deansbeer]

Please please please I BEG for more dad bod!dean. Whatever you want. I am on my KNEES.

SCHOOL NIGHT CHAOS.

༝༚༝༚ synopsis. as you and dean walk through your daughter's school for parent teacher conference night, he feels self-conscious seeing the younger, fitted dads there too.

ⓘ warning(s). fluff, fem!reader, body image insecurity, dad bod!dean, mentions of aging, gentle comfort, dean comparing himself to the younger dads.

༝༚༝༚ kari notes. i got inspo from my baby sister's lil open house nights she would have at school <3 and i needed some fluff with dad bod!dean !!! + i used my favorite gorgeous cowboy sheriff, bc that's how i also picture dad bod!dean <3 if u don't, that's so okay u aren't obligated to!

the school smells like crayons and glue sticks and faint cafeteria pizza. a little too warm inside, the way most elementary schools are, the air thick with the chatter of parents and the squeals of overexcited kids.

your six-year-old is practically vibrating as she tugs on dean's hand, dragging him down the hallway, her tiny voice echoing off the walls.

"daddy, come on! you gotta see my painting! i made a space unicorn and it has glitter and everything!"

he's trying to keep up, but he's also distracted — eyes darting around, taking in the crowd around you.

you catch the way his jaw shifts. the way his hand tightens in your daughter's. "what?" you ask softly, nudging him with your shoulder.

he grunts. "nothin'. just… jesus, look at these guys."

your eyes flick across the hallway. a few younger dads stand near the art display, all tight jeans and gelled hair, talking about crossfit or whatever the hell they do when they're not being smug.

"they're probably twenty-five. you're not even old," you say, knowing exactly where this is going.

he scoffs under his breath. "i feel old, baby. they look like how i used to. back when i didn't have a beer gut and a back that cracks every time i bend over."

you glance at him, the curve of his stomach under the flannel he didn't bother buttoning, the soft stretch of his jeans over thick thighs, the way his neatly-trimmed beard's coming in more silver than gold these days.

he looks good. like, really good.

"you're not fat, dean," you say. "you're just... broader."

he gives you a look. "broader?"

"yeah. like… more to love."

he lets out a dry chuckle, but his ears pink a little.

"daddy, look!" your daughter yells, flinging herself at his side, pointing toward a crooked line of construction paper planets hanging from the ceiling. "that one’s mine! see the pink one with wings?"

"you put wings on saturn, baby girl?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

she nods proudly. "it's a space unicorn planet, duh."

he grins, ruffles her hair, and mutters, "it's beautiful, sweetheart."

you walk slow through the hallway, hand brushing against his, your daughter darting ahead and then running back, her sneakers squeaking on the tile floor. she clings to your husband's arm at every turn, bouncing on her heels, talking a mile a minute about what her teacher said, who got in trouble for throwing crayons, and how she wants to be a "space vet" when she grows up.

"is that like… vet for space animals?" dean asks, leaning down.

she nods solemnly. "even aliens need doctors, daddy."

he hums thoughtfully. "can't argue with that."

you look over at him again, the way he moves slower these days, like his knees aren't what they used to be. the way he adjusts his flannel every time he sees someone younger walk by. how he keeps pulling his sleeves down like he's trying to hide the softness in his arms.

it breaks your heart a little.

because yeah, he's not twenty-five anymore. not all lean muscle and sharp jawline. but he's still him. still dean.

still the man who carried your daughter out of the lake when she slipped on a rock last summer. still the one who gets up with her when she has nightmares and sits in her tiny pink beanbag chair until she falls back asleep.

still the man who kisses your shoulder every morning before getting out of bed, even when he thinks you're still asleep.

you wait until your daughter's distracted again — poking at some clay sculptures on a table by the wall — and you step in front of him, hand flattening against his chest.

his eyes drop to yours, a little surprised.

"you know i love you like this, right?" you say softly. "the way you are. now. not ten years ago. not 'back then.' now.”

he starts to say something probably a dumb joke, some self-deprecating grumble, but you cut him off with a look.

"you're still the hottest guy in any room, dean winchester. and the fact that you're here? walking these halls with your daughter clinging to your arm, looking at fingerpaint and glitter glue like it's fine art? that's hot."

his throat bobs.

"you're not just hot," you add, voice soft and low, "you're good."

he blinks a few times, then looks away like he's trying to hide how much that hit.

"yeah, well," he mutters, clearing his throat, "you're biased."

"obviously," you say, smirking. "but i'm also right."

he grabs your hand, gives it a squeeze. doesn't say anything for a second.

then, under his breath, "thank you, mama."

you both turn just in time for your daughter to come racing back, holding a wrinkled piece of paper with marker smudges and a glitter mustache drawn on a stick figure.

"this one's us!” she beams. "i made it today! mommy has hearts, and daddy has a big belly 'cause he always eats the last cookie."

you and dean both burst out laughing.

he scoops her up, tucks her under his arm like a football.

"damn right i do," he says. "earned that cookie belly fair and square."

and as she giggles and kicks her feet, and you walk down the hallway surrounded by fingerpaint and foam stars, dean finally stops looking at the younger dads.

because he's got everything he needs right next to him.

@ deansbeer is tagging you .ᐟ @titsout4jackles @daylighted @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @blue-d @bluemerakis @stereotypicalbarbie @funkycoloured @fuckedupfate @deanswidow @beausling @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @tinas111 @0ccvltism @figthoughts @deanswifeyy @dollyfiles @blue-d @cupidzbunny @tallandcunt @kamisobsessed @pieandflannel @faiszt @apocalyqsc @coquitokisses ╱ wanna be added? join my taglist <3

[lady-ashfade]

Matching flames

Percy Jackson x Soulmate!Reader

-£ Ask: Percy x reader who's his soul mate and he only finds out when she almost dies (could be trying to save him or just because life as a demigod is hard) @poemfreak306

-£ words: 2k

-£ Warnings: Reader being injured, soulmate au, blood & cuts, reader almost dying, angsty, comfort at the end, cursing?? (You can also imagine any Percy you want in this)

Could you count all the stars in the sky?

It was almost peaceful looking up at the stars, mind going blank and your body numb. they looked so beautiful and you realize you’ve never quite looked closely at them. burning rocks floating in space that somehow was the cause of so many poems and love stories. if only you had noticed it sooner.

Blood leaked out of your side and the hand you placed over it started to give up trying to put pressure on the wound. The monster who chased you for miles had finally got to you after being so close to camp, to being safe and sound, when it’s claws finally got ahold of you. Its sharp nails dragged into your skin ripping your clothes and stained them with the blood immediately pouring out. thankfully you had one stroke of luck when your dagger pierced its heart and it was quick to fall.

Not much time has passed since then, however it was enough time for you to loss too much blood.

Had the stars always been that pretty? Just a thought as your eyes blur and the only thing left to feel was the thoughts in your head. The sweet smile of your moral parent’s smile, how it felt to laugh with friends and how some part of you still felt on fire. The shore of the camp’s lake appeared in your mind, and sand beneath your feet as you look at someone’s figure. The smile on their face was so familiar…Maybe it was death being nice to you.

you tried to keep your eyes open but they were just too heavy. maybe you could just rest for a few minutes. there was a sense of warmth that took over your body once more as your eyes fade closed.

“He’s coming, not long little one.”

the campfire wasn’t his focus at the moment but he found himself staring into it as his thoughts ran wild. he had just back to camp but this year was so much different. there was so much on his mind that he just couldn’t focus on one thing. about his mother, his father and how he still couldn’t believe he was a Demi god. even after a long time it just wasn’t normal to him.

then a hiss leaves his lips as he clings to his side in pain. it was stinging and felt on fire. he knew how being wounded felt like all to well but nothing happened, he was just sitting. then his finger felt funny like pins and needles stabbed him all at once. from his left annabeth looks at him worried and looking of his confused face.

“What’s wrong?” But the boy just stared at himself as the pain faded away but his hand became numb and weird. He spun it around a few times to look over it, checking for anything causing it but found nothing. not even a bug.

it was your smile that popped in his head. the warm shoulder he always laid on, he could hear the laugh you had ringing in his ears. why? his name was called from your soft lips but it wasn’t like normal, he saw your lips with blood from the corner. reaching out to him like he was your only hope.

“Y/n.” He stood up immediately at the image in his head. looking around for you in the crowd of campers he didn’t find you with your siblings or around your friends. annebeth looked at him worried and stood up with him, ���what is it?”

he knew those trees. he’s seen then a million times. percy knew the grass, but this was different from actually knowing where you were. something was tugging his body and he didn’t need ask where you were. he knew.

his feet moved on their own and he practically ran where they took him and only thought of you. Annebeth stayed behind and told Mr.d that something might be wrong. Percy felt off and not the normal kind he always did. his body felt weaker like it was losing its life. his chest felt off and his heart filled with sorrow.

so when he found you laying in a pool of your own blood he was quick to fall next to you. “y/n” he called out. he checked for a pulse but couldn’t do it right so he leaned next to your nose and listened for your breathing and thankfully he felt some. his heart was pounding when he saw the cuts on your body making his mind wonder to what could have done it. the camp was just a few feet away and you could have been safe.

“Don’t die,” he begged and places his arm under your head, “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” his words didn’t make sense to him when he spoke. how was it supposed to be? what was he talking about.

the new light in the sky made him look up to a shooting star shoot cross the sky. it was truly beautiful. something around his finger pulled again and he felt the small feeling of string so when he looked down it was red and tied around him. following the line he found it connected to you. The string of fate.

his string was tied to yours. you were his soulmate.

“no, no” he wrapped another arm under your legs and left you up slightly. he was staring at your face with tears pooling themselves in his eyes. for the first time he was finally seeing you as what you were. his. but how could the gods be so cruel to take you way from him. Percy wouldn’t let that happen. he’d fight hades himself for you back.

“just stay with me.” there he was carrying you passed the camp line to get you to the infirmary. even in the near death you looked stunning as you away did. he was just to stupid to see it before. 

when they took you away from him he was quiet and stood outside the door and refused to leave. percy even refused to leave the room at first but was yelled at and pushed out, so he had no choice but to leave your side. how could he just stay outside when he could lose the one person that was supposedly to stay with him, to love him, and who was supposed to be with him always? how could he just sit still when he was going to lose it all?

his friends came to sit with him and offered him some kind words and reassurance but not much helped. he just sat down on a chair with his legs bouncing and hands fiddling with themselves as all he could think is about you. about the cuts on your skin and all the blood.

luckily they had gotten you somewhat healed, making you stable and fine. just had to wait for your body to heal.

“Percy,” annabeth poked his shoulder as he stared at the floor. they had left and he could go in now but he didn’t notice. “you can go in now.” Percy turn quickly to her and then at the door wide open now. so he sprinted up and inside to find you laying on the bed peacefully sleeping. annabeth didn’t follow him in because he needed a moment alone. she’d let him have his moment

Percy sat beside your bed the whole time you slept. he’d fed you. he’d brushed your hair out of your face and watched you closely as if someone was out to get you. his hand was always ready to pull out riptide in case but nothing dangerous ever came. his hand stayed in yours while he whispered for you to wake up and how much he was sorry.

“Should have realized it before,” he whispered as he leaned near you. “gosh, I’m such a idiot.” he sighed to himself and ran his eyes over you.

His hands rubbed your own, “Just wake up and I’ll make up for it. For all the time we lost, just let me love you.” His lips pressed to your head as you continued to sleep unknowing to his words but your body healing by having him close.

two days of not getting much sleep himself you’d waken up. his head resting next to your leg as he sat in a chair with his hand on yours, his hair messy. you didn’t remember coming to the infirmary or how you got here. and not percy holding your hand. but you couldn’t let go off it because it was to comfortable like it was made to fit in yours.

when you moved your body since it felt so stiff from probably not moving in days you’d accidentally woke him up. you felt bad as he shot up quickly and looked around panicked with his hand going to his side, probably reaching for riptide. once his eyes found yours it made your heart sink into your lower stomach. under his eyes were black circles and his eyes looked so painful that it broke you, like he’d been crying. he was paler then normal.

A sad smile broke onto his face, he was relieved to see you awake. He let out a small chuckle as his eyes almost filled with tears when he jumped forward you take your head into his chest as a small hug. “Welcome back,” you froze at his hug but let him have his moment. of course you smiled and wrapped your arms around him too. It was nice.

“Percy, how long was I out…How did I get here?” Pulling himself back with a red tint in his chest he sat back down.

“I found you outside the barrier. Y/n, I thought you were dead, you were barely breathing.” his voice broke. “but I got you here and now you’re awake. not dead,” there was that damn smiling again that pained you, like he was convincing his demons something.

humming and nodding your head along you look at your side to see it healed, lifting up your shirt just a little and saw a scar on your skin. it made you frown knowing how big it would be. “If it means anything, I think you’d look badass.” you put your shirt back down and look at him.

he was trying to make you feel better. “Percy when I was- When I closed my eyes I heard something and my body, well it felt different. Do you know anything about that?” his heart skipped a beat and his eyes slightly going wide.

was it obvious how fluster he was? was his skin as red as a tomato, did he look like a fool? “I have to tell you something.” Percy played with his own hands again and looked away for a second. you swing your legs to the side of the bed to stretch.

“Go ahead.”

You watched him closely and you could see he was working himself up to speak. how his body bounced and twitched, he was turning redder by the second. he was cute. and you yourself found your own cheeks turning hot when you looked at him.

“I saw you at the campfire in my mind. I could feel the pain you felt, or somewhat, like I was dying. my body was pulling me to you and I knew exactly where to find you without having to look.” As he explained you listened carefully and tilted your head to the side.

“then I saw it. The red string of fate tied to my finger. I saw a shooting star, then I saw your string tied to my. And for the first time I saw you for the first time, as my soulmate.”

“Oh.” Damnit. That was bad.

Percy nodded and now started to shut down as he watched you, your brain moving to figure out what to say. he just ruined everything. you wished to not be his soulmate, that was it. he didn’t blame you. Percy brought danger whereever he went.

But that wasn’t it. you had been thinking something else. everything made sense to you now. why you looked at him when no one else was looking. why he made you feel high in the clouds when he was near. and how he just fit so well in your life without trying. “Percy,” you call out to him again and move closer and scoot to the end of the bed with your feet hitting the floor.

you should have known from his eyes. as they look at you now it just hit you like bricks, how they were so powerful. as you take his cheek in your hands his breath hitches and holds in his chest. “i’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

he pulled you close to him and held you so tight in how arms as you giggled at how happy he seemed. his laugh made your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll make you happy.” And that you had no doubt about. you pulled back from his grasp and looked at his lips. you needed to kiss him. and Percy knew what you were thinking and wanted the same.

his face moved forward as his kiss captured yours in a soft but passive kiss, his hands moving to wrap themselves around your body as yours wrapped around his neck. it was nice but didn’t end short. after all you both waited for a long time to feel the love of a soulmate and you didn’t know that you craved it this badly.

The stars never lied when it comes to love. And now you knew that he was the burning fire within you.

[lonely-ey3s]

Ride or Die | Chapter One

pairing: rodeo/cowboy!joel miller x f!reader

chapter summary : Going to your county's fair after coming back to your hometown goes a lot better than it has in past years. It usually earns you a goldfish. This year, it earns you a date with a local cowboy, Joel Miller.

chapter warnings: fluff, slow burn-ish, angst, Joel speaks Spanish (translations will be there), reader has a somewhat emotionally abusive father, mentions of grabbing, mentions of a parent being drunk, mention of parental death, switched POV's.

word count: 8.1k

a/n: alright, here it is! chapters will be every other sunday-- alternating with heartlines !! just fyi, i know little about being a cowboy so if lingo is wrong, please let me know, i'm going off purely google.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

Masterlist

Coming back home to Texas was not on your bingo card for this summer.

However, when you caught your ex-fiance cheating on you with your best friend-- packing your bags and taking the first plane back was the only logical thing to do.

You got home about two weeks ago. Your older sister and little brother were more than excited to have you back. Especially your little brother, Wesley.

He had just turned 18, and the two of you have always been as thick as thieves. A lot of the closeness is due to your mom dying while giving birth to him and your dad pretty much shutting down.

However, you stepped in, pretty much raising him.

You and your older sister, Everly, were close as well– as close as sisters could be. She was 5 years older than you, married to her high school sweetheart, and had a little boy who everyone called ‘Bubba’.

She lived just a few miles from your family’s property, but she and Bubba usually made it over to your dad’s daily to help around the house and hang out. 

This past week, Wes has been training for this year’s county fair rodeo show that was happening next week.

You had done the morning chores, which included feeding the chickens and ducks and cleaning out the donkey pen and the stables. You finished with making sure your horse's stable was stacked full of what he needed.

After you were finished, you walked over to the training pen and saw Wes and Trigger running around barrels, getting everything refined for the big event he was competing for. 

“You’ve got to pull back on him on that third barrel, Wes!” your dad shouted, sitting on the edge of the fence, with his arms crossed across his chest, observing. 

“Got it…” Wes mumbled, patting Trigger's side before softly saying to the dark black horse, “Let’s try one more time bud…” 

You climbed up on the fence and leaned against it, “That horse knows how to cut quick. Why are we runnin’ him days before the event?” you said, nodding at your dad and toward your brother. 

“Because it’s not the horse that’s goin’ win the medal, it’s Wes, and if can’t control the damn thing, he shouldn’t compete.” your dad clipped back at you. 

Your dad wasn’t always the warmest to any of you, but more so Wes. Part of you thinks that deep down, he might have blamed him for your mom's death. He was hard on and pushed him, but something always seemed insensitive. It seemed more callous than when he did it to you and Everly. 

“If you push the horse too hard, he’ll hurt himself, effectively hurting Wes in the process…” you tsked and got down from the fence. “Gotta think about that component too, Dad…” You turned around and started walking away.

There was a pause, and then your dad turned his head to look at you.

“Chores done?” your dad bit out, closing the other conversation. 

“We wouldn’t be over here if they weren’t,” you shot back before walking back towards the house. 

You cleaned up for the day and got ready to work in a coffee shop in town.

The goal was to escape the inevitable argument your dad would start with you when he came inside about what happened earlier. 

You left the house before they got in and drove to the shop downtown. It was a newer shop, wasn't here when you left a few years ago.

You order a drink and something small to eat and then set up at a table in the back, near an outlet. 

You grew up in this town, so mostly anyone and their dog knew you. Since coming home all of a sudden, working in a public place was brave but also downright stupid. Everyone and their moms want to know why. What happened? Why isn't Riley with you? Why aren't you wearing your ring?  

You put on your headphones and set your music to shuffle as you start working on a project you must complete for one of your clients in the next couple of days. You knew that in the coming week, things would get busier with the rodeo and fair prep happening. Knowing your dad and how he'd delegate work to you, you just knew your personal time would be limited.

Back in Nashville, you worked as a social media manager for a small boutique and a local up-and-coming musician. Both were highly supportive of your decision to move back to Texas and made things work with you remotely, for which you couldn’t be more grateful for their flexibility. 

You were just about to wrap up one of the posts to send off for approval when you felt your phone buzz on the table. It was Riley,

Can we please talk? I know you said you needed time, but it’s been two weeks– we’ll need to talk this out eventually. 

You scoffed and shook your head, closing your phone screen and muttering, “Talk it out? There’s nothing to talk out, you cheated on me with my best friend of 15 years, you dumbass.” 

You sent off the post for review and then took out your headphones, standing up for another cup of coffee.

You walked to the counter and asked for another latte. The barista said they’d bring it over to you. You smiled and thanked her, but then, when you went to turn around, you bumped into someone behind you. 

“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, pardon me…” You quickly apologized, flustered that you weren’t watching where you were going. 

“No harm, darlin’...” You saw a brown-eyed man smiling down at you, his large, strong hands on your arms, holding you steady from when you bumped into each other. 

You swallowed before nodding and kindly smiling. “Thanks…” His hands let you go just as gently as they held onto you, before you nodded to where you were sitting. “I uh… excuse me,” you said before returning to your table. 

You sat back down and didn’t realize how flustered you were until you saw in the reflection of the computer screen how red your cheeks were. 

You let out a long and slow breath before tapping a few buttons to wake your screen again, refocusing yourself on your work. 

You didn’t see that the man you had bumped into had his eyes still on you from the front.

He was watching you, his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot lightly as he began to think about how he could approach you without seeming too eager. 

He was waiting for his coffee when the barista went to leave the front counter with your coffee in hand.

He cleared his throat and smiled brightly, “Here, why don’t you let me Susie– looks like ya’ll are busier than a hive fulla bees…” He winked and outstretched his hands. 

She nodded and smiled at his gesture to help: “Thanks, Joel. You’re a peach…” She handed him the coffee in a to-go cup with your name and order written on it. 

He smiled and walked over to your table, softly clearing his throat before he set it down next to your laptop, “One cinnamon caramel latte with brown sugar sprinkles…” then chuckled after realizing your what your order was, “Damn darlin’, want some coffee with your sugar?” he lightly teased. 

You looked up, feeling eyes on you, and took out your headphones, light music coming from them. “I’m sorry?” You then saw him in front of you and then the coffee and furrowed your brow. “Oh jeez, I’m so sorry. Did they call my name and I didn’t hear?” You looked past him at the counter, worried you misunderstood them say they’d bring it to you. 

He smiled warmly, “No, I uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you… I just…” he chuckled as he nervously rubbed his fingers through his scruff, “Damn, uh… I’m sorry, I’m usually not like this…” he shyly looked down for a moment, biting his lip before looking back at you, “I just wanted to come apologize for earlier… I uhm, I was a little too eager to get my drink and I shoulda let you leave the damn line before rushin’ into you like that.” 

You smiled softly and waved your hand, dismissing his apology. “I’m sure I had a clumsy factor in the equation, trust me.” You lightly chuckled. “How about we just assume 50/50 responsibility and not get the insurance involved for the fender bender…” you lightly joked. 

He chuckled and nodded, “I’m Joel…” he held out his hand. 

You recognized him from somewhere. However, you couldn't place where. So you nodded and said your name softly, and then your phone buzzed. It was one of your clients. “Oh, um, I’m sorry—I need to take this. Thanks for the coffee. It’s been lovely meeting you, Joel.” You picked up your phone and smiled softly before answering it. 

Joel nodded and slowly backed away, saying your name repeatedly in his head, trying to remember if he knew you, as you looked somewhat familiar as well. He smiled to himself and tucked his hands back into his jeans before grabbing his coffee from the front and leaving the shop. 

1 week later 

Reader’s POV

It was the first of 4 days of the fair. 

You sat in the bleachers with your sister, her husband and son, as well a friend, Tripp. Your brother and dad were getting everything together below in the arena and stables. 

You were dressed in your best. From the best cowgirl hat you've ever owned to your boots. You wore tight jeans and a floral tank that showed just a sliver of your stomach and gave you some cleavage, wanting to get a tan but also mess with some cowboys. 

“Look at that one, he’s a pretty one!” Everly joked, pointing out a cowboy below. He was good-looking, but you could smell his toxic masculinity from where you were. He was winking at every girl that swooned past him and was chewin' tobacco, which was an instant red flag for you.

You chuckled and shook your head, taking a small swig of your water. “Mmm, no, he screams ‘walking red flag’...” You continued to look around. 

Tripp smirked and pointed to another young man, standing by his horse and tightening his saddle, “What about him?” 

You smiled. “He seems kind, but he’s not my type... he's got a baby face,” You nudged him with your elbow. “Plus, I’m not lookin’ for anything serious right now. I’m still trying to figure out the whole Riley thing…” you sighed. 

“Figure what out? What is there to figure out? You're done with him! Right?” he nudged you back, clearly annoyed you were still ‘thinking things over’. 

You tsked and fiddled with the top of your water bottle. “It’s not like that… I just… am not in a place to be in a relationship when half of my things are still back at our place.” You shrugged. “That wouldn’t be fair.” 

“To who? You or Riley?” he challenged. 

You looked at him and bit the inside of your cheek. “Tripp, " you said, raising your eyebrow.

“What?” he looked at your sister. “Ev, tell her… it’s okay to move on.” 

Your sister nodded. “He’s right. Riley didn’t hesitate. Why should you?” she shrugged, “But also, what’s wrong with just havin’ a bit of fun, no strings attached?” she giggled, nudging you with her elbow. 

You nodded and chuckled, “Fine, fine… no strings.” You looked back down and hummed, taking in the cowboys below. 

A few moments later, your dad came running up to the arena’s border, shouting your name, “Get in here! We need you and Buck. Randy’s son's damn horse got spooked and is running amuck!”

Buck was the arena's neutralizer horse. You and he had always helped when things like this happened, as the other horses couldn't risk getting hurt. 

You quickly got up from your seat and ran down the bleachers before jumping over the fence, your dad and you running towards the chaos.

Joel’s POV

Joel had been up since before the birds started to chirp. 

He started his morning by doing all the chores with his dad before they loaded up the trailer and headed to the fairgrounds around 6 a.m.

Joel had a few events he was in today and was eager to get back on the saddle after taking a few weeks off. He had taken time to rest after getting back from the national championship in Dallas. 

He and his horse Moonshine were in the stables around 9 am as they needed to be out to the arena by half past.

The two of them having a quiet moment together to prepare for the busy buzz about to happen for the rest of the day.

He tightened his saddle, ensuring everything was secure, when his dad came in, “How are we lookin’?” 

Joel nodded towards the dusty white horse that was built of pure muscle. He was his pride and joy. He’d spent the last 10 years breeding, training, and competing with horses for his dad. So when his dad told him that Moonshine was all his 2 years ago, Joel poured every minute he wasn’t working into this horse. 

“He’s almost saddled up. I just need to make sure his hooves are clear, then we’ll be good.” 

Santiago, or Santi as most called him, huffed and came around the back of Moonshine. “He’s got competition today. Ricky’s son is competing today; that horse is a beast,” he said, patting the backside of Moonshine’s rear. 

Joel tsked and smiled. “You can have a beast of a horse, but unless the rider knows what he’s doin’ – it won’t do jack.” he looked at his dad as he lifted the first of Moonshine’s hooves to inspect. “Ricky’s boy is a little short upstairs and will get hurt before he wins anything on a horse like that.” he put the first hoof down and moved to another. 

Santi just hummed and took a small breath in. “If you say so…” he clicked his tongue and turned around. "I’ll wait for you by the gate to the arena. Take your time and make sure everything is good, yes?” He began to stroll away. 

Joel nodded, “Yes, sir.” 

—

It didn’t take Joel more than 10 minutes to finish inspecting and preparing Moonshine.

The two of them walked casually out of the barn area. Joel kept his shoulders back and head held high; he exuded confidence as he walked from the barn to the main arena. He proudly wore his national championship belt buckle, which he used to intimidate fellow competitors.

He used a lead to guide Moonshine out towards the arena, which was now filled with guests loudly cheering on another event happening. 

He wore the complete competition outfit, including his cowboy hat, black button-down shirt, jeans, and chaps. His vest had patches from his sponsors on both the front and back.  

His dad was talking to Randy at the gate, a neighbor who had invested in Joel’s bareback and bull riding career. 

Joel tipped his hat as he approached, “Good to see you, Randy. How’ve you been?” he smiled and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. 

Randy chuckled, “Good to see you, Joel! I’ve been better—bad knee!” He tsked before pulling back and looking over at Moonshine. “He’s a beaut, Joel. I'm excited to see him in action today.” He smiled and touched the horse's neck gently. 

Joel turned and touched the other side of the horse's neck. “He’s been a fun one. I’m also excited for us to be back in the arena.” he looked back at the gate and nodded for the gatekeeper to open it. 

Before they opened the gate, a loud commotion and frenzy ensued. Moonshine reared up slightly and chuffed in fear at a loud noise. 

“Shh, shh, steady boy… steady,” he cooed to him, pulling on the brindle to calm and refocus him. 

He turned to see what was happening and handed the lead to his dad.

He was walking up to the gate when the crazed riderless horse ran past. Not long after, another horse and rider buzzed by, trying to herd the crazed horse.

You swung a lasso and shouted at the horse, “Hey, hey!” before throwing it and landing it around its neck. 

The second Joel saw who it was, it was like you were moving in slow motion to him.

You maneuvered your horse to pull back and redirect. The horse in question was headed straight for a group of people so you snapped back and pulled him away.

You hollered, “Woah there boy-o!” 

You wrapped the rope around the horn of your saddle and then clicked your tongue and pulled the reigns to the left. “Here… let's go over here…” You tugged on the rope, trying to get the horse to follow you. 

Your dad was watching from a distance. “Take ‘em to the barn!” he yelled at you. 

You nodded and looked down at your horse. “Alright, Buck, let’s get his poor kid to the barn…” You patted his side affectionately and pulled up on the reins a little. Buck circled around and then headed towards the gate.

You looked back at the horse you were dragging along and smiled, “Let’s go, come on, pretty boy…” You coaxed the horse to follow you. 

It settled and huffed a few times before walking close behind you and Buck. “There we go, that’s a good boy,” you said softly. 

The gate opened, and you faced forward, tipping your hat at Scott, the gatekeeper. “Thanks, Scotty!” you smiled and winked then clicked your tongue and looked ahead of you. “Come on sweetheart…”

You saw Joel not connecting the dots of who it was with the get-up he was wearing.

His jaw is partially ajar, and his eyes are watching you as you moved.

It was like he’d seen God herself. 

You chuckled and looked at Randy, whom you knew, he and your dad were good friends.

“Got yourself a trout rather than a cowboy there, Rand… " You nodded towards Joel, teasing. 

Randy chuckled and then looked at Joel. “Good god, son, close your mouth before you catch a fly.” He swatted Joel's arm.

You giggled, clicking your tongue to get Buck to move faster, as you headed toward the barn. 

Joel snapped out of his daze and looked at Randy and his dad, who were grinning at his reaction.

His dad shook his head, chuckling, “Just keep it in your pants until after the competition-- please and thank you.” he walked past Joel to get into the gate, tugging Moonshine with him, “Come on mijo, you’re up soon.” 

Joel looked back at the barn and smiled, then looked at Randy who was still standing there with a shit eating grin, “You heard your dad, get goin’. She’ll be around all week...” he winked.

Joel competed, and on his way out, he saw you sitting down next to your sister and Tripp.

He saw you lean over and hold onto Tripp's arm, softly laughing at something.

A flame of jealousy burned up his neck. He fixated on you from the back of the arena, watching you interact with those around you, and figured that Tripp was either a friend or, worst case, a very early boyfriend. Either way, easy competition. 

He also noticed that when a specific rider came out, you all went crazy, shouting and cheering loudly. He wondered who that might be and why he was so important. 

Randy came up from behind and stood beside him. He followed his eyeline and lightly chuckled, “Since when are you not already over there markin’ your territory?” he joked. 

Joel turned his head and chuckled lightly. “Mark my territory? What am I, a dog?”

Randy chuckled a little louder and then hummed, watching the barrel racer, your brother competing. “That’s her brother, Wes. Incase you’re wonderin’...” 

Joel hummed and then realized how he knew your family. “She’s Judd’s daughter?” 

“Middle kiddo. She’s the one who pretty much raised Wes after their mom died.” Randy said sadly, looking back towards you. 

“I went to school with her. I remember when her mom died. How did I not recognize her the other day?" He slid his thumb over his bottom lip as he started to think about your interaction. 

“She’s been in Nashville since she graduated. She and that boy she dated in high school moved up there when he got some fancy job,” he gossiped. “You probably didn’t recognize her; she looks a bit different than she did in high school.” Randy remarked. 

Joel ran through his mind, thinking of who you were with in high school, then turned his head, “Riley! That's his name… what happened to him?” he raised his eyebrow.

Randy tsked, “The fucker cheated on her with Amanda." he sighed and tapped his thumb against the railing, "She found out, packed a bag and came back home.” he said sadly then turned to Joel.

Joel’s eyebrow raised, “Amanda, as in her best friend since they were like in elementary school, Amanda?” he asked, blown away. 

Randy hummed as he nodded. “Bingo.” 

Joel scoffed and looked back at you, “So she just had the ultimate fuck over…” 

Randy nodded. “Betrayed by her best friend and fiancé... it doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Joel turned to look at Randy again, and his face showed complete disappointment. “She was engaged? And he cheated on her?”  

Randy bit his lip for a moment, not wanting to divulge too much but he figured Joel should know, “From what I know, the wedding was supposed to be at the end of this summer, but not anymore. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” he kicked his foot into the ground, making some dirt dust up. 

Joel hummed and looked at you, his features softened thinking what you'd been through the last few weeks. No one should go through that.

You stood up and waved goodbye to the group you were with, then put your phone to your ear as you headed up the steps of the arena. 

“‘Cuse me, Rand… I’m going to go try to catch up with her. Apologize for earlier.” He said before hopping the gate and jogging towards you.

You were fast and beat him to the top.

He tried to keep up, but when he got up to the top, the crowd of people and busy traffic of the fair going on around the arena was too much; he’d lost you. “Damn it.” he tsked and dug his boot into the dirt frustrated.

After watching Wes’s event, you felt your phone buzz on the bleacher beside you. You picked it up to see Riley’s name displayed across your screen. Tripp looked over your shoulder and then raised his eyebrow at you. “You need to take that…” he suggested. 

You sighed and nodded. Putting this off was only dragging the dead cat out for longer. You stood and quickly said goodbye, then slid to answer, “Hello?” 

“Hey…” he sounded sad and quiet. 

“What do you want?” you said as you started to jog up the arena steps. 

“I—I… god,” he sighed. "Where are you? It’s so loud!” He sounded annoyed. 

“That’s none of your business anymore, Riley. I asked you what you wanted, so please get to the point, or I’ll end the call,” you said coldly, looking around before gathering where you were and heading towards your car. 

There was a pause, then he sighed heavily. “I just —baby, I miss you. When are you coming home?” he pleaded, his voice soft, almost begging. 

You let out a numb chuckle. “Riley, there’s no us. You fucked that over the moment you put your cock between Amanda’s legs.” You bit out.  

There was another pause. “She’s no longer an issue; I ended it with her. I realized how much I wanna fight for us, for you.” 

You chuckled a little louder then shook your head; this was nonsense. He was nonsense.

“What don’t you understand? I don’t want to fight for us. I don’t want to be with you anymore!" you walked up to your car, "You cheated on me with my best friend for most of our fucking relationship. And then now that I know about it and did the logical thing and left you– now you cut things off with her?” you opened your car door and got inside, slamming it shut, “Riley you’re one stupid son of a bitch if you thought that I was coming back.” you started up your car. 

“Why can’t we start over? Come back home, and we’ll go to counseling or get help, please. Give me a chance,” he pleaded. 

You let him stew in silence before you spoke firmly, “You don’t get another chance. Your chance went out the fucking window when I asked you who was texting you and you lied to my face saying it was a co-worker.” you sat for a moment before lowering your voice, tears forming, “You went the lengths Riley… the lengths… to change the name of her contact to a ‘co-workers’ name so that I wouldn’t get suspicious.” you scoffed, a few tears falling down your cheeks, “That’s some psycho shit. That’s premeditated fuckin’ cheating bullshit.” you shook your head and chuckled a few times, wiping the tears, “God, you know, Amanda probably got her head out of her ass and left you -- and now you’re crawling back to me because when I left, you didn’t even flinch. You let me go.” you took in a shaky breath. 

“I’m here. I’m here now,” he said after a few moments of silence. He knew you were crying. 

Something in the way he said that severed whatever you had holding onto him. You had the clarity you needed; it was time to move on. You deserved more than this, more than he gave you for all those years.  

“That’s not enough.” You let out the breath. “We’re done, Riley. I’ll have movers come and collect the rest of my belongings, your mom's ring will be returned to you, and I’ve already taken care of our financial matters. Don’t ever contact me again.” You hung up the phone and immediately blocked him before throwing your phone in the passenger seat out of anger. 

You hit the steering wheel, your anger boiling over, “God damn it!” then you began to sob softly, not out of sadness, but out of finally feeling free. 

The next day

Joel was walking down the arena steps after running to his truck quickly to grab the correct bit that he had forgotten before his event started. His mind was elsewhere, so he didn't even notice you as he walked past.

Everly saw him and nudged you. “What about him?” she nodded towards him as he walked down the steps and hopped over the fence into the arena. 

You watched, humming softly, then noticed who he was when he turned his head and smiled at someone in the arena.

“Well I’ll be damned…” you chuckled, eyes following him as he walked into the back. 

“What?” Everly looked at you like she was on the edge of her seat. “What?!” she exclaimed. 

You chuckled louder and nodded his way. “I ran into him at the coffee shop about a week ago, and then he was the cowboy that I told you about yesterday-- the trout,” you giggled. 

She gasped, “You’re kidding me, that’s the trout?! That's Joel Miller!” She hit your arm, giggling with you. 

You nodded and kept your eyes towards him. 

She looked that way as well, then looked at you, seeing you slightly blush. “You’re interested in him, aren’t you?” she giggled, a shit eating grin across her face. 

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t say ‘interested’...” You blew off her accusation, trying to act calm and collected, but inside, you could feel your heart pound, and a small amount of heat rose to your cheeks the more you watched him move. 

He was getting Moonshine’s bit adjusted, paying no mind to his surroundings. 

You noted that he looked good handling a horse. He was in complete control. His hands gliding over the equipment confidently. There was something about watching a man with a horse that always appeased you, making you feral. 

Riley didn’t come from the ranch life. His family was wealthy and privileged. They were full of snobby, rich aristocrats who didn’t care for anyone but themselves. Being with him and having that difference in family dynamics created rifts in your relationship. His family tended to look down on you. Behind your back, they referred to you as the ‘dirty ranch girl’. He never stood up for you either.  

Joel hopped onto Moonshine and clicked his tongue, guiding him to where they needed to be. He took his hat off with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other before putting it back onto his head. He looked up to the crowd and noticed you already looking at him. 

You were in a floral sundress, your boots, and to top it off, your cowboy hat on your head. You looked insatiable. He adjusted his hips as he felt a stir below the belt before making direct eye contact with you. “Who’s fishin’ for a trout now, sweetheart?” he mumbled to himself. 

He caught your eye with his and grinned, tipping his hat to you and giving you a slight wink. 

You immediately looked away shyly and couldn’t help the smile that grew across your face, softly chuckling to yourself. 

He chuckled and looked up at the board, seeing how much time he had before he and Moonshine would compete.

5 minutes.

He looked back to you, and you were giggling with the guy next to you, the same guy you were sitting with yesterday. 

Jealousy filled him again, a heat grew up his neck and his lips tightened.

He cocked his head and whispered, "Fuck it." then decided he had enough time to make his way over to you. 

He swung his leg over and off Moonshine, then tied the lead to the fence. “Stay right here… I’ll be right back.” he muttered to the horse.

He jumped over the gate and then started to stroll over to your group. 

Tripp saw and whispered, teasing, “Trout incoming…” then he realized he was actually heading over, “Oh fuck! He’s looking right at you babe! He’s coming over….” he nudged you to catch your attention. 

You hummed curiously and turned to look, the blush on your cheeks betraying you when you found him again. 

When you two made eye contact, he tipped his hat again and smiled at you.

‘Damn it. He’s going to be trouble.’ You instantly thought as butterflies erupted intensely in your core. 

You swallowed nervously and began frantically fixing your dress, clearing your throat. Then, you stood and came down to the fence at the bottom of the bleachers, smiling at him on the other side. “Hey, cowboy…” 

He approached the other side and grinned at the nickname, “How are you doin’ darlin’?” 

You blushed and tilted your head, “I’m doin’ better now that you’re here sayin’ hello.” you flirted, leaning up against the railing. 

He chuckled and ran his thumb against his bottom lip. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out here today?” 

You watched him touch his lip and bit the inside of your cheek to stop you from smiling too much. “I have a brother competing in barrel racin’...” You looked down at his belt and smirked. “Take it you’re competing too?” Your eyes trailed up his body, slowly landing back to his eyes. 

He felt himself harden the way you were drinking him in, the way your eyes landed on his belt. 

He smirked and tilted his head back at you. “I am. I’m out bare buckin’ today and then bull buckin’ tomorrow.” 

You nodded and hummed, “You’ve got some competition in bare buckin’.” You nodded to the arena. “Rob Turner is competing. He's got a beast of a horse I've heard...” You looked over at that rider and his horse. 

Joel looked back at Rob and chuckled, shrugging, “Eh, he’ll be easy to beat,” he said confidently. 

You raised your eyebrow slightly and looked back at him. “Oh really? You think you’re good enough to beat him then, cowboy?” 

He smirked, “Oh, am I no longer called ‘trout’, then?” he teased.

You turned red for a moment then cleared your throat, “Well today you didn’t look at me with your jaw open so wide that you could be catchin’ flies, so no.” you challenged, cocking your head and looking up at him confidently. 

He raised his eyebrow at your playfulness then grinned and leaned forward on the rail that you had your arms folded against. His hands to his arms were straight to hold up his weight. “Well, apologies for the lack of manners yesterday, darlin’. I was stunned by your beauty, and in that moment, my jaw fell open…” he looked at you with a broad and warm smile. 

You hummed, smiling back at him, “Well, I can’t say I haven’t been doin’ the same to you today. I guess we’re even?” 

He tsked, “Oh really? You’ve been swoonin’ over me, huh?” he leaned a little in, “In that case, what can a cowboy do to take you out to dinner then?” he winked at you. 

You leaned in to him and looked down at his lips, biting your bottom lip before you backed up a step and shrugged, “What can I say? I find cowboys attractive.”

He was speechless. He swallowed and chuckled shyly, not knowing what to say.

You saw the effect you had at him and loved it. You relished in your ability to make a man squirm.

You tipped your hat and smirked, “But I find champion-winning cowboys date-worthy…” You took another step back and looked at his belt. “Win that championship today, then you can ask me out to dinner.” You looked back up at him and smiled, blushing as you felt a sense of confidence with him, a feeling of safety.  

He grinned as he looked at you. “I win. I get to take you out?” 

You nodded. “Think you can do that or is that too hard for you to achieve, trout?” you jabbed playfully. 

He liked this side of you. He didn't know you like this in high school. You were the quiet and shy girl, this girl, she was much more confident and he found it very attractive.

He smirked and bit his lip, offering his hand. “Deal.” 

You walked back up to him and took his hand. “Deal.” 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, keeping eye contact with you. 

You blushed and smiled softly, before shyly looking down for a moment before looking back up. “If you win, I’ll be up there with my family and friends…” You gently pull your hand away and cutely put both hands behind your back. 

He nodded to Tripp, “That ain’t your date?” he chuckled. 

You looked to where he was nodding and let out a chuckle. “What if it is?” You looked back at him, grinning. “Give you some competition…” You winked, then turned and started heading up the stairs. “Good luck out there, cowboy…”

He chuckled and pushed off the railing, “Ain’t gon’ need it darlin’! I’ve got a date on Friday night for you and me in the bag!” he shouted as you went up the stairs. 

You giggled and went back to sit with Ev and Tripp. They both were grinning and began nudging you as you all watched him return to his horse. 

After catching the two of them up on your conversation with Joel, you sat back and watched as he and Moonshine entered the pen where they were in before being released.

He found you again and smiled, nodding his head at you before looking down and tying his hand where it needed to go to prepare for the bucking.

While this happened, the announcer shouted throughout the arena, “Alright, alright! Our next competitor is this year's National Champion! He just returned home from travelin’ upstate for nationals… please help me give a huge warm welcome to our hometown champ– Joel Miller!” 

The crowd went wild and you instantly turned red, “Oh fuck me…” 

Tripp leaned over and muttered, “Oh, I fear he will be now…” 

You swatted his arm and gasped, “Tripp!” 

He chuckled and looked at Everly. “Am I wrong?!” he shouted over the crowd, grinning. 

Everly looked at you and shook her head, giggling, “Girl, looks like you’ve got a date this weekend.” 

You looked out towards the arena and couldn’t help but smile, chuckling, “I guess I do…” 

—

As expected, Joel placed first in the bare-bucking competition, out-running the competition by a landslide. 

Watching him compete and win was exhilarating to watch. He was meant to be on a horse. He was also meant to be a cowboy, the way he looked in that damn hat should be a sin.

As the arena started to clear, Joel came walking over after putting Moonshine back in the barn, smiling widely, presenting the new belt buckle he now had on himself.

Everly and Tripp chuckled, seeing him beam, and stood up. Tripp touched your shoulder and said, “We’ll be at the top when you’re done.”

They smiled politely and nodded at Joel before they made their way up the steps. 

Joel smiled warmly and tipped his hat to them before looking up at you as he stood with his leg placed on the bleacher below you, leaning on his knee, “So, sweetheart, what time should I pick you up Friday evenin’?” he looked up at you with soft brown eyes. 

You leaned your elbows on your knees and raised your eyebrow. “Not so fast. You didn’t say you were the national champion!” You tilted your head. “You knew you’d win today…” You grinned. “Now, I think that’s a little bit of an unfair advantage you had there, cowboy.” 

He chuckled and reached up to gently mess with the hem of your dress, looking down, “Maybe I was keepin’ that little fact to m’self…” he looked back up, “That way I knew there would be a guarantee of takin’ you out…” 

You blushed and pursed your lips together, looking away for a second with a smile so wide your cheeks hurt. 

He watched you glow in front of him with the smile you had on your face. He felt his heart pounding against his chest. He’d been on bulls' backs, in bar fights, tamed wild horses, and in some of the most dangerous adrenaline high situations– but nothing made his heart beat this fast and strong like being around you. 

You looked back at him and bit the inside of your cheek, smiling still. “Pick me up at 7.” You stood up and looked down at him, holding out your hand. “Give me your phone…” 

He chuckled and stood straight, looking at you. “Pardon?” 

You giggled, “Do you want my number or not?” 

“Oh.” he smiled and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and holding it up to you, “Yes, please…” 

You gently took it and put your number in, playfully looking at him every few seconds, blushing. 

He smirked and swiped his finger across his bottom lip, his eyes momentarily looking at your body from top to bottom. "By the way, I like this dress on you. You look beautiful.” 

You smiled at him and handed his phone back to him. “Text me later, I’ll send you my address and a photo for my profile pic…” you winked. 

He took his phone but damn near dropped it with your last comment. His cheeks now turned a shade of pink, and he chuckled nervously. “I’ll text ya when I get home…” he looked down at his phone with your contact info on it, shyly. 

You giggled at his reaction and nodded, “Good.” You then gathered your things and started to head up the stairs. “Congrats, by the way—on the national title,” you smiled. 

He looked up and smiled warmly, “Thank you darlin’.” 

You nodded and went up a few more stairs before turning back and shyly saying, “I would have gone out with you win or lose, you know?” You grinned and tilted your head cutely. “However, I’m glad to know I’ll be goin’ out with a county and national champion now…” You winked and then turned to continue up the stairs. 

He chuckled and looked up at you. “You get to go out with a champ, and I get to go out with the prettiest girl in the world— I call that a win-win...”

You blushed and kept walking, shouting behind you, “Stop bein’ a flirt and go home so you can text me, cowboy!” You smiled to yourself, reaching the top. 

He tipped his hat and chuckled, “Say less, darlin’...” Then he smiled as he hurried down the steps and jogged back to the barn to pack everything up as quickly as possible. 

When you got home, you headed to your room to change into something more comfortable. Your legs felt filthy, as a layer of sunscreen and dirt from the fairgrounds covered them.

You start the shower and play soft music when you hear a ding from your phone. 

You walked over and picked it up, seeing an unknown number had texted you, 

‘Hey sweetheart, it’s Trout. 🎣’ 

You chuckled and realized it was Joel. You saved his number and typed back, 

‘Hey there, cowboy. Get home safely?’ 

Almost instantly, a message appeared, 

‘Safely and as quick as I could– what are you up to?’ 

You were stripped naked as you were about to shower. You typed back, 

‘Just about to hop in the shower…’ 

You grinned, then put your cowgirl hat back on. 

You then stood so that your silhouette shone against the wall from the setting sun. You held up your phone and snapped a photo. It perfectly sent a clear message but kept him on his toes. 

You then sent the photo with the text, 

‘Here’s that profile pic I promised you. 💗 Send one back?’ 

A few moments later, you heard your phone ding again, 

‘Forgive me sweetheart– but damn! 😍’

You giggled and typed, 

‘Come on! Send one of you, handsome! One with your hat! ;)’

‘...’ was displayed for a few minutes before a picture of him in the mirror with his cowboy hat on and black button-up partially undone by the collar, smiling with his dimples, came up on your screen.

‘I’ll send you a better one after my shower, how ‘bout that?’ 

You chuckled and set it to his profile picture before typing back, 

‘Deal. Let’s both get today's grime off, and then we can send updated photos? 💗’

‘Deal. I’ll text you when I’m done, but take your time. I’ll be here, cariño.’ (Darling)

You blushed and set your phone down before hopping into the shower, smiling as you thought over the events of the past few hours. 

—

When you got out, your sister knocked on your door, telling you to come downstairs. She said that your dad said it was important, but she sounded somewhat annoyed by the urgency she was told to imply. 

You hurried and got dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater. The way she sounded annoyed made you anticipate the worst. Knowing your dad, he had frequently annoyed both you and your sister with antics, more so lately than ever. 

When you went downstairs, you saw that your dad had prepared a feast celebrating Wes’s win for both events he was in. Friends and family buzzed about the house, excited to celebrate Wes and his hard work. 

You looked at Everly, and the both of you took a breath and hopped into the mix to socialize. 

You both put on fake smiles and masked how you were truly feeling. This wasn’t about your dad; this was for Wes. Who you both wanted to celebrate and who deserved this, no matter how you both felt about your dad. 

You texted Joel when you had a moment,

‘Hey, so something came up after my shower with my family. I’ll text you after it’s all done. 💗’

You put your phone in your back pocket and focused on celebrating your little brother, who you were so proud of. 

—

At the end, after everyone had gone home, you were in the kitchen starting to wash the dishes. You had texted Joel to call you in 5 minutes as you would be done then.

Everly was cleaning up the living room, and Wes went out with friends when your dad came in and cleared his throat. “Ev tells me you might have met someone today…” he probed.

You turned your head to look at him and nodded, keeping your reaction as minimal as possible, “Yeah, she’s right. I’ve got a date this weekend.” You pursed your lips into a tight smile and looked back to the soapy water. 

“Who is it? Maybe I know ‘em…” he leaned against the counter, his arms folded, holding his beer, letting a small smile stretch across his lips. 

You took a moment before speaking up, debating whether or not to tell him. He always stuck his nose in your business; for once, you wanted things to be somewhat private. However, you knew if you didn’t say anything, it would end up in a fight more major than it will be with what you were about to say. 

You chose to bite the bullet and say ‘Fuck it.’ A fight with him wasn’t something new– bring it on.

“Santi’s boy, Joel.” Thinking about him, you smiled but fixed your gaze on the water. 

“Nah, no, you’re not goin’ out with him,” he said in a tone that made you think he was joking. 

You lightly chuckled and turned your head to look at him. “Yes, I am! Why not?” you smiled. “Is it hard to think I can swing one of the Miller brothers?” you joked back. 

His face turned neutral. “I’m serious. You’re not goin’ out with Joel Miller. You know how I feel about that family.” he pushed off the counter and rolled his eyes at you as he took a swig of the beer. 

Your smile dissolved, and you stood there momentarily, processing what he just said. 

After absorbing it, you shook the suds off your hands and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands, raising your eyebrow at him, “I’m sorry, I must’ve miss the part where you have a say in this dad… forgive me but am I not a grown ass woman and don’t need your permission to date someone...” you challenged. 

He scoffed and looked at you, wanting to dig at you, “Well, you certainly aren’t a grown woman if you have to run home when your fiance makes a little accident.” 

You clenched your jaw at that and threw the towel onto the counter. “An accident?” you bit out harshly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d consider cheating an ‘accident’, Dad.” you shook your head in disbelief and looked back at him, “Did you ever do that to Mom? Was it valid enough to be unfaithful to her because it was an ‘accident’ to you?” you dug back. 

He looked at you, and you knew immediately you had tapped on a nerve. The pride you felt was one of the best feelings in the world. You rarely found a nerve, but it was blissful when you did in moments like these.

You tilted your head, getting cocky. “Oh? That seemed to get to you.” You grinned. “Well, guess what, Dad? I don’t give a damn what you say, think or want. It’s my life.” you said firmly. 

He looked down at the ground, then back at you. “You know the Millers are nothing but bad news.” 

“No, Dad. The Millers are bad news because your granddad said they were bad news back in his day. Then he created an unfair, false narrative that has spread to you – come on?" You chuckled mockingly and started to walk up to him. 

“Joel and Tommy were some of the most hardworking and kind boys when I went to high school with them.” You paused and looked at him, your breath catching in your throat. “And their dad?” you paused, “Santi brought us a meal when Mom died, Dad.” You teared up and shook your head, shrugging off anger you were starting to feel. “How can that be bad news?” you choked out.

He looked down at you and clenched his jaw before huffing a breath through his nostrils. “They are nothing but liars and cheats.” he said lowly. 

You felt another heat of anger crawl up your back and needed to step away. “Liars and cheats or just better than you when it came to competition?” You shook your head and went to walk past him. “You’ve always been a poor loser.” you muttered.

He grabbed your arm and turned you to face him roughly. “You’ll treat me with respect, young lady. Got it?” The smell of alcohol immediately hit you from his hot breath that was inches from your face. 

He’d never touched you like this. Never once laid a finger on any of you. You two always would argue or have yelling matches, but he never touched you. 

Your blood ran cold, and your breath became shaky.

You swallowed and looked up at him, eyes filled with fear. “Dad, let go of me…” 

He realized what he had done, seeing the look in your eyes. His eyes softened, and he slowly and softly let go of your arm. “I… God, I’m so sorry.” 

You quickly stepped away from him, holding onto your arm. Your heart was pounding, your adrenaline was pumping, and your mind was racing at what had just happened. 

Your phone dinged in your pocket before it started ringing. 

You pulled it out of your pocket to see Joel’s picture he’d sent you earlier across your screen. 

His dimpled smile instantly calms your nerves and washes a warmth over you. 

You looked up at your dad and clenched your jaw before flatly saying, “Night, Dad.” 

You quickly left the kitchen and ran upstairs to your room to answer the call. 

As soon as your door was shut, you answered the call.

“Hey…” You melted against the door, sliding down to your floor, holding your head in your hand.

“Hey darlin’...” he softly said. You could hear the smile plastered on his face through the phone, instantly making you smile. 

“Sorry about earlier– how’s your night been?” you asked softly. 

“No need to apologize. You had family come up! Nothin’ matters more than that, right?”

You swallowed and sighed softly, closing your eyes and leaning against the door. “Right…” 

He noticed the slight shift in your voice. “Everythin’ ok?” 

“Yeah, just a long night and an even longer story…” you softly chuckled. 

He hummed, “Need to pillow it out?” 

You giggled softly. “Pillow it out?” 

He chuckled, “You know, yell into a pillow or beat the shit out of one?” 

Your giggle grew, and you stood up, walking over to your bed, “‘Pillow it out’… that’s got to go on a t-shirt.” 

He chuckled, hearing your giggle, his stomach erupting with butterflies again. 

You smiled while lying in bed. “So, screaming into a pillow or hitting one? That helps?” 

“It did growing up and has come into use in my later years, I will confess…” he chuckled softly. 

You smiled and hummed, “Well tonight I think just hearin’ your voice is doin’ the trick.” You blushed. 

There was a pause, then he softly spoke, “Why don’t we move up our date to tomorrow?” he said abruptly. 

You chuckled, “Don’t you compete tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, and?” he chuckled. “Come cheer for me. Afterwards, you and I can go to the fair and watch the fireworks. It’ll be fun!” There was another small pause. “And if I’m bein’ honest, I don’t think I can wait two more days to take you out or to see you again…” 

You smiled and blushed, putting your pillow over your face and squealing into it, muting the phone. 

“Hello?” he said after a moment of silence. “Querida?” 

You came onto the phone and smiled, trying to act cool. “Sorry, I, uh, dropped the phone.” You bit your lip as you grinned, “Um, yes. Tomorrow it is.” 

He chuckled and smiled brightly, “Tomorrow then.” he bit his lip then cleared his throat, “Well then, with that being said, I’m going to go get some sleep. I’ve got an early morning. I’ll come see you before my event, ok?” 

You blushed and lightly bit your nail shyly. “Ok…” 

He chuckled again and took a deep breath, “Goodnight darlin’...” 

You sat up and smiled. “Night, cowboy, sweet dreams.” 

Next Chapter

no pressure taglist: @thebeautytoyourbeat, @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7, @queenofdisaster12 @axshadows @mystickittytaco @yxtkiwiyxt @alltheirdamn @punkshort @stylesispunk @iheartoldermem @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem @sp00kymulderr @brittmb115 @poor-unfortunate-soul9927 @spacelatinos4life @pedge-page @pedropascalfab @readingiskeepingmegoing @sincerelywithheartt @youusunshineyoutemptress @lilasskicker-23@melsunshine @wencontre @pedrofan

[iadoreneteyam]

e!42 miles and his girlfriend going to his family barbecue

e!42 miles who begs his girlfriend’s to match shoes with him

e!42 miles who laughs in his girlfriend’s face when she says she wants to make a good impression on his family and says “why would I give a damn if they like you, mami?”

e!42 miles who makes sure his girlfriend has everything she needs to do her makeup as she sits down at his desk and looks into the led hello kitty mirror he bought her specifically for his house.

e!42 miles with a girlfriend who allows him to do her lipliner

e!42 miles who willingly sits in the backseat with his girlfriend when heading to the barbecue even though the passenger seat nexts to his mom is open

e!42 miles who does everything to annoy his girlfriend in the car.

e!42 miles who falls asleep on his girlfriend and drools but immediately denies that he drooled on her when they arrive at the barbecue

e!42 miles who puts his arm around his girlfriend’s waist to move her away from all his family members crowding him and his mom before leaning into his girlfriend’s ear and whispering “don’t want you to be overwhelmed, mami. my family is a bit of a handful y’know.” and kisses his girlfriend behind her ear before backing off.

e!42 miles who fights the urge to punch his cousin in the face when he hears something along the lines of “yeah, I don’t know how Miles ended up with a girl like that.” Miles heard murmurs agreeing before his cousin continued “wayyyyyy out of his league, man. he doesn’t even know what to do with that.”

e!42 miles and his girlfriend who runs to be the first in line to get barbecue when his older cousin yells that the food is ready only to be pushed aside with his cousin telling them “older men eat first.”

e!42 miles and his girlfriend who finally get their food and make and effort to sit away from his family because he “rather be with you than with them, y’know that mami.”

e!42 miles who refuses to let his girlfriend get herself another drink. “Imma get for ya so tell me what ya want, mami.”

e!42 miles who also refuses to let his girlfriend throw any of her own trash away

e!42 miles who immediately brings his girlfriend inside when she claims “it’s so hot, baby.”

e!42 miles who regrets coming inside because everyone now sees it as their chance to question him about the girl he brought

e!42 miles who is so happy to get away from all the hassling and to sit on the couch with his girlfriend

e!42 miles who smiles when he sees his girlfriend with his seven year old cousin in her lap as she helps her play uno against his mom

e!42 miles who comes over to the three of them and asks “y’all got room for one more?”

e!42 miles who groans after he loses to them twice before rushing his cousin off his girlfriend’s lap so he can pull her closer

e!42 miles who swings his girlfriend’s leg in his lap and asks her if she’s having fun

e!42 miles who silently begs his mom to go home once they hit the five hour mark to which his mom keeps waving him off saying “yeah sweetie let me just finish this conversation.” (they did not leave after that conversation)

e!42 miles and his girlfriend who don’t get to leave the party until it’s dark outside

e!42 miles who sits his girlfriend at his desk chair and grabs makeup wipes to help her take off her makeup

e!42 miles who lets his girlfriend take a shower first when they make it to his house so she can get more rest

e!42 miles who gets out the shower only to see his girlfriend still awake waiting for him

e!42 miles who gets in bed with his girlfriend, kisses her on the lips, and says “what I say about staying awake for me, mami ?”

e!42 miles who fights the pout on his face when his girlfriend tells him that her parents said she has to come home tomorrow

e!42 miles who just can’t sleep knowing his girlfriend is leaving in the morning

e!42 miles who wakes his girlfriend up and says “ya think ya parents will let me stay a couple days?”

e!42 miles who breaks out into a grin when his girlfriend tells him “ if you go get me breakfast in the morning I’ll ask, how’s that sound, baby?”

e!42 miles who kisses his girlfriend goodnight

[loveesiren]

Mile High Club - R.C.

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Rafe get a much needed vacation but they can't even wait until they land to begin. (Please ready Baby Daddy parts one & two first!)

Warnings: Smut, nursing kink, language

Word Count: 1.4k+

You'd never been on a plane before. Taking off made you nervous but Rafe held your hand the entire time and soon enough your face was lit up in awe as you watched the world below you from the window.

Juliette was only four months old. Convincing you and Rafe to go on a trip, let alone take a break, was a challenge.

"Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving my daughter." Rafe argued with his parents, bouncing Juliette on his knee.

"You two never do anything for yourselves. You guys deserve some time alone." Ward said, Rose nodding beside him.

"You guys are exhausted. Just take a few days, go to the Bahama house. We'll take care of Jules." Rose added.

You looked over at Rafe and your baby. Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin line at the thought of being away from his daughter. Jules smiled up at her dad, the sight melted your heart. You couldn't imagine being away from your daughter either but some time alone with Rafe did sound really nice.

"I don't know, babe...maybe we should. Just for a few days?" You suggest, running your fingernails over his bicep.

It took some convincing but Rafe finally agreed to three days in the Bahamas. The two of you were practically thrown out of Tannyhill so John B could drive you to the airport. Going back to give Juliette more and more kisses, making sure she had everything she needed, promising to Facetime multiple times a day.

Ward and Rose laughed. You were first time parents, a feeling they remember all too well but they assured you Juliette would be fine and happy with her grandparents and aunts.

Now you were flying high in first class, sipping champagne and snuggling up to your boyfriend as you watched the clouds go by. You both agreed to try to relax and not worry. Ward and Rose raised three kids and with Sarah, Wheezie, and John B all happy to help, you knew your daughter was in good hands.

You shifted uncomfortably as your breasts started to ache.

"You okay, baby?" Rafe asked, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Yeah, just gotta pump." You tell him, reaching for your bag to grab what you need before unbuckling your seatbelt to head to the bathroom.

Rafe has a shit eating grin on his face.

"What?" You ask.

"Can I help?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"Rafe, we're on a plane." You whisper.

"Mhmm," He hums, leaning into you to speak against your lips. "And I need to help my baby momma out." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and grabs your hand, pulling you to the back of the cabin to where the bathroom was located. He quickly opened the door, pushing you inside gently and quickly closing the door behind the two of you before anyone could notice.

He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the bathroom counter. The bathroom was small, Rafe wasn't able to stand up fully but that didn't matter as he was leaning down to press kisses to your jaw.

"Rafe-"

"Don't need this," He muttered, tossing your breast pump to the side. You were nervous, you didn't want to get caught doing this in an airplane bathroom but you couldn't deny the heat growing between your thighs.

He tugged at the hem of your tan top, lifting it off over your head and tossing it to the side before fiddling with the clasp of your bra, placing wet kisses over your skin.

"Fuck, Rafe..."

"Keep saying my name, baby." He demanded, letting your breasts free. "Shit..." He whispered, palming your swollen breasts.

"Rafe, I n-need you to-" You muttered, hooded eyes as you leaned your head back against the mirror.

Rafe didn't hesitate to latch onto your nipple, drinking from you harshly as he massaged your other breast.

You sighed in relief as he sucked. This nursing kink of his had become a common thing. Ever since he helped you out that first time he just couldn't get enough. You found yourself reminding him that you had a child to feed as well. But you had to admit, this was way more enjoyable than pumping.

You wrapped your fingers in his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as his fingers trailed down your body. He lifted your skirt and moved your panties to the side, slowly running a soft finger against your dripping core.

"Please," You whispered against his ear.

Rafe sucked harder as he plunged two fingers into you. You yelped at the sensation and he quickly brought his other hand up to cover your mouth. You arched your back beneath him, grinding against his fingers.

He finished draining you and quickly moved to your other breast, pumping his fingers into you harder and bringing his thumb to rub circles in your clit. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh and you knew as soon as he was done nursing, he'd be fucking you in this tiny airplane bathroom.

Your eyes rolled back as the knot in your stomach built up. Rafe hummed against your nipple as you came on his fingers. "Good girl..." He whispered against your skin and you were grateful for his hand over your mouth because you couldn't control your moans.

"Feel better, my love?" He asked as he finished drinking from you.

You smiled and nodded as you came down from your high. "Thank you," You whisper breathlessly.

"Wanna join the Mile High Club?" Rafe smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

You stared at him through hooded eyes and smiled, nodding your head eagerly.

"Use your words, mama," He says.

"Yes. Please, Rafe..."

Rafe smiles before grabbing your hips and pulling you from the counter, turning you around so you could watch him fuck you from behind.

He ripped your panties down and palmed your ass, spanking you roughly. You yelped once again.

"You gotta be quiet for me, mama," He says. "Don't wanna get caught, do you?" He asks, placing wet kisses down your back.

"I'll try," You whine.

Rafe thrusts into you and you try to stifle your moan, but he was hungry for you. This wasn't like the normal love making you were used to back home. This was new and exciting. It reminded you of when the two of you first got together. All the late nights of Rafe fucking you like his own personal whore. The way you ended up pregnant in the first place. The way you fucked before you fell in love with him.

Rafe pounded into you roughly, biting into your skin to control his own grunting. You hadn't realized you were being loud until he once again clasped a hand over your mouth.

You gripped the sink tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn't been fucked like this in so long. You looked in the mirror, meeting Rafe's feral eyes as he tried not to cum yet. But you knew he was close, and so were you. With the way his skin slapped against yours, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the small room, you couldn't hold on much longer. Then, turbulence hit and it had you bouncing against him harder, sending you over the edge.

You began to vibrate as you clenched around his cock, sending Rafe into his own high. You felt him spill inside you and the feeling was euphoric. The last year and a half you'd spent with this man had you falling more inlove every day.

"Fuck, baby girl...I can never get enough of you." Rafe said, leaning against your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. "I'm gonna fuck you in every room of this house, and on the beach, and in the plane home, too."

You bit your lips at his promise. The thought of having Rafe to yourself for three whole days excited you. No crying, no tending to a teething baby at 2am, no siblings barging in on you. Just you and Rafe Cameron. This was a dream.

Rafe helped you clean up and get back into your clothes. You both hurriedly fixed your hair in the mirror before sneaking out of the bathroom and heading back to your seats. You noticed one of the flight attendants staring at you with a knowing look. You avoided her gaze but Rafe proudly slung his arm over your shoulder, smile wide on his face, completely satisfied with his life in this moment.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[clovermoters]

Omg y/n having to take care of Lando after he caught Josie’s bug 😭 he’s so miserable and jojo feels so bad because she got her daddy sick and just wants to cuddle him all the time. Even worse if it’s race week or media day 🥺

nursed by love - lando norris x wife!reader

a/n: whayayayyaayay this is soso cute thank u for the request ml! i hope i can live up to your expectations <3 !!

warnings - slight mention of throwing up

word count - 730

apart of the josphine elliot norris chronicles

Lando felt like shit, you had been taking care of him ever since he came down with the same bug your daughter Josie had last week. 

Only this bug had hit him harder. 

It started when you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Lando getting sick in the bathroom, it was two days after your girls' night. Josie had felt miles better, your husband however…felt like he had been run over by his 2025 mclaren. 

Now, Lando is thankful this hit him harder than his daughter. He wouldn't have wanted Josie to go through the sickness he's currently battling. The problem was the British grand prix was this weekend, and Lando still was bedridden with you trying to feed him light foods. 

You sat on the edge of the bed next to him and he picked away at the sandwich you brought him, you hated seeing the life sucked out of him. His everyday tan skin is visibly paler than usual, the man was a shell of himself 

“Are you sure it isn't time to let Jon or Zak know?” you ask, pushing him lightly. Your husband has been stubborn all week. His persistence to keep his illness a secret from his team and the media was driving you nuts.

He promptly shook his head. “No, I'll be fine for silverstone. I'm racing.” he finalized. You sighed, patting his leg before returning to the living room where you left Josie on her playmat. The girl had her head low and she fiddled with the dress on her babydoll. 

“Mama… is daddy sick because of me?” the girl asked, looking up to meet your eyes and you could tell she felt horrible, the guilt eating away at the little girl. Your heart squeezed at her concern for her father, how she felt personally responsible for Landos illness. 

You sighed, picking her up to place her on your lap in front of you, smiling at your daughter, you explained, “no sweetheart, it's not because of you. he's not angry with you either, he's just tired and weak. Like how you were when you were sick.” 

the girl thought for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed as she came up with an idea, “can i give him cuddles like he did when i was sick?” she asked innocently. you smiled at her, thinking back how lando didn’t leave her side for 17 hours while she was ill. letting her lie on him while they watched movies and eat her bodyweight in popsicles. 

your heart melts at your daughter wanting to help, her empathy was something you and lando were proud of, taking it as a parenting win for yourselves. Smiling softly at your daughter, you stand with her on your hip and walk down to where you just left lando moments ago. 

“Room for two more?” you ask, lando rolls over in bed, sitting up showing his biggest most genuine smile he's shown in days once he sees you and josie, his two favourite girls, making their way into the bed. 

“‘course c’mere jojo” he coos, you drop Josie at the foot of the bed letting her run into landos awaiting arms. The three of you cuddle into the mattress, josie nuzzled between the two of you as you put on a movie. You always loved having your little family under one roof,  a bundle of warmth and love casting a gentle calm over the room. 

“daddy?” Josie speaks up, Lando coughs slightly, clearing his throat before answering “yeah angel?” “im sorry i got you sick” she mumbles, eyes not meeting landos as he makes eye contact with you over her head, you both physically soften, your heart clenching at the josies guilt. 

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for sweet love,” he leans down, placing a soft kiss to her curly head of hair. “Besides, now I get to have both my girls to nurse me back to health.” he jokes, tickling the toddler, the room erupting into giggles from josie, her laugh spreading a warmth throughout landos heart.

The following day, lando felt much better he went back on solids and began packing for the race weekend, he’s telling you that he beat that cold so good but you know that all he needed was some josie love to help him snap back to health. 

--

eheheh i hope u enjoyy, thank u so so much for reading !!!

[slasherscream]

crazy ass boys gang + reader who threatens to leave (part two: CAPTIVITY) 

warnings: extreme yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. part one can be found here.

BILLY LOOMIS:

The days move at a snail’s pace. There’s little distraction available to you. 

Billy has always thought you were clever. A survivor. It’s one of the reasons he fell in love. That sharpness to you. But it makes you completely untrustworthy, given the circumstances. And the circumstances are this: your life for the last few weeks has consisted of being chained to the bed.

Not all the time. Not when Billy is home, and can watch you. But when he goes to work, or goes off to kill, Billy takes out the cuffs, and meticulously locks your ankles and feet to the bed. The dark look on his face as he does it makes you watch the process in silence. 

He’s been killing more often. You hope, absently, that he’s still being careful to not get caught. In the years since you two had been together he’d slowed down.

Now, it feels like every other night, you were watching him get ready to go out as Ghostface.

You can tell when he’ll go out next by how he treats you the day before. You two don’t talk anymore. You eat together in silence. Sit together in silence. He watches the dark silhouette of your body through the shower curtain, in silence. (You’re never alone, anymore, when you do anything. When you’re allowed to do anything. You don’t have even a sliver of his trust left.)

But how he watches you is the tell. 

His expression has been a mask of neutrality, since the moment you first woke up, cuffed to the bed. 

On the days before he goes out to kill, though? Those are the days where the mask keeps cracking. Small glimpses at the anger sitting in his chest like a second heart, beating steadily. The silence only makes it worse. Makes the anger red hot and blinding. 

It’s the icy silence of a lover scorned, on his part. And yours is the fearful silence of the last survivor of a horror movie trying to evade the killer at the end. 

The two of you used to laugh together. Laugh, and smile, and love each other. But you, apparently, don’t love Billy anymore. 

But Billy still loves you. So he stares at you until he gets too angry to think straight. And he goes out and kills as many people as it will take to keep himself from ever hurting you. 

JOSH WASHINGTON: 

You’re getting sick of hearing how sorry he is. 

He says it endlessly. Like a prayer. Like a compulsion. The words fall out his mouth as easily as breaths do. 

It feels like you wake up to his apologies and fall asleep to them each night. 

Josh only tied you up that one time, at the start. He apologizes about it often. “I panicked. I’ll never do it again. Not ever. I’m sorry.” You believe him, maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. He’d untied you as soon as you’d begun to rub your wrists raw from trying to get out of the cuffs. 

Once upon a time, you used to use those cuffs on him, at the start of everything. Back when Josh felt he was more monster than Human. Back when he didn’t trust himself not to hurt you. You’d obliged him and would cuff him to the bed before you went to sleep each night, even as you whispered: you couldn’t hurt a fly, Washington. 

You feel like a fly now, in a nasty spider’s web. But you don’t even bother struggling. 

When you’d rescued him from the mountains, his parents had set you both up somewhere remote. Not on another mountain, of course, but in a comfortable cabin out in a forest. No neighbors for miles and miles. Everything you need gets delivered to you twice a month. You used to make the lists of the necessities and send it off to the Washingtons, who were only too happy to give you anything you asked for. 

You’re still getting the deliveries, so you guess Josh has taken over that chore of communicating with his parents. 

You could run away. You could. But you remember how hard it was to out run the monsters on the mountain. You remember watching your friends die, one by one. By claws and by teeth, as they tried to run away. You watched almost all of them die. Or found their bodies. 

Josh wouldn’t kill you. Despite everything, you know he isn’t capable of that. 

Sometimes he still reaches out and touches your wrist, where you’d made yourself bleed with the cuffs, and looks sick to his stomach. They hadn’t even left a mark. But Josh stares at your wrists like a kicked dog, like any day, all these months later, they’ll show up by magic.

No, Josh wouldn’t kill you. He wouldn’t even hurt you. But you know you wouldn’t get very far. The forest isn’t a mountain, but it’s close enough. Sometimes you sit on the porch and just look out at all the trees that border the property line, and try to think about how long it would take him to catch you. 

Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour? You always make yourself laugh, with that last one. 

He’d never let you run for that long. He’d be terrified you’d get lost. Get hurt. He’d drag you back to the cabin, arms a tight-but-never-bruising cage around your waist, and you could claw him to shreds like a hellcat all the while, and you know the only thing he’d say would be: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

You don’t want to hear him say it anymore because it isn’t true. For every apology he gives you, every tearful glance, there’s something beneath it - utter relief, delight, that he’s even able to tell you he’s sorry. That he can reach out and put a hesitant hand on your arm. That he can look over and see you stewing in your anger. 

If Josh let you leave he would have been alone. And Josh has been alone before. He can’t handle it. Not for one second longer. So all that’s left to say is sorry.

STU MACHER:

It’s terrifying how normal he acts.

Love had blinded you before. You’re not sure how, but now you can see Stu for exactly what he is. You don’t ever let yourself forget now. You’d made that mistake once, you can’t make it again. 

You’re not sure how no one else sees it. 

You watch him endlessly. It’s all you can do. Always on edge. Always waiting for him to snap. You watch him at parties while he effortlessly holds the attention of the room. You watch him during dates, while he talks to the waiter like they’re long lost pals. You watch him charm all your friends, all your family. You watch how everyone laughs off all the little creepy things he says. He slips up so often. But he smiles just as often, and his laugh is contagious. The whole world has written him off as an eternally playful man-child. Peter Pan, born again.

You flinch whenever he comes up behind you, draping himself onto your body in that playful way he always has. 

You’d never focused on how much stronger he was before. Now, it’s all you ever think about. You close your eyes, and feel the strength in his arms, and plaster a smile on your face, thinking: Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. 

He seems to have moved on so completely from it all. You wake up in the middle of the night in tears, remembering how much blood had covered your apartment on the worst night of your life. Stu marked the date on your calendar as your new anniversary. 

The heart he made had been comically large, eclipsing the tiny box of the day in red marker. You’d forced yourself to laugh at the enthusiasm and give him a kiss on the cheek. His eyes had been glued to your face. For just a beat too long. You watching him. Him watching you. He’s always watching you now. You feel the burn of his gaze on the back of your neck like a second sun.

You’d felt your smile shaking at the edges. Your eyes starting to sting. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You begged yourself as those sharp blue eyes scrutinized you. Waiting for you to slip. But you didn’t, so he grabbed you around the waist, dipped you low, and kissed you like you were a lead in a rom-com at the end of the movie. 

“We’re almost at our happily ever after, you know.” He’d slyly said at a party with all your friends and family, his arm thrown casually over your shoulder. 

He playfully tells your best friend they’re gonna have to help him pick out a ring soon. Everyone laughs and congratulates you. Tells you how lucky you are. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and make yourself laugh too, “Don’t I know it!”

JASON DEAN/JD: 

You have to say I love you a lot more. 

He doesn’t ask for the words. He never would, beyond saying them first and giving you an expectant look. Green eyes boring into yours, begging you to say it back. You could so easily interpret that expectant look as a demand. But you know it isn’t. It’s desperation. 

You say it more because there’s a pit in your stomach. And it twists every time you see how much worse the tangled weeds of that desperation for your love has gotten within JD. 

He’s your shadow, more often than not. Like if he takes his eyes off you for just a second too long you’ll disappear. It wouldn’t be an unfounded fear, with the life he’s lived. All that he’s lost. 

You don’t know why you said something so cruel to him. So thoughtless. JD pushes because he likes the passion you two share. Because he needs to know you care. Not because he wants to push you away. And now he looks at you like a kicked dog every time he thinks you’re not paying attention. But you’re always paying attention. 

You wish you could take the words back. Pluck them from the air and swallow them down, bury them somewhere deep inside you. 

I didn’t mean them. I swear I didn’t mean them. I was just stressed. You just push me so much. But you keep those words inside too. It’s bad enough you said them once. You don’t want to remind JD of them. Bring them up again. It’s clear from how he’s acting they’ve been bouncing around his head already. 

He’s been more quiet than usual. Trapped in his head. He doesn’t even look up when you walk into the room. The look on his face makes you ache. 

You curl up into his side, wrapping your arms around him, and squeeze as tight as you can. So he can feel you by his side, solid and permanent. “I love you, JD.” 

He turns to look at you. Those sharp eyes searching for any hint you don’t mean it. That these pretty words are the lie, and the wanting to leave him was the nasty truth. 

You meet his gaze head on. You would tell him how sorry you are, but you don’t want to think about how cruel you can be, when you get mad. “I love you.” You repeat, instead.

Finally he smiles at you, “Yeah, I know you do, darlin’.”

KEVIN KHATCHADOURIAN: 

You don’t have to pretend you’re happy. In fact, when you try, it makes Kevin very angry. 

He never tells you to stop. But whenever you try to fake a little enthusiasm. Put on a little smile you don’t mean… the look on his face is enough to make you feel sick. His expression hardly moves. It’s the look in his eyes. Like he wants to hurt you. Badly. 

So you stop pretending. 

He demands your presence. Your attention. He doesn’t want your disingenuous attempts to placate him. 

You sit in silence more often than not. 

You used to try and fill the air between you. The more he would stare at you, the more you would talk. He’d hardly blink. Just watching as you’d wind yourself up under the force of your own anxiety. He rarely told you to be quiet. You think Kevin must’ve liked watching you squirm. Watching you uhm and ah, only pausing for breaths, because otherwise the silence would be deafening. And all that would be left would be the suffocating weight of his gaze. 

You don’t bother talking now. What could you say? 

Now you stare back. He’d almost looked surprised, the first time. When you turned to look at him, while he looked at you. You didn’t stop until it was time for you to head home.

That’s how you spend all your time with each other now. You arrive at his home. You take off your shoes. You make your way to his bedroom. Sit on his bed. You take a deep breath, and then you stare at him, and he stares back. 

You hate him. A very big part of you hates him. An even bigger part of you is terrified of him. 

You carry on like this for months. Passing the time. Feeling isolated. Like a trapped mouse, or bird in a cage, even as you live every aspect of your life completely identical to the way you did before you knew what Kevin was capable of. There’s no chain around your wrist or ankle. No guillotine blade on your neck. But the threat is still there, and life feels paper thin now. Like some veil has been pulled back. It all feels meaningless. 

You hate him. But there’s no one you can talk to. No one to turn to. You don’t dare turn to anyone else. 

So one day, while you’re staring each other down you reach into the space between you on the bed with your hand, and lay it down palm up. Kevin’s eyes flicker down, sizing up your hand, sizing up you. After a long moment he puts his hand in yours. 

You go back to staring at each other.

NATHAN PRESCOTT: 

Nathan hates the way you flinch when he gets too close. 

He tries to be understanding. He doesn’t have a right to be hurt, after what he’s done. It hurts anyway. He just tries not to let it show. He’s sure that would make you angry. Him walking around like a little victim when he fucking kidnapped you. He makes himself angry. He makes himself sick. 

But at least he has you. You hate his guts, but you’re with him. 

Nathan tries to tell himself that’s all that matters. But he misses the way things used to be like he’d miss a leg that got cut off. Phantom aches all day long. Every time he looks at you, and finds you already looking at him, hatefully. You used to look at him like you’d never get tired of him. 

He still wants to know what finally made you tired of him. But he doesn’t have the right to ask. So he doesn’t ask. 

He reinforced the cabin so you can’t get out. If you try you’ll have to make so much noise there’s not a hope in hell he won’t hear. He can’t bear to tie you up, or chain you. You’re a fighter, and he’s not much of one, so he probably should. But he can’t. He’d tried and it made him sick. He’d actually thrown up over it. 

He keeps you lightly drugged instead.

He’d thrown up over that too. But he had to do something. 

He’s always careful about the dosage. Careful about every step of the process. He’ll never mess it up. Not ever. He loves you. He’d hurt you once, and he’ll never do it again. He doesn’t want to fight you. Doesn’t want you to fight each other. 

You love each other. It might take a while, but one day you’ll remember that. Until you do, you’ll both stay here, far away from anyone else. Nathan hopes you’ll remember soon.

SEBASTIAN VALMONT: 

He’s going to make you fall in love with him again. 

If he was stronger he’d let you go. Hell, he wouldn’t have paid someone to kidnap you in the first place. But Sebastian has always gotten everything he wanted. And he’s never wanted anything as much as he wants you. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you. Maybe, before you, he never loved anyone at all.

You split his chest open and carved out a space inside him where only you can fit. You’re the single occupant of his heart. Forever. You can’t expect him to just turn it off. Can’t expect him to forget you. He tried, and he failed. 

So now he’s going to try something else. He’s going to win you back. Obviously, this isn’t the best starting point. But there have been worse starting points for rekindling a romance. 

He hires only one chef and one maid for your new penthouse. He pays them very well to never ask any questions. And to never, ever help you escape. The money is too good to turn down. Life-changing, really. So they never help.

It’s just you and him. The way it was always meant to be. 

You do candlelit dinners every night. You wake up, every morning, to flowers outside your door. Sebastian fulfills your every desire. Hangs on to your every word. You can have anything you want. Do anything you want. You just can’t leave. Not yet. Not until you’re in love with him again. Then life can go back to normal. 

He’d laughed when you asked him if he was going to keep you in the penthouse with him forever. He laughed until he had to wipe a tear from his eye. Then he leaned forward and kissed you softly. “No, sweetheart, I’m not crazy. Just crazy about you.” 

There are a lot of locks on the front door. You’ve never even seen the keys for them. The windows don’t open. Even if they did… the penthouse is twenty stories up, you wouldn’t survive the fall. 

Sebastian opens your bedroom door, giving you a smile that’s both cocky and charming. Hiding something behind his back. Another gift. “Good morning, gorgeous.” 

You smile. Reflex, and don’t know if it’s because you’re too scared not to, or because looking at him makes you want to smile. Sebastian gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, the way he does when he’s happy. 

Nothing makes Sebastian more happy than getting what he wants.

A/N: we all know it took me forever to do this part two. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo