#and our dad is around 6 feet

[inbabylontheywept]

the house i grew up in was a little bit of a fixer upper. for the first 19 years, my dad just sort of slowly fixed it, but pretty early on in college, he came into a large amount of cash and decided to just do the whole thing at once. so he rented a different house for like, 2 months that was just a block down from us, and then got a bunch of contractors to fix original house ASAP. it was kind of crazy, but it compressed many years of work into like, three months.

the sitting in a new house for three months was actually pretty fun. and i shouldnt really complain at all (staying at home while in college is a sweet deal)

but.

but. my parents are fairly hard of hearing, and their bedroom in the old house was in the furthest possible annex from everyone else. wheras in the rental it was just in the middle of the house. so without going into details, i was extremely aware that my parents were having sex like, eight times a day. my dad had just retired and i guess they were celebrating, which is great i guess, having parents that really like each other is way better than the alternative, but also, it did make me envy their deafness. i kept headphones on for so long that year i got literal ear calluses.

at the same time, the house my buddy from the shoe incident grew up in flooded. turbo flooded. they burst like, two pipes at once and the damage was so severe they had to redo all the flooring and all the drywall. his family actually had homeowners insurance, which is either incredible or suspicious for a family that used the drained pool in their backyard to store rusty scrap metal. so insurance was handling the work, but in the meantime, they were crammed into a very small hotel room space. we did the math on it then, it averaged about 80 square feet a person.

so one day i got home, and i was chilling, and then six rolled around, and apparently six o'clock was sex o'clock because my parents decided to flex their cardio. i grabbed my headphones and prayed that god would do for me what he did for beethoven, but that failed to work, and then seven rolled around and my parents were still at it, which again, very impressive, but was pushing me to swap out judas for mozart in those prayers. there's a definitive point where you stop praying to be deaf and instead pray that god could take you to a nice field and pop you like a gore-balloon.

i was about five minutes away from that point when my friend called me and basically said i have been stuck in a 500 square foot space with 6 people and i didn't have many marbles to start but what few i had are gone. please. if we are friends, if we were ever friends, take me out of here just for a moment.

and i was still pretty mad at him, but i had pity on the poor guy. also helped that i was desperate to leave the house. so i drove the chickenshitmobile to the hotel and i picked him up, and then we did our normal hangout activity, which was go to food city and buy produce. his normal house was, on a good day, nasty, and his backyard was, as i stated before, mostly used to store mosquito larvae and rusty metal, so what we'd always done before was just walk to the grocery store a half block away and leer at vegetables.

so we did that and it was like old times again. they had some radishes that were expired, so i could buy like, literally an entire grocery bag of them for about $5. so i did. i really like radishes. he got a coconut because he liked fruit and beating things with hammers.

which probably would've been great except we didn't have a hammer, so instead we spent about 30 minutes stomping itike it owed us money. when it finally cracked we cheered like we just got the winning touchball at the superdome and then he ate some of the flesh, and i ate some of the radishes, and we admired the black, starless sky of the city before i took him back to his hotel room.

and then we got pulled over.

i forgot to turn my lights on because the street all around the food city was ludicrously well lit. so it went from being pretty bright, to pretty bright and flashy, then i pulled into a parking lot and a cop came to ask us for IDs which is where everything went to shit:

i’d forgotten my license at home. 

the cop was was actually kind of chill about it - he said he could get by with just an address. except i did not know my address. i hadn't memorized the new one yet. so i told the cop, my house is getting remodeled, i don't know my address right now. and then he went to my friend, and my friend said the exact same thing. house getting remodeled, staying somewhere else, no address, sowwwwwwy.

now the cop genuinely didn't know what to do. he went back to his car, and i was stressed that i was about to get into HUGE trouble so i started eating the radishes and my buddy started eating more of his coconut, and we actually managed to eat like a quarter of both before the cop came back. we ate enough produce that he could smell something weird in the air, and he asked what the smell was, and i said radishes, and my buddy said coconut, and the cop said which, and then we produced a large bag of droopy radishes and an absolutely brutalized coconut, and the cop was just like

so my buddy tried explaining how he was sharing a 500 square foot apartment with 6 people and wanted a fruit he could fight with power tools, and i tried explaining how i'd actually tried buying my parents like, board games and puzzles and stuff but nothing worked - the only thing my parents seemed to like doing right now was each other, and we both went on long enough and pathetically enough that the cop eventually went:

ok. stop.

and we stopped.

and he said do you know why i pulled you over?

and i said, because of my headlights, and my friend (who is hispanic) and the cop both looked at me like like i was the dumbest person in the entire world. and then the cop said no. that's why i'm allowed to pull you over. i checked your car because this neighborhood has a terrible sex trafficking problem, and i pull over every car i can to make sure no one is buying or selling sex. and you two are obviously doing neither. now i could give you, like, four tickets right now, but that would do nothing to make this area safer, so just turn your lights on, go home, drive safe, and try to be less stupid in the future.

and i said okay but i was thinking, you know, damn, this is just how i live man, i don't have a hidden third gear i can shift into. people can't just get smarter because it would be convenient. it's always convenient to be smart. i am literally trying my best.

but i didn't say anything because i was, slowly, learning how to filter what i said. instead i nodded and the cop left then i dropped my buddy off, and the last thing he said was said he owed me for responding to his SOS. I said he owed me for a lot of things, and he agreed that was true. then i drove home with my lights on, 5 under the speed limit, and arrived to a peaceful quiet home. I could’ve wept with relief but instead I went to bed.

the relief was short lived. i was woken up at 6 am by my parents. i swore, and then i prayed, and when i did not explode, i swore again. then i got up to make breakfast before my first class.

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…

Or 3…

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 6 (the finale)

Our time has come, this labor of love is *finished* (at least for now, i could probably be convinced to return to these loves soon)

warnings: none pairing: lando x singlemom!reader word count: 2k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername cold but happy carlossainz still can't believe you convinced Lando to spend Christmas in the cold. >>>yourusername oh it wasn't me! Stella said she wanted to learn how to ski, next thing I know he's booking a 2 week trip to Switzerland! >>>landonorris what my girl wants, my girl gets. 🤷🏻

Christmas, 2025 "Momma, are you sure Santa knows to bring my presents here this year and to not leave them at home?" The concern etched on Stella's face has you grinning into your wine glass.

"Yes, my darling." You assure her, patting her head as she snuggles deeper into Lando's side. "I wrote him a letter weeks ago, remember? You were with me when we mailed it! When you wake up tomorrow morning, all of your presents will be underneath that tree right over there."

This had been Stella's number one concern ever since Lando had announced that he'd booked a house at one of the most exclusive resorts in Gstaad, Switzerland for the Christmas holiday. You had spent a significant amount of time since discussing the fact that yes, Santa did know she wasn't going to be at home this year and yes, he would be able to deliver her presents here instead.

You had been in the mountain town for a few days now, spending nearly every waking moment on the slopes. It was beginning to feel routine, the way you all woke up around the same time and had breakfast together before getting your snow gear on and heading out onto the mountain. You had enrolled Stella in ski school that first day, despite Lando's protests that he could absolutely teach her to ski by himself, and she was thriving. It took a Herculean effort to get her off of her skis every evening but you were happy Stella was having fun.

Today you had managed to get Stella off the mountain early in order to go to dinner with Max and Pietra, who were also staying at the resort for Christmas. Max's initial reservations about Lando dating a single mom had long since evaporated into thin air, after he had seen how much both Stella and Lando adored each other this year. By the middle of the summer, you and Pietra had also become much closer as well, so you enjoyed traveling with Lando's friends who you now considered yours as well.

There was a crackling fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of the external wall of the large four bedroom chalet-style home and above the fireplace, Elf played on the tv. Stella was snuggled up between you and Lando, her head buried underneath Lando's arm, while her feet were stretched across your lap. Lando's arm is flung over the side of the couch, his fingers tangled in yours as his thumb brushes soft circles over the back of your hand. After a few days with a lot of activity, it felt nice to finally spend the evening relaxing in the quiet of your own space.

As the credits to Elf begin to roll, you tap Stella's feet, a signal that it's time to get moving. "Come on, baby girl, it's time for bed. Go brush your teeth and then I'll be in to read more of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and tuck you in, okay? The sooner you get to sleep, the faster Santa comes!"

Stella stretches out her legs and whines, sounding a lot like a cat after it wakes up from a long nap. "I want Dad to tuck me in tonight."

The entire world goes still as you suck in a breath at the name she just used for the very first time. On the other side of the couch, you see Lando freeze too, gaze snapping straight to you as his fingers tighten around yours. The request has your heart squeezing in your chest, a response to her question simply unable to form in your brain.

Stella senses the mood shift in the room and glances up first at you and then over at Lando. "What? Can't Daddy tuck me in just this once?"

Daddy.

Lando's stomach does a somersault up into his throat as he grips onto your hand for reassurance. Had she just...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise, he'd realize later once Stella was fast asleep and you were curled up in his arms in your shared bed. Ever since Silverstone back in July, Lando had practically moved in to your house in all but name. He'd decided to rent out his Monaco apartment to one of the new rookie drivers next season, choosing to remain full time in England where you were. The teachers and parents at school all knew him not as Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver but as the man that often picked up Stella from school whenever he was able to. Stella's teacher had even begun including him on her weekly email newsletters she always sent out on Friday afternoons. He was as ingratiated into this family as both you and Stella were.

But hearing her call him dad for the first time? The new title did something to Lando's heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from.

Emotion claws at his throat as he struggles to find the simple words to answer her request.

"Of course he can, honey." You whisper, seeing the shock and adoration sit heavy on Lando's face. Your own voice is with thick with emotion too. "Do you need help finding some jammies to change into?" You ask as Stella slowly gets up from her little nest between you and Lando.

"Dad can help me." She says with a shrug, as if the name is the most natural thing in the world.

Lando moves to get off the couch as Stella pads down the hallway, the brand new teddy bear she had conned him into buying at a shop today tucked into the crook of her elbow. He squeezes your shoulder as you look up at him, brilliant smile stretching over your face.

"You okay?" You ask as he rounds the couch, following behind Stella, dazed look still on his face.

Lando rubs at the back of his neck, stopping for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes shimmer with tears as he glances behind him and then back at you. "I think so...is...is that okay with you? Her calling me..." He pauses, trying to work his mouth around the next word, "dad like that?"

You're surprised to see concern flit across his face, like you could possibly be upset at what had just happened. "Lando." You murmur, rising from the couch to stand in front of him. You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are warm despite the fact that his kiss is hesitant at first. He quickly reads the emotion you pour into him though: confidence, love, desire. All of it positive and he knows without needing to hear anything vocalized that you're just happy about his new title as he is.

You tuck your head into his neck, nuzzling at the warm spot you love so much. "She loves you so much and so do I. You're the best thing that could have ever happened to us, Lando Norris."

Lando chuckles. "I think it's the opposite way around, my love. You two are the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

"DAAAAAAD" From the end of the hall, Stella's little voice calls out and you both can't help the laugh that pulls you apart. "I'm waaaaaaiting!!! Stop kissing Momma and come read to me!" She demands.

"The Princess awaits." Lando mutters before giving you one last peck on the cheek and turning away to walk down the hall towards Stella's room.

Over an hour later and you're 2 glasses of wine deeper than you were when Lando left you, still sitting alone on the couch. You're beginning to think he's fallen asleep putting Stella to bed only because you've done the same thing countless amounts of times over the years when you hear the door to her room whisper open.

"You were in there a long time." You murmur as Lando sits down on the couch before he pulls you into his lap. You set the wine glass down on the side table next to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Stella and I had some things to discuss." He says lightly.

Lando's body relaxes as he tucks his head into your neck. If there's one thing you adore about your boyfriend you'll adore until the ends of time it's how affectionate he is. He's always touching you when you're near and he never gives half-hearted hugs, they're something he pours his full body into. The same goes with cuddling, it's never halfway with Lando when it comes to physical affection and you simply cannot ever get enough.

"Oh?" You laugh, grinning at him. "And what are you two plotting now?"

Lando shifts, glancing away as if he's nervous to answer your question. "Stella calling me dad just had me thinking about things..."

You lift an eyebrow. "Things?"

"Yeah" Lando nods. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer into his chest. "I just got to thinking and maybe it’s time we make things official."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion has you pulling away from him so you can look at him. There's a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you have to resist the urge to kiss him, despite the fact that you are fully lost as to what he's talking about. "You’ve been calling me your girlfriend for months now?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean official official. With this." Lando lifts his hips off the couch and pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket. For the second time that night, your heart stalls in your chest, world tilting a bit on its axis.

"Lan." You whisper before sucking in a breath as he opens the top of the ring box. Nestled in the black velvet sits the most gorgeous ring you'd ever laid eyes on. It's simple and perfect and something you would have picked out on your own had you been let loose in a jewelry store.

"Marry me, baby." Lando's voice is thick, anxiety and nerves evident in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. "I never want to go back to a world where you and Stella aren't in my life. Stella sees me as her dad, I hope you can see me as your husband and father of the rest of our babies one day. I love you so much l. Spend the rest of your life with me?

It's a wonder the sound of your heart clattering against your ribcage doesn't wake Stella up it's so loud. Blood rushes past your ears so loudly, the sounds of the house are muffled for a moment and all you can do is stare at Lando. He doesn't move, a look of anxiety and love and hundreds of other emotions sitting so plainly on his face you can barely form a thought.

"Of course. Oh my god. Of course." Your right hand finds his cheek and you frame his face with your hand as he takes your left hand before slipping the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.

"Yeah?" A wash of relief crashes over Lando because for a moment he thought you were about to reject him.

When he had finished reading a chapter of Stella's book to her, he had as casually as he could brought up the idea of them being a family for real next year. Stella had been a bit confused, asking him if the weren't already a real family but Lando had quickly explained he meant he wanted to marry you but only if Stella thought that was a good idea because she was part of their family too and what she thought mattered to him just as much as what you thought.

You nod, laughing through your tears before crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Yeah." You mutter against his mouth.

"I was going to do this tomorrow morning" Lando pulls away, glancing down at your hand that's still captured between his. "But it just felt right tonight. Stella was so excited, she started asking what kind of dress she’d get to wear at the wedding."

"Oh Lando." You coo before you allow him to lay you down on the couch, kissing you as he goes.

yourusername (private) posted

123 likes liked by BFFSarah, CarlosSainz, yourdad, and others yourusername mrs. norris has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? 😘 BFFSarah OH. MY. GOD. I'm sobbing. Bestie. I love you. I love him. I love Stella. I'm so happy for you!!! >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ thank you babes >>>BFFSarah sorry, back again to tell you holy SHIT that ring!! @/landonorris you did good!! >>>landonorris why thank you! ☺️

landonorris posted

1,098,874 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, zakbrownceo, and others landonorris santa can't compete with my present this year zakbrownceo congratulations to both of you!!! we'll have to throw a little party when you're back in the new year! >>>yourusername thanks zak!! you are too good to us! user009 the gold digger got what she wanted...how long til she's knocked up with baby number 2? gotta get that bag somehow... >>>user221 seriously. bro fell for the oldest trick in the book. fucking gross. >>>user223 hey so this is a fucking WILD thing to say about someone you don't even know so publicly. JESUS. user928 OH MY GOD THEY'RE ENGAGED user230 we're going to get dad lando content FOREVER >>>user929 the way i live for stella/lando content and now we get even MORE??? Yes please!!!

@shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 8)

You stared at the Batfam, who looked ready to kill everybody in front of them. Then you looked at your adoptive family of villains, who looked ready to kill anyone with a superhero name. "Stay out of this, Batsy," Joker warned. "We're raising Y/N now."

"You were about to torture them, you sick monster!" Jason said. "We heard the screaming from outside."

"Oh, that? Y/N is ticklish," Bane said, casually.

"Do you think we're stupid or something? You're obviously torturing them!" Nightwing shoved his escrima sticks dangerously close to Bane's nose. "Come on, Y/N. You're going back to your home in Wayne Manor. You'll never see these degenerates ever again for the rest of your life."

"What?" That got your attention. "I'm leaving?"

"Yes, you are," Batman said. "Come with us, Y/N. Your family awaits." He took your wrist, and you yanked it back.

"My family is right here," you insisted. "My blood relatives didn't know I was even missing until my new dad here put out that video. And anyway, they're not asking you for help because they want me back. They're asking you for help because they're worried about what people will say about them at the fancy galas they go to while they leave me at home with Alfred. Heck, Titus got to go and I stayed home."

"Makes me wonder why I ever wanted to become one of them. Utter filth," Penguin scoffed.

"Your family is worried about you and wants you home," Red Hood said.

"Of course they do! They want me home where I can't be seen and can't embarrass them. I want family members that will be proud of me and refuse to hide me! I don't want to be told that I'm a disgrace and don't deserve the family name."

"That won't happen," Orphan said, a little hurriedly. "We've made sure of it."

"You have no assurance of that! I'm staying here with my new dad and my aunties and my uncles!"

"You tell 'em, kiddo," Two-Face growled.

"They committed a crime, Y/N. They're going to be arrested," Robin said.

"As the victim, I'm willing to drop all the charges," you said.

"My little baby bird," Penguin sniffled, wiping tears of pride away. "My darling dove. Oh, Daddy's so proud of you."

"Shut up! They're not your child!" Batman growled.

Penguin growled at the dark knight. "They're as mine as I want them to be! Tell Bruce Wayne and his gaggle of children that he'll have to live with it."

And Batman punched Penguin in the face.

"No! Dad!" You rushed towards the fight and pulled your adoptive father away from Batman. "Papa, are you all right?"

"That is not your papa, Y/N!" Red Robin yelled.

"You leave our Y/N alone, you little Bat-creeps!" Catwoman yelled, kicking Red Robin into a wall.

"They're coming home, Catwoman!" Spoiler demanded.

"But I don't want to! I want to stay here! Why won't you listen to me?" you sobbed. Around you, your aunts and uncles fought the Batfam for you and were beaten into submission. You felt your feet leave the ground as Red Robin scooped you up and took you away.

"Good job, Red Robin," Batman said. "Let's take them home. Their family awaits."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 <- You are here

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool,, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush

[lewisvinga]

his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter

summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.

word count; 630

warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho🤭🤭🤭

masterlist !

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“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.

“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.

Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.

He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.

Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.

“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“

“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.

“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.

“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”

Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.

Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.

Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”

He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.

Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.

She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.

Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.

[rosenclaws]

Okay—don’t know if this fulfills the type of prompt you’re looking for but: Marie asking Logan to play Barbie’s with her. He somehow ends up wearing a princess crown

Babysitting || Worst!Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used and the reader is referred as mom

a/n: Man I just love writing Wolverine being a dad omfggg anyways I hope you enjoy!!!

"You promise you don't mind?"

You're rushing around your apartment trying to get ready for work. Just your luck you got called in for an emergency and your babysitter wasn't able to come on such short notice.

In the midst of your panic Logan knocked on your door like a knight in shining armor. Though this knight was caring an empty tupperware that you had given him leftovers in.

Logan had heard you talking to yourself in a panic. He tries not to eavesdrop but you were being louder than usual so being the good...uh boyfriend? Friend, Neighbor? You haven't really figured that part out yet.

Anyways being the good person that he is he came down to see what was wrong.

"I'm sure, she's a nice kid how hard can it be?" He says with a shrug and you resist the urge to scoff. He was doing you a huge favor afterall.

"Pick up is at 3pm, I'll be home by 6 and I'll grab dinner." You grab your bag and hurry out the door.

Logan glances at the clock. It's almost 3 so he better get a move on. Maries school was a short walk from the apartment. He can't but notice just how much he stands out among the other parents here for pick up and drop off.

He winces when he hears the shrieking laughter coming from the playground. Parents come and go, collecting their kids and listening to them talk about their day. He glances to the side and sees a little boy staring at him with wide eyes. In his hands was a wolverine figurine. Logan just smirks, putting his finger up to his lips telling the kid to keep quiet.

"Kitty!" Logan looks up to see Marie running towards him.

"Hey kid, your mom had to go to work so it's just me and you for a couple hours." He lifts Marie up into his arms.

Taking her backpack and slinging it onto his shoulder. The damn thing fit just a little too tight around his biceps and shoulders. As he walks home she rambles on about her day. Logan listens as she plays with the collar of his shirt.

"And then we wrote about our favorite animal and we got to draw it and Ms. K put all of our drawings on the wall."

"Yeah? What's your favorite animal?" Logan asks as he digs around for the key you gave him.

"Kitty cats!" Logan flinches as she practically shouts in his ear.

"Oh yeah? I couldn't tell." As he opens the door he sets her down, placing her stuff near the door as she goes running to her room.

Logan sits on the couch and stretches out, pick up is done so now he just has to make sure Marie doesn't die or get a tattoo or do anything stupid. As soon as he reaches for the remote he hears the little pitter of her feet.

She pokes her head around the wall and looks at Logan with those puppy dog eyes. He groans, knowing she was about to ask him something he won't be able to say no to.

"Will you play Barbie's with me? Mommy promised me she'd play today." She asks. Pulling two dolls from behind her back. Logan just sighs, putting his hands in his head.

"Wouldn't you rather color or something? Or we can watch that show with that annoying blue dog." He tries to bargain but Marie stands firm. She wants Barbie's. It's that or nothing. So Logan just nods his head.

"Okay fine. But only for an hour. Max."

An hour max his ass because Marie wouldn't let him leave. Every time he tried to end Barbie dress up her little eyes would fill with tears and Logan would quickly promise to keep playing. Just the threat of her tears was enough to make him fold. So here he is. At the will of a 6 year old.

"Logan? Marie? I'm home!" He hears your voice and your footsteps get closer.

"Mommy!" Marie yells.

"I brought pizza it's on the counter..." Your voice trails off as you appear in the doorway.

Marie runs past you straight to the bathroom to wash her hands before dinner. Logan is sitting on the ground, having broken the small wooden chair Marie insisted he sit on at firs. A plastic princess crown sits on his head and he has pink glitter nail polish messily painted onto his nails.

"Barbie tea party?" You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

"Yeah. You've raise a very manipulative child you know that?" Logan says as he stands up.

"All you have to do is say no Logan." You reach over and fix the crown so that it rested evenly on his head. His hair tuffs sticking out of the crown just above the fake jewels.

"Well she's very convincing." He hums.

Your hands fall back to your sides but you don't move from the doorway. Something about seeing him so willing to spend time with Marie, to entertain her silly games and even let her paint his nails.

It just means a lot. Logan...he didn't sign up for all of this but he's willingly brought himself into your life and you don't want him to leave. But is he here for Marie? Or would he stick around for you too?

"How do I look?" He asks, snapping you out of your question sprial.

"Huh?" You ask. He shrugs and crosses his arms, his biceps bulging out of his flannel shirt.

"You're staring at me sweetheart, thought I'd ask if you like what you see." He purrs.

Your eyes widen as he slowly backs you against the wall. Even with the pink nails and the plastic crown Logan was all consuming. There's just something so attractive about his paternal instincts.

"You look good." You squeak out.

"Just good?" He asks and you swear your brain starts to short circuit.

"Mommy! I'm hungry." Marie's voice makes Logan jump back, his cockiness fades away as he reaches up and takes the crown off.

"I'll be right there baby. Just go sit down." You say with a smile. You glance back at Logan for a moment, a beat of silence as you stare into each others eyes. Your heart is still racing. He gently places the crown on Marie's bed and walks past you to the kitchen.

"Fuck." You whisper. What was that?

You pretend like you weren't pressed up against the wall by Logan just moments ago and serve everyone a slice of pizza. You listen as Marie tells you about her day and playing with Logan. It's so utterly domestic. But soon Marie's bedtime comes around and it's time to say goodbye.

"Kitty can you pick me up from school tomorrow?" Marie asks sleepily.

"Oh baby Logan's very busy-"

"I don't mind" Logan cuts in.

"Gives me something to do during the day. As long as you don't mind." he adds on the last part quickly. Before you can answer Marie does it for you.

"Yes!" She squeals.

"Marie wait!" You call but she's already gone to her room.

"Are you sure Logan? I know it's a lot. That we can be a lot."

"Sweetheart, I like spending time with her, with you." Logan says softly.

He's really grown to care about Marie and you. A lot. More than he's willing to admit out loud right now. The two of you aren't a lot to Logan. In fact you're just what he needs. This normalcy and kindness. Being around the two of you makes him feel like he really can be more than the man he used to be.

"Okay, thank you Logan. You don't know how much everything you've done means to us." You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"See you tomorrow sweetheart." He throws you a wink as he shuts the door.

He stays for just a moment. He hears your footsteps get farther away and he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. As he heads back to his apartment he starts to feel dread creeping up his throat. Who is he kidding? Can the Wolverine really go and play babysitter? He's not...he's not good for you or for Marie. But he cares about the two of you and he's too selfish to let you go now.

"How was your date with the hot mom downstairs?" Wade asks as Logan steps into the apartment.

"It wasn't a date I was just helping out." Logan mumbles as he opens the fridge and searches for a beer, only finding a root beer instead.

"Hey we listen and we don't judge. Everyone has a type. Yours just happens to be MILFS."

Logan shoots daggers at Wade as he pops off the top of the bottle.

"Shut the fuck up." A surge of jealousy hitting him like a truck at the idea of Wade even thinking of you like that. Wade just smirks, loving just how easy it is to push his buttons.

"Man you're just racking up those father figure roles aren't you Hugh." Wade sighs. Logan choose to ignore whatever nonsense Wade was spitting from his mouth and head right to bed.

Closing his eyes he just wonders how far he'll let himself sink into your lives. A small part of him hopes forever.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 17 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16

Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: mentions of bleeding/blood

Being pregnant is great, but it also sucks.

Overall, you really shouldn’t complain — you’ve had it a lot easier than others. Your morning sickness went away after the first trimester, and the only real symptoms you’ve experienced in your second trimester are fatigue and swollen feet.

You only recently started showing, which means you have to start telling people… including Chris.

The three of you came to an agreement: to Christopher, just you and Eddie are dating each other, and Buck just happens to live with you. He’ll figure out the truth when he's older, but for now, he’s just too young. It’s too much, too confusing, especially bringing a younger sibling into it.

You’re sitting next to Eddie on the couch. He’s rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. On an upstroke, you set one of your hands over his. Eddie meets your eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” you say quietly, lacing your fingers together.

He smiles softly and squeezes your hand.

The front door opens. Christopher steps in first, followed quickly by Buck, who picked him up.

“Hey. buddy,” Eddie greets lightly. “Can we talk to about something?”

“Am I in trouble?” he asks as he enters the living room.

You chuckle. “Nothing like that.”

Buck smiles and waves a little before dismissing himself into the kitchen.

“We have some news for you, that’s all,” Eddie explains.

You scoot over so Christopher can sit between the two of you.

“If the news is that you’re dating, I already know,” Chris says factually as he sits.

You laugh a little, mostly in surprise. “Yeah, we aren’t that subtle, are we?”

Chris shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Well, that was some of the news,” Eddie admits, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders.

Chris looks over at you. “Is the other news that you’re pregnant?”

You look at Eddie, whose eyes are probably wider than yours.

“Wow, we really aren’t subtle,” you laugh out.

“How did you figure that out, bud?” Eddie asks, rubbing up and down Christopher’s arm.

“I heard you throwing up in the bathroom a lot,” Chris explains. “And sometimes, I see Dad set his hand on your stomach.”

“Definitely not subtle,” Eddie mumbles in agreement.

You smile, leaning forward to look at Chris. “How do you feel about all of this?���

Christopher shrugs. “Fine. It’s nice having you around. And I think I can be a good big brother.”

Your smile widens, and your eyes water a little. You wave your hands in an attempt to dry them. “Damn hormones.”

The farther along you become, the less you work. When you first told Bobby, he said you could take off completely. You were grateful for his support, but that’s something you weren’t willing to do. Even now, at 6 months pregnant, you work at least a shift a week, much to your boyfriends’ dismay.

“You could get hurt,” Buck argues as you move around the kitchen, packing your lunch bag.

“So can you!” You argue. “You don’t see me trying to talk you out of your job.”

“Well, it’s not just you I’m worried about,” Buck continues. “I’m worried about our daughter, too.”

Your heart swells a little. You hate that you keep having the same argument with him, but you understand that he’s coming from a place of genuine concern.

“We still don’t know that it’s a girl, Buck,” you remind.

“It’s definitely a girl, and don’t try to change the subject.”

Eddie enters the kitchen, catching the last part of what Buck said. “Are we arguing about work again?”

You sigh. “What else?”

Eddie momentarily cradles Buck’s face to kiss his cheek. “It’s never gonna work.”

“At least I try ,” Buck argues. Still, he turns his head to give Eddie a proper kiss on the lips.

“Hey, don’t bring him into your crusade,” you argue, zipping up your lunch bag. “Like he said: it’s never gonna work.”

Eddie approaches you and kisses you. “Good morning.”

You smile. “Good morning.”

He crouches, setting a hand on your belly. “Good morning.”

After hitting 22 weeks, you really popped. Practically none of your old pants fit, and even some of your shirts are having a tough time fully covering your belly. You hate the attention it’s gotten you from the general public, but love how affectionate the boys have been.

You get why Buck is so worried. And frankly, you’re a little tired. Being a student full-time while pregnant is hard enough, and adding work to it only makes things more exhausting. You’ve never taken the easy way out of anything, though, so maybe it’s finally your turn.

“I’ll talk to Bobby today about taking off early,” you say quietly. You point a finger at Buck. “Before you get any ideas, it has nothing to do with your bitching. It’s because I have a clinical course coming up and honestly, I could do with a little off my plate.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Buck says. “What do you think, Eddie?”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie agrees, kissing your forehead.

Now that you aren’t working, you have a lot of spare time. After sleeping in longer than you’d care to admit, you decide to catch up on some random chores around the house. By 7 PM, you managed to sweep and mop all the floors and do three separate loads of laundry.

You’re folding some of the boys’ work clothes when you feel a sharp pain in your stomach. It catches you so off guard that you gasp, leaning over and clutching your side. You manage to take a few deep breaths, and the pain eventually turns to a dull ache.

Weird. You’ve had intermittent abdominal pain throughout your entire pregnancy, which your OB assured you was normal. This, though… this is new. And you don’t like it.

You make a beeline for the bathroom. When you pull down your pants, you see a bright red splotch in your panties. Blood.

Eddie is only halfway through a 24-hour shift, but Buck should be home any minute. You dial the latter’s number.

“Hey, perfect timing,” Buck answers. You can tell from the background noise that he’s driving. “I was thinking Chinese for dinner.”

At the sound of his voice, you let out a sob.

The tone in his voice changes. “What’s wrong?”

You keep crying. You have trouble trying to catch your breath. You feel a little silly, but you can’t help it — you’re terrified.

“Baby, you have to to talk to me,” Buck says calmly. “What’s going on?”

“I… uh, I think something’s wrong,” you manage to choke out. “With the baby.”

You can hear the engine accelerate. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“I don’t think so. I… I was doing laundry, and I had some pain, and I’m… I’m bleeding,” you explain. “Not a lot, but… not a little, I guess.”

“Are there clots?”

“No, it’s just bright red,” you say, fresh tears staining your cheeks. “It looks like spotting, but it hasn’t hurt like this before.”

“Are you still in pain?”

Funny, you hadn’t thought about that. Between your pounding heart and uneven breaths, you’re pretty sure the adrenaline coursing through your veins is masking any pain.

“No, not really. But I’m kind of freaking the fuck out, so…”

“I’m three minutes out. Just hang on, okay?”

A whooshing sound greets your ears.

“That’s the heartbeat,” Dr. Chantell, an ER physician, says. “Your baby looks great.”

You let out a sob of relief, squeezing Buck’s hand. He kisses your forehead and brushes back some of your hair.

The curtain pulls back, and you see Eddie. His eyes frantically scan the room, landing on you. “What the hell happened?”

“Excuse me, sir, this is —”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt Dr. Chantell.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Eddie explains for you as he rushes to your side. “What happened?”

Dr. Chantell looks at Eddie, then Buck, then you. You can already tell you’ll be the talk of the ER for the night.

“I had some pain and spotting,” you explain as Eddie kisses your forehead. “She’s okay, though.”

“‘She’, huh?” Eddie chuckles a little. “Did he finally convince you?”

“It’s a girl,” Buck repeats for probably the hundredth time. “I just know.”

Eddie sets a hand on his shoulder, which Buck leans into.

Dr. Chantell presses the ultrasound probe down, and when she pulls it back up, it makes you hiss in pain.

“Found the culprit,” she says, pointing to a random black blob on the screen. “Appendicitis.”

Most of the pain was on the right side, but it wasn’t limited to the upper quadrant, so appendicitis didn’t even cross your mind. You probably should have guessed that, though.

“I need surgery,” you say.

“Is that safe for the baby?” Buck asks.

“It’s low risk,” Dr. Chantell answers. “Appendectomies are actually the most common non-obstetric surgical procedure performed during pregnancy. And it isn’t ruptured, so the surgeon will likely take a laparoscopic approach.”

You nod, slowly taking everything in. Okay. you need surgery. But it will be minor. You’ll be in the hospital for three days tops, and recovery should only be a few weeks. You’re okay. The baby’s okay.

Everything is okay.

You slowly blink awake. You look around, taking in your surroundings.

Instead of the ER, you’re in a regular hospital room. You vaguely remember recovering in the PACU, but the excitement of the evening turned into exhaustion and sleep greeted you easily once you brought upstairs.

The clock on the wall says it’s five in the morning. You can only barely make it out in the dim lighting of a lamp in the corner.

You feel something shift on your stomach. You look down to see Buck’s hand sprawled over your bump. His head is resting on the edge of the bed as he snores softly. Eddie, who’s asleep in a recliner, has one arm resting on the bed next to your leg while the other sits on Buck’s back.

You clear your throat, and it’s enough to stir Eddie. His head turns and he frowns a little before opening his eyes. When his eyes meet yours, his expression softens.

“Hey,” you croak out, your voice still hoarse from surgery.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers as he sits up. “How you feeling?”

You shrug. “I’m okay, I think.”

Eddie stands to get you a glass of water. The motion is enough to wake up Buck.

“Hey,” you say, setting your hand over his.

“Hey back,” Buck greets as he sits up. He turns his hand so your fingers can lace together.

To your right, Eddie offers you a small glass of water. “Take it slow, okay?”

You nod a little as you accept it and take a small, slow sip out of the straw.

“Are you in any pain?” Buck asks.

You shake your head, setting the cup down on the bedside table. “Not really, just a little sore. Nothing like what I felt earlier.”

“The surgeon said you and the baby both did great,” Eddie says.

You smile softly, running a hand up and down your bump. “We need to think of some names for this kid. They’ll be out before we know it.”

“Well, we don’t need to worry about boy names,” Buck says confidently.

You and Eddie share a look, then laugh a little.

“I always liked Carter as a boy name,” Eddie says. “Plus, it goes well with Christopher.”

“Christopher and Carter,” you say, nodding. “Yeah, I like it. What about a middle name? Buck?”

“I’m not contributing to this,” Buck replies, laying his head back down. “The only names I know are girl names.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, I like Eli. Carter Eli.”

Eddie smiles. “I like it too.”

You return the smile, then sigh dramatically. “Okay, Buck: what do you have for girl names?”

“I have a middle name,” Buck says, perking up. “Rae.”

You look at Eddie, eyebrows raised. “Got a first name?”

“Katie?”

You hum. “Not bad. It’s more of a nickname, though.”

Buck rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “Kathleen?”

“That sounds like someone’s grandma,” you chastise.

“What about Katherine?” Eddie suggests.

“Not bad,” you comment. You pause. “Kadence.”

“Kadence Rae,” Buck says, then smiles. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

It’s been a month since your surgery, and for the most part, life is back to normal. You’re now 34 weeks pregnant, and because the appendectomy required at least 4 weeks of recovery, you actually feel pretty okay. You’ve been off of work for almost two full months, which feels weird, but it’s a nice break. Besides, you’re officially entering your preceptorship, which means you’re close to the end of nursing school.

You were lucky enough to land your preceptorship in the Emergency Department. You still aren’t entirely sure what you want to do when you graduate, so you’re hoping the first-hand experience helps you decide. Even if you choose not to pursue inpatient care in favor of pre-hospital, you know you’ll learn a lot. Sure, it’s 80 hours of free labor, but… you gotta do what you gotta do.

The boys are excited for your next educational endeavor, but they’re far more excited by how quickly your due date is approaching. Over your weeks of bedrest, they finished building the crib and painting the nursery. Really, they’re nesting more than you are. It’s cute.

“You know, we have to figure out this last name thing,” you say over breakfast.

Eddie and Buck look at you, then each other.

It’s early enough in the morning that the three of you are up, but Christopher is still asleep. As much as you love spending time with Chris, you definitely savor the moments the three of you get to be a couple — triad? — in the house.

The last name debate started when you got home from the hospital, and it has yet to conclude. The boys keep brushing each other off, saying that it doesn’t matter and that it’ll figure itself out. It won’t, though. And sooner rather than later, you’ll be filling out a birth certificate, and you can’t leave the ‘last name’ line blank.

“Why can’t it just be yours?” Eddie asks. “I mean, you’re growing her.”

Buck finally wore Eddie down and convinced him that it’s a girl.

“That’s why it shouldn’t be mine,” you argue. “I’m already connected to the baby — you two dummies need to be connected, too.”

“I feel the love,” Buck remarks before taking a bite of cereal.

At this point, the three of you have gone over every possible option. Your last name. Buckley. Diaz. Buckley-Diaz. Diaz-Buckley. Some weird, hyphenated monstrosity that combines all three of your names. Then that gets into the marriage discussion, which also never ends.

“There’s already a Diaz kid running around,” Eddie remarks. “If you don’t want it to be your last name, then it should be Buckley.”

“There’s a Buckley kid: Jee,” Buck points out. “I mean, she’s technically a Buckley Han, but it counts. Besides, I’m pretty sure the Buckley name is cursed. It should end with me.”

“I’m sure Christopher would love having a sibling with the same last name,” you point out.

“See! It should be Diaz,” Buck agrees.

Eddie sighs. “Okay, we’ll go with Diaz. But your name is going on the paternity paperwork.”

Buck frowns. “Paternity paperwork?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of this,” you say. “When the baby is born… out of wedlock, or whatever, the father signs a paper.”

“It’s called a Voluntary Acknowledgment of Paternity,” Eddie confirms. “It’s a legal document declaring you the baby’s father.”

You and Buck start to protest, but Eddie raises a hand to quiet you both.

“It’s irresponsible for Katie to only have one legal parent. I can be her alternate guardian, like you guys are to Christopher. If she’s taking my name, that’s proof enough that she’s mine.” Eddie looks at you. “You said you want all three of us to be connected to her, right? I think this is the best way to do that.”

You bite your lip, taking it all in. “Buck? What do you think?”

Buck frowns a little, clearing his throat. He turns to Eddie. “You’d do that for me?”

Eddie sets a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Of course I would, Buck. We’ll both be her dads, but… you deserve to be a father.”

Buck practically lunges at Eddie in a kiss, cradling the other man’s neck. Eddie makes a little sound of surprise before kissing him back.

You smile. That settles it, then.

You’re two weeks into your preceptorship, and it’s crazy how much you’ve already learned. The textbooks and lectures taught you some, sure, but nothing can replace the real thing, and this is as close to the real thing as you’re going to get without having a license.

It’s so interesting, being on the other side of emergency medicine. When EMS comes in with a PNB patient, you’re no longer the one dropping them off and leaving — you’re the one picking up where they leave off. You’ve seen resuscitations last over an hour, the ER doctor not calling it until everyone agrees that there’s nothing more to be done.

And that’s just the life and death stuff. You’ve seen countless traumas, several intubations, and two live births, all within your six 12-hour shifts.

“God, honey, I just look at you and feel tired,” Janice, your preceptor, says.

You smile a little.

Janice is a very seasoned ER nurse with almost two decades of experience. Normally, she doesn’t take student nurses, but when she heard you had a background in EMS, she made an exception. You’re glad she did — she’s a good teacher. She can be intense, but for good reason.

“Yeah, I’ve looked heavily pregnant for awhile, but I’m finally starting to feel it,” you agree.

All things considered, you’ve had a good pregnancy: you’re just ready for it to be over. You’re tired of never getting a good night’s sleep, your feet always hurting, and none of your clothes fitting. You want your body back. You also want to meet your daughter.

Okay, Buck may have finally worn you down, too. You still have some reservations, but you’re starting to think he might be right about the baby being a girl.

Your stomach tightens, and you wince a little. You rub small circles over your bump, taking in a few deep breaths. The Braxton Hicks contractions have been kicking your ass, especially today.

“You’ve only got four weeks left, right?” Janice asks.

You nod. “Yeah, and I’m counting the days.”

“Honey, it’ll be here before you know it.”

You’re working from 1100 to 2300, and by 2030, things have started to slow down. You and Janice are catching up on some charting while you wait for orders on your patients.

“ Highland General, do you copy?” A voice over the dispatch radio asks.

Janice picks up the radio. “This is Highland General, over.”

“Highland, we’ve got a 30-year-old PNB heading your way, ETA 2 minutes.”

“That’s a great copy, dispatch, Highland clear,” Janice says before turning to you. “Ready?”

You and Janice are waiting in the ambulance bay for less than a minute when the rig pulls up. It’s the 118 RA, and Eddie hops out of the driver’s seat. He walks up to you.

“Hey you,” you say with a smile, tilting your head. “Where’s Buck? Another call?”

“30-year-old male struck by lightning, full cardiac arrest. He was down three minutes before we started compressions,” Bobby explains as they roll the gurney out.

Your gaze falls onto the gurney, or more accurately, the person lying on the gurney. You think you can feel your heart stop.

“...Buck?!”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:04 am]

(cw: previously pregnant!reader, “mommy,” “daddy,” a baby)

Sleep was never something that you thought you valued enough before having a kid. You used to be able to get through the day with a few hours of sleep after a night out or a night of poor sleep, but after having a baby- you craved sleep. Nights of once comfortable sleep became hard to come by when pregnant and even harder to come by with a baby who woke up every 4 hours crying. Waking up and immediately having to care for someone else, was startling and something you had quickly gotten used to.

The familiar crackle of the baby monitor would go off and either you or dad!Jaemin would be up so quickly, it wouldn't even register that you were even awake until you were changing a stinky diaper.

Which is why it was so weird- almost unnerving to wake up with the sun out and the green numbers of the alarm clock blinking a time at you that was far later than what you were used to seeing.

You sat up in a fright, looking at Jaemin's side of the bed only to find it empty and the sheets cold. Your heart was pounding, something must have gone wrong. You were on the verge of jumping from the bed and sprinting to the nursery when you heard the familiar crackle of the baby monitor.

"Okay let me see those chunky legs baby girl. Stretch up and around and squeeze," you head Jaemin drawl out in his baby voice.

Your daughter cooed, and a familiar pass of gas from her tiny body was heard. It was quiet and then "woahhhhh, little missy," before they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"Do you feel better now? I bet you woke mommy up with that big one. Hey, missy, I hope you didn't dirty your diaper, daddy just changed you!" Jaemin laughed before the baby giggles got louder than before. Must have been the tickle monster.

You slid out of bed and made your way to the nursery to find your daughter laughing and kicking her arms and feet in joy on the changing table while Jaemin tickled her.

"Oh my goodness! Is the tickle monster attacking you, baby girl?" You asked in an animated voice.

She wiggled even more furiously as she heard your voice, happy gasps of air. Jaemin smiled, “are we so excited to see mommy? Are we so excited?!”

He lifted her up into a sitting position and she immediately reached for you. “Oh my baby, I missed you. I slept in too late,” you told her before turning to Jaemin, “I’m sorry I slept in so late.”

He waves you off, wiping away at the dried drool at the corner of your mouth, “the baby slept in too. I think the sleep training is finally kicking in. Wasn’t it great to get longer than 6 straight hours of sleep?”

You pressed your lips to your daughter’s chubby cheek, “the best, but I’m not so sure hearing this one let out the biggest fart ever first thing in the morning was an equal trade off.”

Jaemin laughs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “she had a blow out when I got her. I win.”

You roll your eyes, “I wasn’t aware our little bundle of joy was a subject for competition.”

Said bundle of joy sends Jaemin a very wet raspberry and whines to let you know she’s hungry. He scoffs playfully, “fine, mommy wins.”

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 6

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

Ariel couldn’t remember a time when she had been that content.

The bed was warm and comfortable and the duvet was fluffy and Max was holding her… Max's arms were wrapped securely around her, his body pressed against hers in a warm and comfortable tangle of limbs.

He nuzzled his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, his breath warm against her neck. He was still sleeping, but even in his sleep he was holding her. 

Ariel could spend hours like that.

Sadly her bladder had other plans.

Reluctantly, Ariel carefully extracted herself from Max, trying not to wake him. She slid out of bed slowly, trying not to wake him. 

The hardwood floor was cold under her bare feet as she padded quietly into the bathroom, her mind still slightly clouded with a bit of grogginess. By the time she was finished in the bathroom, she was wide awake.

IT was still early enough in the morning that there was no need for her to wake up Max, so she took her phone and quietly left the bedroom in favour of the living room and hopefully something to drink.That...and a call to her sister.

She curled up on the sofa, her phone in hand, dialing her sisters number. 

Emma picked up, immediately. "You totally left me hanging there!" Emma greeted her complaining. "I am so happy for you, Ari!"

Ariel couldn't help but giggle softly at her sister's teasing tone. "I know, I'm sorry," Ariel replied, a hint of sheepishness in her voice. "But I promise I'll tell you all the details later, I just..." She trailed off, her thoughts still swirling in her head.

"Is later now?!" Emma demanded. "You can't just tell me that you put the guy that has been madly in love with you for 5 years out of his misery and expect me to be normal about it!"

Ariel laughed softly, shaking her head at her sister's dramatic tone.

"Okay, okay, calm down," she said, trying to placate Emma's enthusiasm.

Ariel couldn't help but smile at her sister's excitement, knowing that Emma had always hoped for this to happen between her and Max."I just needed some time to process everything," Ariel explained, leaning back aganst the sofa.

"It's all still very..." Ariel searched for the right word, trying to describe the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling. "It's just a lot to process, you know? We finally took that step, and it's...I don't even know how to describe it," she continued, her voice quieter now.

It was a lot. 

"It's exhilarating, and terrifying, and everything in between. I just...I can't believe it's really happening, you know? That after all this time,  it's finally real," she said weakly. "I didn't think...I didn't think it would ever happen to me. And I don't think that I deserve..."

"Stop," Emma cut her off. "You do deserve this, Ariel. You deserve all the good things the world has to offer."Ariel closed her eyes for a moment, letting Emma's words sink in.

"I just... I'm afraid," she confessed quietly. "What if it all falls apart? What if it's too good to be true?"

Emma sighed. "There are never guarantees," her sister told her seriously. "We know that better than most. We lost Mom...and then 5 years later we lost Dad. And it sucked, Ariel. That we only had such a short time with our parents. But...this is Max we're talking about. He adores you, he's literally obsessed with you. I don't think you need to worry about him up and leaving anytime soon.

Emma was right, of course. Max was loyal and steadfast. He had proven that countless times over the past five years.

She let out a small sigh, feeling some of the tension in her shoulders ease.

"You're right," she admitted. "I'm just...I'm scared, I guess. Scared of getting hurt, scared of being too happy."

"It's okay to be scared, Ari," Emma said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "But you can't let it hold you back. You and Max...you're good for each other. You've danced around it for a long time, but you both knew it. And now..." Emma paused significantly. "You finally took the leap. It's time to enjoy it."

Ariel knew Emma was right. 

She took a deep breath. "You're right," she repeated. "I need to stop worrying and just...enjoy this. Enjoy him.”

"Yeah, shouldn't you still be in bed celebrating his amazing, groundbreaking win?" Ariel teased her.

Ariel let out a soft laugh, feeling heat rising in her cheeks.

"You're terrible," she teased back, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

But inside, her stomach fluttered just thinking about Max.

"He's still sleeping," she admitted, her voice a whisper. "Last night...last night was a lot."She shifted a little, feeling her heart skip at the memories of Max's touch, the way his body had felt pressed against her, the taste of his kisses.

Emma harrumphed. "I still want to kill his father," her sister said drily. "How are you? Really, Ariel."

"Nausea is gone. I got a bruise on my cheek but that's it," Ariel reported honestly. "I'm doing okay," she assured her sister. "Yesterday was just... intense."

Probably the understatement of the century.

Ariel reached up, gently tracing the small bruise on her cheekbone. It ached a bit, swollen and hot to the touch. 

"But Max..." Ariel paused, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Max...was there. He makes everything better.”

Emma harrumphed. "Let him take care of you," her sister told her pointedly. "I need to get ready for work right about now, but we'll talk more soon."

"We'll be in Milton Keynes next week," Ariel promised her. There were three weeks between Brazil and Las Vegas. They would fly back to Monaco later that day and would be to Milton Keynes at least once during the next 3 weeks. 

"BRING HIM TO DINNER!" her sister said as farewell, making her laugh.

Ariel knew that this wasn’t a simple inner invitation, but more an invitation to be the one cooking said dinner.

"Love you," she told Emma softly in response.

"Love you too, Sis!" Emma sing-songed, as she hung up on her. 

Talking to her sister had done her good. It always did. She felt a bit lighter, more grounded.

And still, her thoughts were swirling. 

Of course, they were. 

They were right in the middle of a complete and utter mess. 

Between the media and betting pools about their romantic relationship…and the fact that the two of them han’t even had a proper talk with just the two of them…it was a lot. 

But underneath it all, she felt safe. Safe knowing that Max would be by her side.

And then her stomach growled and Ariel decided that room service was definitely in her future.

"Breakfast it is," she said to herself. 

What she hadn't expected was for the hotel room to end up looking like a flower shop after breakfast had arrived. Hotel Staff had not only brought breakfast...but also not one, not two, but four bouquets of flowers. With her name on them.

Ariel couldn't help but stare at them with no small amount of trepidation.

Ariel could deal with the bouquet of pink carnation, which were from Christian in the name of Red Bull...she also could deal with a wildly colourful bouquet from Franco Colapinto of all people...another bouquet of Amaryllis from some of the mechanics from Max's garage, which was adorable...but she couldn't deal with a massive bouquet of blood red roses.

They were beautiful. Of course, they were.

And they also made her want to throw up. Again. 

Red roses would always remind her of one thing. And one thing only.

Her mother's funeral.

Ariel let out a shaky breath. Memories flooded her mind, each image more vivid than the last.

It was deeply engrained into her brain. Even 15 years later. She still remembered all of it.  The sharp, sweet fragrance of the roses, the deep crimson of the petals, the stark white of the casket...

She remembered. The mournful sobs of the guests. The tears streaming down Ariel's own face...the tears streaming down Emma's face...Percy, who had disappeared off to university as soon as he could afterwards...Their father who had never been the same...

Their father had died 5 years later. Also Cancer. Granted, a different kind...not the breast cancer that had killed her mother...but...but Ariel still thought that it hadn't been the cancer that had killed him. It had been his broken heart.

He hadn’t put up a fight anymore. Not after her death. He had never been quite the same after. 

Ariel closed her eyes, trying to push the memories back into the dark corners of her mind. She had gotten quite good at that. But sometimes they would catch her unaware, like now.

Slowly, she took the card from the bouquet. 

Max knew. Max knew about her hatred for red roses. She had told him once how every time she even smelled them, she wanted to throw up. Why would he...Why would he...

Her fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the card, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. 

Why woul he do that?

 Why would Max send her red roses? He knew what they meant to her. He knew how much she despised them.

He knew her better than that. 

Or at least she had though that he did. 

She couldn’t help the hurt that welled up inside her.

Ariel took a deep, shaky breath before opening the card. The card wasn't handwritten but printed. 

And there was a poem in there.

A poem. 

In all the years that she had known Max, poetry was not his forte. Actually there wasn’t many things that probably interested him less than poetry. 

The fact that the card wasn't handwritten only added to her frustration. She'd much rather have Max's messy cursive, full of his familiar little quirks, than this impersonal thing.

She began reading the poem, the words printed in stark black letters, stark against the white cardstock. She tried to find something, anything in the words that screamed 'Max'. But found nothing.

"Ariel?" His voice was suddenly behind her. "Why does our hotel room look like a flower shop?" She whirled around, meeting his gaze with a mixture of irritation and confusion.

"Did you buy these for me?" Ariel asked him, demanded from Max.

Max stared at her, blonde hair messy, blue eyes still clouded with sleep. 

“What?” he asked her, but then he saw the red roses and his face cleared immediately coming awake.

"No. Ariel, I would never." The clarity in his voice was a balm to the very heart of her. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he wouldn't do this to her.

But the roses were there. Right in front of them. They were undeniable proof.

"You wouldn't write me terrible poetry either, right?" she asked with a shaky voice.

"Schatje, you know me. I am not a guy for poetry," Max assured her, already reaching out for her and as he enveloped her in his arms.

He was warm and he was safe, and he smelled like Max. 

"Then who would do this?" Ariel choked out. 

"I don't know," Max admitted softly, as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  "But I promise you, I didn't do this. I know how much you hate them." His voice was earnest as he said that. 

Ariel looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. But there was nothing but honesty. The way his eyes held her gaze, the gentle firmness in his voice. It all convinced her.

She leaned into his embrace, her shoulders slumping. 

"Then who did?" she asked, her voice soft, almost resigned. Max held her closer, his arms around her. His expression was a mix of anger and concern.

He looked over at the flowers again, his jaw clenching slightly.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice low. "But I will find out."

He gently moved his hands to frame her face, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him. "But right now, I'd rather focus on you. Are you okay?" he asked her. 

Ariel let herself lean into his touch. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. 

"I...yes," she finally mumbled. "I'm okay. Just..." She trailed off, looking at the roses once more. The sight of them still made her skin crawl.

She swallowed, her eyes burning with tears. "I hate them," Ariel said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

"I know," Max murmured, one broad hand gently rubbing over her back. He pulled her even closer, if that was even possible. 

"We'll get rid of them," Max promised, his voice a soft rumble against her ear. "We'll get rid of them, and we'll find out who sent them."

“They were her favourite you know,” she said weakly. “My mom’s,” Ariel clarified. “Dad said they matched her hair…so he bought them for her on their first date.”

Max ran a hand gently through her hair, caressing the soft strands. "Your mother must have had beautiful hair," he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just like you."

They had all inherited her mother’s bright ginger hair…all three of them. Percy, Ariel and Emma. 

Max pause for a moment, his eyes still on the roses, a frown forming on his brow."Schatje," he said softly, "We'll figure this out. We'll find out who sent these. And we'll make sure it never happens again."

“But who would pretend to be you to send me two dozen red roses? And a horrible poem,“ Ariel asked. This didn’t…

“Oh I have some ideas," Max said darkly. He reached out to take the card from her, snorting as he read the poem.

Ariel watched as Max read the card, her heart in her throat.

His reaction was not what she expected. He wasn't enraged or disgusted like she had been. He snorted in derision at the cheesy words on the card.

"This is definitely not me," he said, a hint of wry humour lighting up his eyes."Roses are red, violets are blue, I hate poetry, but I am into you?" he read aloud. “I mean it’s true, but I would hope I would come up with something better to say than that…”

Ariel couldn't help it. Despite everything, she let out a soft snort of laughter.

The poetry was so bad, so cringe-worthy, that it was almost funny.

"Seriously?" she said, her lips curling up in a reluctant smile. "Who could come up with something so...so..."

"Terrible?" Max supplied, his own lips twitching in amusement."I think I know the person that would be idiotic enough to do something like that. The same person that decided that having a whole betting pool on us was also absolutely alright," Max said drily. "Also there is a spelling mistakes in violets, so how high do you think are the chances that this was Lando?"

Ariel's eyes widened as the realisation set in.

Of course. It was so obvious.

"He's never going to get Christmas cookies ever again," she seethed. 

Lando. It had to be Lando.

He had been involved in the whole 'betting pool' fiasco. And now he had the gall to send her roses, and attempt a very bad, very cringey poem. 

He was getting more than just a 'stern talking to', she thought. He was getting an earful.

"No more cookies for Lando," she hissed, her anger beginning to build. 

Max chuckled as he watched her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"You think this is alright?" she snapped at him, staring at him.

"No," Max said drily. "To be honest, I am pretty pissed off about the fact that all of them thought that betting on our private life was a fun past time." 

He was right. The betting pool had been utterly disrespectful and intrusive.

"They had no right," she said quietly. "It's our lives, not some spectator sport." She looked at the flowers again, her annoyance returning momentarily. But then she shook her head and sighed.

"I can't believe Lando would do something like this," she muttered. "I mean, the guy is a menace on track, but off track he's usually just a big teddy bear."

"He definitely knows better," Max pointed out, a slight grimace on his face. "This crosses a line."

"Yeah," Ariel agreed, the anger slowly ebbing away again.

She glanced at Max, her expression a mix of frustration and resignation.

"I know it's just Lando being his usual chaotic self, but..." she paused, struggling to find the words. "But it still hurts. These flowers, this poem. I don't like to be...manipulated like that," she said weakly.

"I get it," Max said softly, pulling her into a comforting embrace. He held her close, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back. "I promise, I'll have a word with Lando," he said, a note of steel in his voice. 

He would. She knew he would. 

She trusted Max to handle Lando.  

A part of her, though, wanted to give Lando a piece of her mind. But right now, in the safety of Max's arms, she felt exhausted.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Her voice was quieter as she spoke.

"Don't go too hard on him," she murmured, a hint of reluctance in her voice. 

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I won't go too hard on him. But he needs to understand that this is not okay. We are not some side show for his entertainment. Or for anybody’s else’s for that matter."

He let out a sigh and pulled her closer against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming her. "We're together because we want to be. Not because people think they can place bets on our relationship like it's a race."

"I know," she said quietly, her eyes slowly drifting shut as exhaustion started to take over.

She snuggled closer against him, her head coming to rest against his chest. The steady thump of his heart was soothing, the rhythm like a lullaby designed to soothe her frayed nerves."We should actually eat the breakfast I ordered," she muttered.

Max chuckled as Ariel's stomach made an impatient noise.

"Yeah," he said, a hint of amusement on his face. "I forgot we were supposed to eat breakfast and instead we're discussing the latest antics of Lando Norris."

He gave her a light squeeze before reluctantly letting her go."Why don't you sit down. I'll get our food?"

[whosdinkleyhenderson]

Beauty and the Void

Readers guide

lil cast list

camilla luddington as Sandra

calam lynch as jessie

Her smile gleamed at the little girl sitting on the counter and hid the cookie behind her back. “Well, well, what do we have here? A little princess?” Y/N gasped, tiptoeing toward her niece.

The little girl giggled, kicking her feet with glee. “Yes, Aunty N/N.”

“Why am I honored to have such a beautiful princess in my coffee shop? May I know your name Miss Princess?” Y/N curtsied.

“I’m princess Belle, Aunty N/N…the one you like.” Her giggles filled the air once again and gained the attention of onlookers. Y/N raised a brow and with her other hand began tapping her chin. “Princess Belle? Hmm, I’m sorry miss Belle, but I’m looking for my niece Eleanora. Have you seen her around, I have a special gift for her.” The little girl’s brows furrowed at the woman in front of her, desperately wanting her cookie. Her little big e/c eyes welled up in tears. In a fit of panic Y/N whipped the cookie out from behind her back and placed it in little Eleanora’s hands.

“You know you’ll make a good actress one day, buttercup.” Her laughter brought a smile to the little girl's face. Either that or the cookie that was now in her grasp.

“You keep on feeding my daughter cookies, and you can start taking her to the dentist.”

“Oh, cool it, Sandra. She’ll be fine! This little tiger has my genes, remember.” Y/N laughed pinching Eleanora’s cheek. The woman’s sister-in-law rolled her eyes as she turned the store sign rendering it closed. The local news played in the background catching the attention of the two women. Their eyes glued to the tv screen as they continued to wipe down tables.

All well suited soldiers standing firm and strong in a row behind a podium. Y/N thoughts instantly went to her brother Rick, wondering if Sandra had heard from him at all.

“Hey Sandra?” The older woman’s eyes were on her in a second and took notice of how her eyes held that look.

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from Rick? Is he okay?”

Sandra knew this was coming, she just hoped not any time soon. How could she answer them when she didn't have an answer herself? the stress of not knowing where her husband was, had been eating her up inside. The constant feeling of something bad happening sat in the pit of her stomach, her baby even knew. Every time she would think of him, a kick would submerge from within. Letting her know, they knew and felt the same emotion as her. But for now they were all left in the dark, a dark that would sooner or later be answered.

“...No, I haven’t.”

Nodding her head Y/N went back to wiping the table, not before taking one last look at the television. “Where could you be Rick?”

The two women had finally closed the coffee shop, with the help of Eleanora. Who insisted on cleaning the counter where her cookie crumbs sat.

“Okay you little monster, I’ll see you tomorrow night for our little sleep over.” Y/N smiled, kissing the little girl's head, before bidding Sandra goodbye.

“Give John my warmest remarks, and tell him for God shakes to ask Danica out already.”

“I can only try. Remember next week I’m having you all for dinner okay?”

“Yes, I remember. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Have fun with Jessie and the girls.”

“You bet I will.” Y/N laughed and waved goodbye, before setting off on foot to John’s place. Allowing her mind to wander to the day Rick and Sandra got married.

She could still recall the day she watched her brother get married to the love of his life, smiling bright. His eyes held the light of purity in them as if he saw nothing but his one and only, his other half. 

Rick and Sandra's Wedding 

Y/N felt a hand gently grasp her fingers as she watched her brothers every move.

“One day that’ll be you, my sweet angel.” Her fathers gently tone always washed away her worries. Especially after the events that occurred with her mother when she was 6 years old.

“Thank you, dad. But I think it might be John next, not me.” She giggled as she watched her brother’s best friend eye the woman on the other side of the altar.

“I suppose you’re right there, angel. Those two make a perfect couple as well.”

Present Day

Smiling at the memory Y/N skipped up the steps to John’s front door and anxiously waited. She promised to bring him a batch of baked pastries the next time the shop had some left over. His front door opened, and in an instant, she jumped at the sight of him. Engulfing the man in a gigantic bear hug, oblivious to the group of people watching from the couch.

“Oh John, how I’ve missed you.” Her whisper tickled the side of his cheek before she gave it a big kiss.

“I know, kid, I know. I’ve missed you too.” He smiled and pulled away, surprised they didn’t squish the baked pastries. Y/N melted into his touch, it felt good to have a warm set of loving arms wrapped around her. The feeling reminded her so much of him, she missed her brother, Rick. And to see John brought light back into her world.

“How’s Rick? Have you heard from him?”

“Nah, it’s been a good two weeks. Sandra is starting to get a little worried. With Eleanora constantly asking where he is and the baby being almost due. But you know, working for the government and all that crap.” She laughed as she made her way into his living room. Surprised by the sight in front of her. All eyes on her, expect one.

“Oh umm…Hello…pastries?”

Bob had been anxious about John’s invite. As he hadn't hung out with friends in ages since he volunteered to be a part of Valentina's experiments. Not believing he forgot the one thing he used to be so good at. Socialising, and with this new power brought the fear out of everyone even when he was himself and sentry. A beast created by a monster. The modern day Jekel and Hyde. But when he heard her sweet voice, all his worries and thoughts disappeared and for once he felt at peace.

“Hey bud, you better close your mouth. You might catch flies.” A gruff voice whispered in his ear. The realisation hit him like a truck. He was staring at the girl in denim overalls, who placed a container of pastries out in front of everyone. When did I look up? How long was I staring? Oh God I hope I didn’t make her uncomfortable…Shit she’s looking at me, avert your eyes Bob, avert!

“And by the look John is giving you, I would hurry it up.” He took one quick glance at John and averted his intimidating gaze.

“So, are you going to introduce us to this light of beauty? Are we gonna have to guess?”

If looks could kill Alexei would surely be shot, twice. One by John and the next by Yelena.

“Oh, for God sakes, Alexei please stop.”

Drifting his glare from the older man. John locked eyes with Y/N silently asking for her permission, which earned him a nod from the girl.

“Guys this is Y/N, my best mate's little sister. Y/N meet…” John named each person, giving the girl a slight wave and thank you for the treats. Her eyes landed on the quiet one of the bunch, she noticed he didn’t have one of her pastries in his grasp. Quick to her feet she made her way to him.

“Hey.” in a heartbeat he locked eyes with her, and noticed in an instant the warmth that swam inside them. Bob could only muster up a small smile, as she gestured to the small spot beside him. “May I?”

Without hesitation he scooted across, allowing room for her and averted his gaze from her.

“Would it be considered prying if I ask, why you haven’t grabbed a pastry? They’re fresh and handmade, none of that factory made stuff.”

Bucky watched the two, silently scolding Bob for not speaking. Within a split-second Bob was up and uttered something about needing to go to the bathroom. How were they supposed to tell her that they were hiding the most dangerous man on this earth from a crazy psycho? Who the public saw as a saint.

“Sorry Doll, he’s a little shy…don’t worry give him time.”

“Oh okay…nah that’s understandable.” She smiled as she pulled out a napkin and placed a sweet on it. “Well, when he comes back tell him to try this Orange creme filled Pasticciotto. It was my grandfather’s favourite.”

Bucky nodded at her introduction and smiled. “Of course, Doll.”

Standing up she bid her goodbye to everyone and allowed John to walk her out.

“Off to see Jessie, I take it?”

“Yes I am, hence the second box.” She gestured to her arms.

“I swear you spoil him and his nieces. When are you two going to get together already?”

“Well excuse me for being a nice neighbour, and besides I could say the same thing about you and Danica.” His eyes widened at her remark, knowing damn well she was right, he had been planning to ask but was just scared. Ironic right?

“I will, I will. Gee I got you, your father and Sandra on my back about it.”

“You better, coz she’s also coming next week for dinner. To which I hope you’ll still be coming…hopefully, Rick will be back by then.” John noticed how Y/N’s demeanor changed at the mention of her brother, but as quick as it came it left. Smiling, she kissed his cheek and bid him goodbye. John closed the door and went back to the group, wondering where Rick could be.

Y/N turned in the direction she intended to proceed down, she was stopped by a figure in a trench coat.

“May I help you?”

The figure stepped closer, heels clicking against the pavement.

“Whatever you do, don’t trust that man.” Man? What man? Who could they be talking about. As Y/N went to question the strange figure, they disappeared right before her eyes. Blinking, Y/N froze, shocked by the scene that just occurred. Snapping out her shocked state, she began her journey to Jessie’s place. Spearing one last glance behind her. “Weird.”

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 6)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ Evan and Y/N are back in LA. When he dares Y/N to wear vibrating panties at his friend’s party, things go from flirty to explosive. What starts as a cheeky challenge turns into a heated race to the guest room, where they unleash an erotic showdown of throbbing heat and raw need. Just as their passion peaks, a shocking announcement throws their world suddenly into chaos. 

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, vibrator teasing, overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, pinned against the wall, doggie, extra smutty—it’s the norm by now ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

Word count ─ 4.5K (they’re getting longer, you guys 😱)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

The evening sun dips below the horizon, bathing your apartment in a warm, honeyed glow. You adore these longer days—they make everything feel more alive. You saunter across the room, the hem of your mini skirt flaring and swishing around your thighs. Your outfit hugs your body like a second skin, leaving just enough to the imagination.

Your phone screen catches your eye, gleaming in the dim light. 21:16. You’re officially late for the party, and you can’t shake the nagging feeling that you should be rushing out the door. “Evan, we’re gonna miss all the fun if we don’t hurry,” you call out, trying to keep the urgency from creeping into your voice as you spritz on your favourite perfume.

Evan lounges on the couch, long arms draped over the sides and legs stretched out, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Chill, baby. Fashionably late is our brand,” he defends with a confident wink.

A script lies forgotten across his lap, the pages flipping slightly from the ceiling fan overhead. He’s petting Rufus, your housemate Mayra’s Siamese cat, who purrs contentedly beside him. Mayra had barely returned from NYC before jetting off to Turkey to tend to her ill dad. With no time to get Rufus’ travel documents in order, he stayed behind, leaving you in charge of his care. You couldn’t ask for a better arrangement, to be honest.

Evan’s eyes are not on the words bouncing across the page in front of him; they’re on you and with a laser-focused intensity that makes the room feel a few degrees hotter. You sense his gaze tracking your every move as you flit from room to room; he traces the way your hair smoothly cascades over your bare shoulders, following the delicate arch of your back and the fabric clinging onto the curve of your ass just right.

His eyes linger, greedily drinking in every inch of your body as you rifle through your porcelain jewellery box. His gaze feels like a warm caress, drawn to the rhythmic sway of your hips with every stride, your smooth skin glowing under the light. Your bare feet make no sound on the plush carpet, but the air between you two seems to crackle like a live wire.

You pick out a discreet rose gold necklace, clasping it around your neck so it flows over your protruding collarbones.

“Are you gonna stare all night, or do I need to start charging for tickets?” you tease huskily, glancing over your shoulder with a sly smirk.

He chuckles, a rich rumble that sends a delightful tingle across your skin. “If I had to pay for a view like this, I’d be flat broke. I’m not sure I’m ready to share you with anyone else’s eyes tonight. Maybe we should skip the party and stay in,” he taunts, waggling his brows with a suggestive crooked smile.

Although his deep voice purrs with a seductive charm that always sends a shiver down your spine, you shake your head with a mischievous grin. “How about no? Nice try, but we’re going. So, get your adorable ass off that couch and put on your shoes, handsome.”

You head to your bedroom to grab your shoes and jacket, feeling his eyes trained on you. “Looks like you and Rufus are hitting it off, despite your die-hard dog obsession,” you mock as you pace back to the living room, fluffing your hair in the mirror with a casual toss.

He nods in agreement as he gently scratches behind Rufus’ ears. “We’re practically besties, but there’s only one pussy I’m interested in tonight,” he spills out, his lips curling into a knowing grin.

You catch his reflection in the mirror, snorting at his bold remark. “Is that so?” you coo, eyebrows raised, your voice dripping with feigned surprise.

There’s a wicked, predatory glint in his eyes as he slips off the couch with fluid confidence, nodding. In an instant, he’s beside you, his arms sliding around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. He brushes his chin along the nape of your neck, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your shoulder blade as he lets out a shallow breath into the shell of your ear.

“You know, miss, you’re making it very hard to concentrate on anything but you,” he rasps, his tone a low, intimate murmur that makes your insides flutter.

He peppers kisses along your shoulder until his lips find your earlobe, taking it between his teeth for a gentle nibble that makes your breath hitch and your pulse quicken. His arm glides across your stomach, splaying possessively on your hip, while the other hand sneaks up under your top. The electric feel of his fingertips cupping your tits and tugging at your hard nipples forces a gasp out of you.

“Evan,” you manage to huff out, trying to wiggle free from his grasp, but his robust arms only tighten around you. Each breath you take stutters in your chest as you struggle to form a coherent thought. “We gotta go.”

“No, we don’t,” he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he leans in to kiss the sensitive spot just below your jawline. “Come on,” he pleads and pulls you back in, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves love bites along your flesh. “We’ve got a few minutes for a little appetiser before the main course, right?”

“We’re already late, Evan, and you’re not exactly helping,” you growl lowly through gritted teeth, playfully swatting his hands away. You’re giving him a reality check, but the scratchy undertone in your voice betrays your growing arousal.

“I could help you out of these clothes, though,” he blurts out with a smug smile, his arms glued around your waist, making your heart race even faster. You can feel the hard lines of his body as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your top. 

“It’s just a house party, no biggie. My friends are cool with it…but you’re too hot to handle… and I’m having a very haaard time keeping cool,” he rambles, his face buried in your hair. He inhales a deep whiff of your jasmine scent, his hands roaming hungrily over your curves. 

“Evan, we won’t get outta here if you keep this up,” you chide tenderly, though your words tumble down breathless and wanting.

Every fibre of your body screams at you to resist, to not let him fuck up into you. Even when his crotch is hard of rocket magnitude and leaking for you, and he’s only intelligible for a mere “Just sit on it, baby, please.” 

Even when he’s mindlessly babbling utter nonsense crap because he truly has nothing in his head but the feel of your hot, wet pussy restlessly sliding over his cock until he loads you up to the brim.

Even when all you want is to play with his angered red tip, pull it back to open his little slit up and make him mewl, a chocked oh my fucking god, please escaping him. Even when you press his cockhead to your clit and rub it around, slapping it relentlessly on your cunt, and he implores you to stop.

“Evan…” your voice a breathy whisper as he hikes up your skirt, his feather-light touch making your cunt pulsate. He hums as his hands travel over your torso, now slowly and tortuously snaking underneath your skirt. “It’s not nice...your friends are waiting for u-u-s,” you trail off, your tone dying out as you feel his erection nudging insistently against your lower back.

You love the hard press of his boner against you. It makes your heart thud and your pussy drip, knowing you’re the sole source and cause of all that raw desire.

“We need to leave-e…” you protest weakly, torn between the ticking clock and the sinful temptation to stay and get laid. But your voice lacks conviction as he drags kisses down your shoulders, each one more insistent and heady than the last.

He chuckles softly, sensing the crack in your resolve. “We can, don’t worry,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending electric jolts down your core. “I’ll make it worth every second.”

Deftly unzipping your skirt from behind, his hands—firm and decisive—massage your ass as he leans in, peering into your panties. The sight of your black thong on full display makes him suck in a sharp breath and instinctively squeeze your waist in his strong hands.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N,” he hisses, voice thick with lust and just a hint of disbelief, like he can’t believe his luck. You let out a soft mewl as his erection grinds between your ass cheeks, almost spreading them apart with its intensity. The heat of his body seeps into you, and you can practically feel your slick pooling, turning your thoughts into a jumbled mess.

His lips find your neck again, this time more urgent and harsher, nibbling at your skin with a fervour that makes your brain go all mushy. You wince reflexively, but the brief sting melts into pleasure as his tongue laps over the forming hickey, soothing the bruise with gentle strokes. 

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonising slowness. Just as you’re about to speak, his fingers slide against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you lose all train of thought. You moan, tilting your head to grant him better access, your fingers threading into his hair to massage his scalp, holding him close.

His free hand moves over yours, and you guide his fingers towards your bundle of nerves. “Oh, shit,” he hushes, his breath hot and laboured against your skin. His thumb brushes against your plump lips, parting them gently to reveal the soaked slit of your beautiful pussy.

“Imagine my dick drowning in these waters,” he mumbles more to himself, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you firm. His hips rub against you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the friction making you arch into him, craving more of the pleasure he promises with every motion.

“Evan…” you breathe, the sound barely audible over your thundering pulse. But he hears you perfectly. His lips curve into a devilish grin against your neck as his fingers continue their teasing dance, sliding through your wetness with practised ease.

His thumb circles your clit with maddening slowness, and you can feel the heat swimming in your belly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. His other hand grips your hip, anchoring you to him as he rubs against you. The pressure of his cock, still slotted between your ass cheeks, is a constant reminder of how desperately he needs himself inside you.

When he plunges two fingers through your sobbing walls, you mewl loudly. Your hands clutch at his shirt as your arousal splashes across your lower abdomen, trickling down your thighs. The sensation makes your legs quiver, begging to clamp together, but he keeps them firmly apart, teasing you with a wicked smile. He purposefully pops his fingers out just to smear your slick juices over your entrance before brushing his thumb along your swollen clit, and then sliding back in.

You bite your lip, your knees buckling, choked moans escaping as you watch his fingers disappear beneath you. They stretch your cunt, his index and middle fingers screwing and twisting just enough to draw a series of desperate whimpers from your lips. The way they press against your sensitive, gummy walls makes you feel deliciously full.

“I-I need my cock in here like…yesterday,” he huffs out, his voice strained with lust. His eyes flicker between your face—your brows furrowed, jaw slack with uncontrollable pleasure—and your beautiful sex clenching around his fingers.

“Evan,” you moan again, more insistently this time, your tone quiet yet desperate. His fingers probe in and out, deep in your cunt at an excruciatingly slow pace, curling expertly until the knot in your stomach stiffens. You can feel yourself spasming around him, your body on the edge of bliss. 

You know you’re losing this battle, but a part of you doesn’t care. Not when he’s making you feel like this. 

“T-t-tell me what you want, baby,” he dares in a passionate whisper. He keeps working his fingers in sync with your choppy breaths, angling them just enough to tease your deeper spots.

“I want more,” you exhale, every word laced with despair. “Finish me up,” you plead, and your eyes lock onto him. His dick twitches needily, responding to every tug of his fingers and the wanting moans gushing from your throat.

He lets out a dark chuckle as his fingers pump in and out, his knuckles sinking in through your arousal. “Consider it done,” he fires back, his voice a low growl as he swipes his fingers left and right with rapid precision. The messy, obscene sounds of your slick, wet cunt echo through the room, making him impossibly harder.

Your thighs twitch and ache with every deep plunge, instinctively trying to close around his hand that’s practically fucking you into exquisite sensitivity. Your hand wraps around his forearm, an attempt to slow him down, but it’s like trying to stop a freight train with a feather. Your nails bite into his skin, forming little half-moon indentations.

He laughs breathlessly, his teeth scraping your sensitive flesh as he ruthlessly works you over. His eyes are on your flushed face from the side, watching how your expression shifts with every thrust, your cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. He smirks at the sound, utterly captivated by your body’s reactions.

“You sound so pretty,” he grunts, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milk small sobs out of you. “You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he hushes, lips caressing your neck. Your pussy practically moulds around his slender fingers, holding them captive as you claw at him, your orgasm building and rolling through you like a storm about to break.

Evan groans, his arm veins (aka your fetish) popping out, the muscles in his shoulders straining against his shirt as he picks up speed. Your moans become louder, your breathing erratic and desperate.

“Cum for me, baby girl, would you?” he sighs, smacking your ass with his free hand as his clothed erection rages against you, demanding attention.

You nod eagerly, your eyes darting down to his bulge, wanting to reach out and feel him through the fabric. But he’s quick to catch your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it with surprising tenderness. “This is your moment,” he whispers, his voice filled with possessive intent. “I want you fully here with me, no distractions.”

Was that a man written by Olivia Laing, directed by Sofia Copolla and sung by Lana Del Rey? Just sayin’...

He dips inside you all the way to the hilt, upping his pace and rubbing tight figure eights against your clit like he’s discovered a new hobby. He mutters a string of curses under his breath as he watches your pussy swell around him, your clit throbbing under his relentless touch. You’re milliseconds away from an earth-shattering climax when an unexpected clatter slices through the air.

Rufus, your ever-watchful feline roommate/guardian, has knocked his metal off the dining table, sending it clanging across the floor like a gong of doom. His eyes are on you both with a judgmental glare, as if he’s caught you skipping class to make out behind the bleachers. It’s like he’s planned this interruption—a well-curated, meticulously premeditated offence.

You both flinch, gasping at the sudden chaos that shatters the moment. Evan snickers, reluctantly pulling away, his fingers shiny with the evidence of your disrupted freaky time. You lock eyes with Rufus, who’s perched on the table like a miniature tyrant, his tail flicking, clearly unfazed by your antics.

“Your son’s hungry,” Evan quips, smirking as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your cum with exaggerated flair, humming at your taste. “Perfect timing, really. The little guy just wants to make sure you’re not having more fun than him.”

You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him as you smooth out your clothes with hurried hands, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Rufus is a more responsible and diligent adult than us,” you mutter, adjusting your top. “Honestly, he’d make a great personal assistant if he didn’t have such a lousy attitude.” 

Rufus merely blinks, unimpressed, as you dash off to the kitchen to grab his food, trying to ignore the lingering heat between your thighs. But behind you, Evan’s throaty chuckle reverberates across the room, making your knees weak all over again.

“Shoes, please,” you call over your shoulder as you scoop kibble into Rufus’ bowl, trying to maintain some authority. “We’re leaving, Evan… like now. And not a second later, or I’m dragging you by your shirt collar. Don’t make me put on my mum voice.” 

“Woo, feisty,” he teases, puckering his lips mischievously as he slides on his shoes, still flushed and grinning like a naughty schoolboy. You shoot him a glare, trying to stay serious, but your lips twitch with amusement.

He throws his hands up in feigned remorse, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine,” he concedes, though his eyes light up with mischief. “But I’m definitely picking up where I left off.” 

You glance back at him as you set Rufus’ food down. “And what does this mean, Peters?” you challenge him, tongue grazing your side teeth. Your curiosity is piqued, wondering just how far he’s willing to go once you’re back alone together.

Rufus sniffs his food approvingly, tossing you a look that says, Finally some service in this house as he begins to eat with regal disinterest, tail swishing like a sceptre.

Evan disappears briefly, and you hear him rummaging through his bag. When he returns, he’s got a small box behind his back, and the tension in the room skyrockets with each passing second.

He slowly pops the lid off, each moment stretching out as you watch, breathless with anticipation. “Are you gonna propose?” you squeak, already half-freaking out at the prospect.

He bursts out laughing. “Close enough… but not yet,” he cheers, eyes drown in yours, eager and mischievous, as you peek inside to find a burgundy bullet vibrator nestled in a cocoon of velvet.

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the object, a swirl of thoughts crashing through your mind. “You didn’t,” you gasp, eyes almost bulging off their sockets. 

Evan’s fingers stroke lightly over the smooth, silky silicone. “Oh, I did,” he murmurs, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “I want you to wear this. To the party.”

“You’re joking. What’s that for?” you ask, suspicion lacing your voice as you eye the device like it’s a ticking time bomb.

“It’s my hand’s substitute,” he quips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thought it’d make the party more… stimulating,” he adds with a wink. “It’s a night out and a night in, all rolled into one.”

Your jaw drops as the implications hit you. “Evan, you wouldn’t dare in front of all those people.”

“Oh, yes, I would,” he counters, brandishing a small remote like it’s the ultimate power tool. “Let’s see if you can behave yourself,” he dares, his thumb hovering tantalisingly over the on-off button. “I’ll have you buzzing all night, baby. All highs, no lows.”

You shake your head, biting your lip between excitement and disbelief. “You’re impossible,” you giggle, your voice barely above a breathless whisper.

He steps closer, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless, his lips moving with a hunger that makes you tremble. “Only when it comes to you,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. “And I promise to be gentle…most of the time, ma’am,” he continues, tailing it all off with a teasing soldier salute.

The bass from Gorillaz’s Feel Good Inc. thumps through the walls as you step into the house. The party’s already in full swing, laughter and joyful chatter floating up from every corner. Evan’s hand is a warm, reassuring weight on your lower back, steering you through the crowd like he’s the captain of this chaos.

Your outfit is drawing more than a few admiring glances as you weave through the throng of partygoers. If only they knew about the little secret buzzing beneath it all—a pair of vibrating panties, locked and loaded, with Evan holding the remote like it’s his personal plaything. His grin is downright wicked, a mix of triumph and mischief, like he’s got you on a leash, promising both pleasure and torment. You swallow hard, anticipation pooling low in your belly.

As you tread past the other guests, you catch sight of a few familiar faces from past outings with Evan during the nine months you’ve been together. There’s Mike, the self-proclaimed beer pong king, who’s always boasting about his legendary tournaments, with Evan often being the unfortunate opponent. And then there’s Lily, your lovely girly pop, who wouldn’t be caught dead without her portable fan, waving it like she’s a Southern belle about to faint from the heat. 

You bump into Jake, your host, who’s holding court by the swimming pool with a group of friends. As soon as he spots you both, his face lights up, breaking into a wide grin.

“There they are! The dynamic duo!” Jake bellows, raising his solo cup in a toast as he swaggers over, pulling you both into a hearty bear hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Evan assures, his grin expanding. “Heard you were rolling out the red carpet just for us.”

“How else would I welcome the celebrities, eh?” Jake hoots, playfully thumping Evan’s arm like it’s a punching bag. “And look at my boy, all beefed up for Tron after that Dahmer famine. Y/N’s keeping you well-fed, I see,” he jests, wrapping Evan into a playful headlock and rubbing his head like a proud big brother.

Evan lets out a hearty laugh, pretending to struggle. “What can I say? She’s a miracle worker. Took me from beanpole to beefcake in record time!”

“Had to get him back on his feet, didn’t I?” you quip, watching Evan flex his muscles dramatically like he’s auditioning for a superhero movie. The exaggerated poses have you all in stitches. “Careful, those guns are a safety hazard,” you exclaim, poking his bicep.

Jake rolls his eyes, still grinning. “Well, you’ll need those muscles to handle the drinks tonight. They’re stronger than ever, so pace yourselves,” he warns, winking like he’s letting you in on juicy gossip.

You exhale loudly, placing the back of your hand to your forehead in mock drama. “Are we talking rocket-fuel strong? Got anything that won’t make me see double in two sips?” you ask, giving Jake a playful nudge.

Jake gasps in mock outrage, clutching his chest. “Hey, I’m practically a mixologist now,” he grumbles, acting deeply wounded by your lack of faith. 

Just then, you feel Evan’s hand slipping into his pocket. You know what he’s up to, but before you can react, your panties spring to life with a gentle buzz. The loud Maroon 5 playlist drowns out the sound, but it doesn’t stop the sudden bolt of pleasure that zips through you. You inhale sharply, eyes widening.

Evan inspects you with a sidelong look and a mischievous gleam in his eyes, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Everything okay, Y/N?” he asks, feigning innocence like he’s not the one flicking the damn remote buttons in his pocket.

You cast him a death-stare, running a shaky hand through your hair. “Oh, just peachy,” you croak, forcing a smile towards Jake while the vibrations catch deliciously against your clit and slit. It’s a struggle to keep your knees from buckling, but you’re determined not to give Evan the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, my love, would you?”

Evan grins, his expression the epitome of mischief. “Not a clue.” 

“Maybe it’s the party vibe getting to you,” Jake retorts, snapping his fingers as the music swells. “Let me whip you up something real quick. You’ll be singing my praises for my drink by the end of the night. Be right back.”

As soon as Jake’s out of earshot, you lean closer to Evan, lowering your voice to a hushed yet playful mumble. “You’re such a bastard,” you hiss, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as another wave of pleasure ripples through you. “I’m gonna get you back for this,” you mutter, but you bite your lip to supress your moans, dulling the sharpness of your threat.

His hearty laugh engulfs you, clearly showing how much fun he’s having with your delightful predicament. “I’d like to see you try, baby girl,” he taunts, giving your waist a gentle squeeze and your lips a set of loving pecks. “Besides, I think you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on.”

You click your tongue and narrow your eyes at him, trying to act nonchalant despite the relentless vibrations. “You just wait, Mr. I-think-I’m-so-clever,” you begin, but he shuts you up by crashing his lips against yours. His tongue raids in your mouth, like he’s claiming it, while his left hand wanders up to fondle your breast with playful desperation.

Without warning, Lily sidles up beside you. “Hey guys,” she cries out, arms wide open as she air-kisses you both. “Oops, am I interrupting your get-a-room moment? Long time no see! Y/N, my stunner. What’s your secret? A killer workout routine, or just pure happiness? I swear, I’m trying to drop some fat, but those damn fries keep calling my name,” she rambles, pouting in frustration. 

You laugh nervously, struggling to focus on Lily’s chatter over the persistent, teasing pulse of the vibrator that Evan has intentionally set to a teasing low. “Uh… you know, Lily… I-I. It’s mostly yoga and... m-maybe...uh a little too much caffeine,” you stammer, doing your best to mask the delicious distraction fluttering between your legs. 

“Or maybe it’s a little too much of Evan’s company,” she teases with a mischievous wink. 

Evan chuckles, his eyes dancing with a roguish glint as he casts you a sidelong glance that says more than words ever could. “I like to think I’m a positive influence,” he quips, his hand tightening on your lower back as he plants a kiss on your forehead. His gaze hints at a playful secret, clearly plotting something.

Just then, Jake struts back over, handing you a drink with an exaggerated flourish. “One cocktail for the fair lady,” he declares dramatically. “Tell me this doesn’t taste like heaven.”

You take a sip, and the fruity concoction explodes on your tongue like a carnival parade. “Alright, I’ll give it to you, Jake. This one’s a keeper,” you cheer, nodding appreciatively.

Jake bows deeply, puffing out his chest with mock pride. “You’re welcome, Y/N!” he sings, standing tall with exaggerated poise, as if he’s accepting an award for best bartender. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, chicos, I’ve got more magic to conjure.” With a final spin and a wink, he leaves you and Evan to your own devices, his exit as theatrical as his entrance.

The garden is a dimly lit dance floor, pulsing with the beat of the music. You and Evan are wrapped up in each other, swaying to the rhythm.

“God, I love this song,” he purrs, his body pressed close to yours, moving in perfect harmony. “But I love you more.” 

“I love you too,” you mouth, smiling bashfully, as you reach up and tangle your fingers through his hair, tugging him down for a kiss. It’s soft at first, a teasing brush of lips, but swiftly escalates into something rougher. His tongue sweeps past your lips, exploring and tasting, invading your mouth. You lose yourself in the kiss, the world around you fading into a blur of tunes and arousal. 

A group of friends gathers around, joining in a spontaneous dance choreo. You raise your drink to your lips, savouring the moment, when suddenly the vibrations crank up, hitting you like a jolt of electricity. You cough, nearly choking on your drink and almost dropping the glass. A wave of pleasure crashes through you, finally making your knees buckle. You gasp loudly, your face burning bright red. Lily pats your back, her concern evident as she watches you with raised eyebrows, while Evan’s grin stretches impossibly wider.

Evan vs Y/N 15 - 0

As the night wears on, you’re deep in conversation with Lily about her latest dating disaster—a guy who thought karaoke night was a perfect first date and that feminism is just an overhyped fad—when Evan decides it’s the perfect moment to dial up the levels to the max because…he can. The panties whir harder, the palpitation surge ruthlessly. You clutch the edge of the table for support, covering your mouth to stifle any sounds, praying no one notices your red-hued cheeks.

Lily, ever observant, glances at you, her head tilted with curiosity. “You okay, Y/N?” she asks, frowning slightly with worry.

You force a twitching smile, your eyes watering as you nod vigorously. “Yeah, just...really into the party,” you slur, your words catching in your throat, and you hope your tone doesn’t give off the sweet agony you’re enduring.

Evan, ever the tease, smirks at you from across the room, clearly pleased with himself. He raises his glass in a mock toast, enjoying the little game he’s orchestrated.

You give him a look that promises retribution. You swear, you’re going to wipe that smug look off his face later.

Lily heads straight for the buffet, giving you a perfect chance to escape the outdoor mayhem. Realising the downstairs bathroom is occupied, you make your way to the one upstairs. Evan floats up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. His beer bottle presses against your hip bones, and his hot breath against your ear makes your core shudder.

“Having fun?” he purrs, his tone velvety and inviting. Before you can catch a breath and reply, he spins you around and hammers his lips against yours. His tongue dives into your mouth again, taking charge with an eager frenzy that leaves your senses reeling. He’s kissed you a hundred times tonight, but each one sends you spinning into another freaking dimension.

You don’t mind the way his lips are bruising yours with each expert tilt of his head. His hands glide down, and with a playful smack on your ass, you groan into the kiss. He always kisses you senseless, leaving you breathless, aching and craving for more. 

You draw in a shaky breath as you try to regain your footing. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” you coo, tucking a stray curl of hair behind his ear, “or I’d be prepping up some serious revenge right about now.”

Evan lets out a playful giggle, his lips brushing yours as he leans in for another fiery kiss. “I’d be seriously disappointed if you weren’t,” he rasps against your mouth, his voice hoarse and filled with mischievous intent.

“You’re such a troublemaker.” Once again, you try to sound stern, but the twinkle in your eye gives you away as you start for the bathroom.

But Evan’s having none of it. He slams his arm against the doorframe, effectively boxing you in. “I know,” he growls softly, his voice laced with lust. “But you love it.”

“You wish,” you hum, teasingly pinching his cheek. As you try to sidestep him and go back to the party outside, he shifts with you, his body melding into yours, blocking your every escape route.

“We’re not leaving until I fuck you.”

A shudder of arousal runs down your spine at his statement and the gruffness of his voice. You arch an eyebrow, trying to stay composed despite the heat rising between you. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Begging you for my freedom?”

He chuckles darkly as he gives you a once-over, his eyes flashing with raw desire. “No, you look like you want me inside you,” he fires back, your heart thumping wildly like it’s going a mile in a minute, and you struggle to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Y/N, I don’t think you quite understand how much I want you.” There’s a short distance between you as he’s looming over you, his breath scorching hot on your neck. “Every time you try to move, it just hits me how badly I need you.”

You shiver intensely as his words ignite a fiery thrill inside you. Trying to ignore the way his body is pressed firmly against yours, you clear your throat and force a playful grin. “Well, you know, a little public pressure never hurt anyone.”

His lips form a wicked smile as he walks you backwards, step by step until your back hits open the door of one of the guest rooms. Pushing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarls, “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now. If I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m taking you out there in front of the whole damn party.”

You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your top as his hands move over your skin, with a confident yet affectionate grasp. They cup your ass beneath your skirt and drag you closer. You think you can tamp down the soft groan trapped in your throat, but you’re sorely mistaken when it tumbles down, strained and punchy, without remorse. 

“So what’s it gonna be, Y/N? In this room or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your call,” he insists, his tone both commanding and mischievous, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I-in here,” you stutter.

The Cheshire cat smirk you receive in return spikes your nerves even higher. “Bingo.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, he hoists you up into his arms with powerful ease. The door clicks shut behind you with a definitive thud as he smothers the little squeal ripped from you with his lips. The new angle allows him to roughen the kiss even more, and you feel every tensing muscle of his body against yours.

He wastes no time—he dives in like he’s starving, tongue slashing into your mouth with hungry urgency, fighting for dominance like always. His slurred groans vibrate against your lips, his tongue darting and flicking against yours. A zing of electricity shoots straight to your pussy, and you’re clumsily fumbling with his clothes to get them off him—buttons popping, belt clinking, a flurry of desperate hands.

In a swift, flawless motion, he strips you off your skirt and top, tossing them aside with a flick of his wrist before gently laying you on the bed. You perk yourself up on your elbows, staring up at your boyfriend’s towering stature. Your chest heaves with exhilaration, imagining the joy of having his load spilling inside you.

Still holding his beer like a trophy, he unzips the fly of his trousers with excruciating suspense. He shuffles them down just past his ass until his cock bounces out. You gasp at the sight; he really is hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein bulging from his thick length is anything to go by. He’s throbbing—you can see his dick viciously twitching with needy desire, sending another gushing wave of slick pouring out of your eager pussy.

As he kicks off his pants, he pounces on top of you, his rock-hard erection rubbing continuously against your slick folds. His mouth slips down your collarbone, igniting trails of fire as they move up to your neck. Each kiss is a jolt as his lips sloppily slide along yours, both of you swallowing each other’s moans.

“I’ve been dreaming about those sweet lips of yours all night,” he murmurs, his voice a heavy, lustful whisper that vibrates through you. “But not these ones.” He nibbles gently at your nipple, his breath hot and sensual against your flesh. He releases the area with a resounding pop before continuing his sweet ordeal, kissing up the column of your throat to your jaw and then finally your lips. “I wanna make out with your bottom lips until you crumble to dust in my hands.”

The thought of his mouth on you, his nose deep on the ridge of your clit while his tongue plunges deep into your gummy walls, lost in the sauce, sends a spark of excitement rushing through your veins. Those wet, slow licks across your slit until his chin drips with your juices…my god.

But as his hand and mouth drift lower to your sensitive bud, your playful defiance takes over. With a mischievous grin, you flip him over with a strength that makes even you recoil in surprise. You straddle him, pressing your palms against his firm chest, practically caging him beneath you with a triumphant smile.

“Sorry, baby boy, but you’ve got me so worked up with your freaking remote that I need you deep inside now. Ravage me,” you demand, your voice a sultry growl.

That sputters a chuckle from him as he spanks your ass, biting his lips, anticipation building to a fever pitch. With a gentle but firm grip, he takes your chin between his fingers, locking eyes with you. His dark orbs seem to pierce right through your soul. “Then, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy the ride,” he whispers, his smirk promising a world of velvety pleasures.

led with equal parts lust and admiration. His hands massage your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his forefingers before gripping your thighs, nails digging in just enough to make you shiver with want.

As you hover over him, poised to take on cowgirl duties, a sudden commotion from the hallway erupts through the haze of passion. Voices, loud and furious, yank you back to reality like a bucket of ice water splashed over your heated skin.

“What was that?” you gasp, freezing mid-motion, eyes wide darting to the door.

Evan sits up, concern etched on his face. His hands are still steadying your hips, but his body is in full alert mode. “Damn it,” you whisper-shout as something heavy shatters against the wall outside. Your pulse hammers as you scramble off Evan, instinctively clutching the sheet to your chest to cover your nudity.

His protective instincts kick in immediately. He wraps his arms around you protectively, pulling you into his warm embrace. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tenderly kissing the crown of your head. His voice is a soothing balm against the tension—the voices outside now distinct as those of a man and a woman trapped in a fierce argument. “Probably just some drunk jerks. I’ll handle this. You stay behind,” he commands, his expression hardening, a deep furrow in his brow as he reaches for his clothes. 

Together, you sneak toward the door, the shouting growing clearer as you get closer. You exchange puzzled looks, trying to figure out what’s going on out there.

You press your ear to the door, listening intently. But then the angry voices suddenly shift—what was a heated argument dissolves into… laughter? You blink in confusion, pulling back slightly.

“Is that... Mike?” you mumble, recognising the unmistakably boisterous laugh of his friend, mingling with a few others.

Evan lets out a breath he’s been holding, shaking his head with a mix of relief and annoyance. “Those idiots,” he spits out, sighing, as his shoulders relax and the tension of the false alarm dissipates. “I swear it’s like a damn sitcom in here sometimes,” he scoffs. His hands find your waist again, his touch warm and familiar, as if he’s trying to rekindle the heat that was simmering between you just moments ago.

“Maybe we should go back to the party,” you suggest, your voice a little sheepish, trying to ensure everything’s okay. 

“No way I’m letting you go,” he croons, his lips hovering dangerously over the soft, greedy slope of your neck. His hard, thick cock is just a whisper out of reach, teasing and taunting you with its nearness. 

You hiccup a gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall with a force that makes your knees wobble. His mouth captures yours in a sloppy kiss that wipes away any remnants of anxiety, replacing them with a renewed surge of burning desire. 

“I’m so wet for you,” you breathe in half-protest, half-plea as he trails kisses down your neck. 

“I can tell,” he mumbles, chuckling against the steamy flesh of your boobs as he slides our panties off. Your breaths come in tattered and frayed bursts as he sheathes himself entirely inside your slick, sobbing sex with one smooth yet forceful thrust. Your nails dig harshly into the firm muscle of his bicep as you whimper, jaw dropping open in pure, blissful shock.

“H—Holy shit,” you yelp, your voice high-pitched and shaky as you squeeze your eyes shut, surrendering to his delicious torture.

With your legs twined tightly around his torso, you silently beg him to dive deeper. He obliges, rocking back and forth with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. “Take it, baby, you can fuckin’ take this cock,” he growls, his voice raw with lust as he slams into you with merciless pumps. “It was made for you, just for you-u.”

He flashes you a victorious grin, his eyes half-lidded and intense. He scrunches his cute nose with every thrust that drives his stiff length deeper into your core, his balls pulsing against your tender slit. He bites your bottom lip to muffle his own groans, his breathing slipping out in ragged gasps.

So hot. He’s so hot.

“Ahh, yes. Give it to me rough,” you beg, your legs tightening around him as your mewling grows stronger. 

“You sound so fucking pretty,” he pants. He nibbles and sucks on your lips before his tongue enters your mouth, tangling with yours in a tantalising assault. You whine as his thick girth slides out inch by inch until only the tip nestles teasingly inside you.

He’s fully pressed into you, his hot breath a mix of short and shuddering huffs against your neck. He pauses for a moment, burying his face in the crook of your neck, soaking in the scent of your skin as if trying to memorise every part of you. “I don’t wanna finish that soon,” he laughs breathlessly, fighting to keep control.

“You got me seeing stars, baby boy,” you whisper huskily, your words barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. Your lips brush against his ear, planting an affectionate peck that sends a tremor through his core. As he quickens his pace, his eyes roll back, his hands gripping firmly onto your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

He leans back, his abs flexing with each powerful pull of his chest and arm muscles as he slams back into you again. He’s so shredded, and you can’t help but skim a few teasing fingers down his chiselled pecs. So ripped, and you’re not missing the opportunity to trace a few veins that prod against your fingers. He gasps delightfully at your touch, his cock convulsing inside you, driven wild by the way the brief gape of your pussy grips him like a vice.

“Fuck, you’re like a glove on my dick,” he moans, his voice catching as he gazes down at the way your cunt hungrily swallows and slurps him deeper. The filthy, lewd sounds of your groans and bodies melting together skin-against-skin reverberate through the room, echoing your shared need.

Unable to utter a word without screaming, you bite down on his neck, leaving a dark purple bruise. “So good—cock feels so good in me. Fucking me just riiight,” you cry out against his lips. Your voice rises in pitch, the words dissolving into incoherent moans as your nails rake his back, leaving tiny red crescents in their wake.

He lets out a dark chuckle, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fixing onto yours with a feral intensity. “You’re markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” he grunts, squeezing your thighs with a possessive grasp, a crooked smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

You nod faintly, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. You’re trying to keep it together, you really are. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly strokes that delicate, spongy spot inside you turns your brain to utter mush. It leaves you no option but to spiral further into bliss and moan like a whore. 

Evan tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His voice is coated in a low rasp, the words gliding into your ears like a warm cuddle. His lips curl up in perverse satisfaction as he shoves three of his fingers into your mouth, eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

You hum around them, staring at him with a lustful challenge. You gargle around his large hand, jolting each time he rams into you, drool spilling from your chin down to your tits only to finally land on his lower stomach and dick.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Gotta let everyone know how good I’m fucking you?” he taunts, his tone a hoarse, sensual growl. His hips snap forward, and your body responds instinctively, every nerve lit up with pleasure. 

You keep on sucking on his fingers, your eyes hooded with desire, each swirl of your tongue around his digits drawing a ragged breath from him. With a soft thud, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he runs them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.

“Right, I need to take stricter measures, then,” he mutters, his voice like gravel, as he carries you to the bed, still buried deep inside you. You gasp at the sudden movement, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

He sets you down in the middle of the bed and gruffs, “Bend over f’me,” his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You barely have a moment to comply before your ass is met with a rude spank, forcing a sharp moan out of you and flipping you over on your chest. 

His voice is a deep rumble, and you feel yourself pulse between your legs every time he speaks in these rough low decibels. 

“Mhm, don’t get shy. Let’s see that arch again, baby girl…like the good slut you are,” he urges, and your face gets smashed right into the crimson coloured sheets, his fingertips softly caressing down your exposed spine and over your ass facing skywards, his touch both gentle and demanding. “Let’s see my favourite wet pussy, best piece of ass I’ve ever seen,” he growls, admiring the view.

“E-Evaann,” you drag out, your voice breaking as you suck in a shaky breath. It’s almost humiliating how much he makes your pussy clench and drip for him, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he's looking at you like that and goes to great lengths (no pun intended) to satisfy you.

He rubs his hand against the stinging part of your ass, soothing and igniting at once, before aligning his leaky tip with your entrance. Your cunt is soaked, practically begging for him, profusely sweltering hot with your own slippery slick. He licks his lips at the sight as he smacks his fat cock against your puffed folds, the sound wet and filthy. 

“Don’t tease me, p- please,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder at him as you balance on all fours, your voice barely a breath above a whimper.

He lets out a sinister throaty cackle as he leans down, staring at your dripping cunt before rubbing his fingertips right down between your slit. “Quiet, baby. I’ll fuckin’ tease you if I want,” and you moan, feeling the pad of his thumb smear the lustrous trail of cum near your hole and back down towards your clit. “I love hearing you beg,” he teases, but it’s short-lived as he slides the head of his cock inside you, stretching you inch by inch with delicious pleasure.

“My big boy, railing me so damn well,” you babble out as his thrusts become faster and harsher, your eyes widening once his lengthy dick hits against that perfect, sensitive spot so effortlessly. His sharp hips are so unapologetically mean, each snap of his body forcing you forward and back into him like a yo-yo he’s toying with.

He’s drilling into you at full speed, the headboard bashing against the wall in time with his thrusts. Your thighs jitter with ecstasy at just how nastily he’s using you, your needy walls biting around his shaft as he reels you back into his sculpted pelvis. You let out sweet sobs that fall on deaf ears as he practically splits you open each and every single time.

“D-don’t stop. F-f-fuck me, Evan. Right there, ‘s fuckin’ big,” you pant, your mouth hanging open, more spews of whines leaving you as he accelerates his hips ever further. The bed screams beneath you, each creak sounding like it’s about to give way, and you’re almost sure it’s going to break. “More, more… please,” you yelp as he thoroughly swivels inside you, wearing you thin.

“Shit, you feel.so.damm.good,” he growls, pumping even deeper with every word only to grab one of your wrists and restrain it behind your back. Your limbs grow knobbly as the heavy and thick base of his cock smacks against your ass. You’re dizzy, insanely so—your eyes rolling back and the wet hit of sounds of your desperate cunt fill the room, blending heavenly with your breathy mewling that matches his pace.

Docile dark irises meet yours as you look over your shoulder. Raw, guttural grunts die from the back of his throat as he allows you a moment to seize control, letting you rut back and forth, bouncing against his swollen, throbbing cockhead. The slanting curve in your back deepens, elevating the spectacle before him and inviting him to spank you again. You watch him bite his lip, his brows knitting together with ravenous desire as he throws his head back. Your name spills from his lips in a breathless mantra, and you reciprocate with endless whines. It’s your personal plea for more, for everything he has to give. 

“Fffffuck, keep going,” he hisses, peering down at the way your sobbing cunt fervently takes him in. “Such a good girl—fuck, wanting my cock,” he mumbles, and you feel a rippling wave of goose bumps running down his body as you walls tense around him.

Shivering breaths ghost down against your sweaty skin as his pace falters and weakens, humping into you with his mouth prying open, falling slack. A gasp wretches from his throat as the melting crown of his cock smacks up against your g-spot over and over until you’re seeing nothing but pure white.

With a cry, your orgasm crests and crashes over you, your folds convulsing with pure euphoria. You stretch upwards, and he seals your lips in a steamy kiss from above, consuming the sounds of your sweet release with affectionate back rubs and a victorious grin against your mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, your hips bucking and jerking as the violent aftershocks of your high wrack through you. Evan holds you tight, chasing his own climax.

“Who owns this little pussy?” he hisses through gritted teeth, hitting against your cervix a few times before shooting ropes of hot cum deep into your womb. It’s abundant and warm, your pussy continues to constrict and pulse around his length. He whimpers curses into your neck as he collapses against you, twitching and pouring generous amounts of himself into you.

Rough tides of overstimulation wash over you as Evan climbs on top of you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your mind is still foggy from riding out the seismic waves of your orgasm, but a nagging thought breaks through: you’re in someone else’s house, and you need to leave things as you found them.

“The sheets,” you gasp, gently pushing him off the bed. Baffled and out of breath, he observes with hooded eyes as you kneel down and begin to lick and suck the remaining creamy love from his spent cock.

“Oh God, Y/N,” he moans, his eyes widening in shock as his fingers tangle in your hair. “You’re killing me,” he whines, his voice a mix of pleasure and overstimulation. His lungs heave with each breath as you clean off the mass of cum he’s dumping into your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. Your mind swims in ecstasy from the adrenaline-fuelled, earth-shaking orgasm, and you moan against his shaft, the vibrations sending shivers through him.

The moment is pure, unfiltered bliss, and you’re lost in it—until the door suddenly flies open, banging against the wall.

“Evan!” a voice yelps. I look up in shock as Jeremy, another close friend of Evan’s, stands frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed and red-faced at the sight of us. His cheeks flushed crimson as he averts his gaze, embarrassed to have walked in on such an intimate moment.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he gasps, his voice cracking as he takes in the dishevelled scene before him. Evan, caught mid-stumble, face turning beet red, fumbles for his clothes, his stammers response coming out in a strangled mix of embarrassment and confusion.

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.”

Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

To be continued...

------------------------------------------------

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[jd07201990]

So… Does anyone know how many bouquets of roses, or how many boxes of chocolates it’ll take to survive my new Wife’s wrath, when she see’s her adorable, creative, intelligent boy… after I accidentally shipped him off to the equivalent of Football Boot-camp, so we could have our honeymoon alone in Cancun. Honestly! We were all going over the options, the two last resorts being we don’t go on our honeymoon, or Jason would have to stay at his grandpa’s house in the middle of nowhere a few states away. Clearly, we were desperate, so when I found the pamphlets for what looked like a regular old summer camp out in the woods, with a lake, and a whole slew of other activities, I jumped on it, especially since the price for the entire summer was $2100 bucks! Where I really screwed up, was not reading the pamphlet I was filling out, which was absolutely not the super happy fun time in the woods experience… It was ROTC for Football Jocks. I learned this only when I drove out to pick him up, 3 months later, and well… you can see what trudged up to me from across the parking lot, huge battered old sneakers pounding the pavement as he absentmindedly gnawed on a protein bar in his meaty, calloused fist, while his other hand absentmindedly adjusted his shorts. Just like all the other bulked up brutes marching off to their dads and coaches, his chest was bare, and bouncing with every step. When he’d crossed the distance, he grinned this dim, dopey grin, and grunted, “Thanks for pickin’ me up Dude. Can we stop by Wendy’s? I’m fuckin’ starving!” He punctuated this by stuffing the last of the protein bar in his mouth and yanking the door to my car open, the fiberglass handle cracked in his hand. He looked at the two halves, chuckled with that deep, rumbling Jock tone, and got in, dumping the pieces on the seat next to him. It didn’t take long for the car to fill the distinct funk of athletic prowess, especially when he kicked off his size 14’s and put his feet up on the dash. I nearly gagged, and despite the heat outside, rolled down the windows to air out. As we pulled into the driveway, my wife was on the lawn, waiting with a little bag, excited to see her boy again. When the sweaty ape of a jock got out lumbered up to her, wrapping his beefy arms around her, she looked terrified… for a second… then her eyes narrowed on me. When Jason finally let go of her, he gave her that same, blank, dopey grin, all the intelligence gone from his big wide eyes, and held his fist out… she looked at it incredulously, and he chuckled, “You’re supposed to bump it, Ma… with your fist” Well, the last 6 months have been tough, but Jason, or, “Jay” as he reminds us often, has absolutely blossomed at school. Although his grades could be better. The shock of his summer “glo-up” or as his oafish, grunting new friends like to tease, “blow-up” hit a few of the teachers harder than others. Although the Coach of the football team had nearly offered me his ’69 Camero to have Jason on the team after seeing him plow through reps in the football team’s gym.  I said it was tough, because our house is essentially a second Locker Room for Jay and his small army of sweating, smelly behemoths. There is a never-ending pile of laundry from countless practices, the gym, and just hanging out with his friends. My wife has somewhat gotten used to her little boy calling her, “Bro” accidentally… every other day… and despite the change, he’s still her boy, there’s just, a good bit more of him to love. I will say, he’s a great kid, kind of dumb, a bit crass, and stinks like a gym bag more often than not, but when you dig a bit deeper into those dim, wide eyes, there’s still that adorable boy, underneath a pile of muscle.

[flowercrownsandherondales]

Could I perhaps suggest a tiny little itty bitty blurb between Wyatt, Wiley, and reader pretty please? *I bat my eyelashes politely* Your writing is amazing btw!!!

This one actually tore my heart out. I love Haymitch so so much, but WILEY AND WYATT OH BE STILL MY HEART. Also I love writing a little blurb like this so if anyone wants to see more plz feel free to ask!!

I watched from the kitchen as Wiley played with the tiny wooden truck I’d gotten from the Hob. Ma was sleeping in the back bedroom, she’d been taking sleeping syrup more and more and spent most of the day passed out in bed. In one of her more coherent moments she’d scolded me for still letting him play with toys, going on about how 6 years old should be helping out around the house more. I’d rolled my eyes and ignored her. 

Moments like these kept me frozen, mind moving in directions I’d rather not wander towards. Wiley had begged me to turn on the record player, picking out something soft to surround us while I made dinner. The faint voice of the singer, the sounds of Wiley giggling as he pushed the car around his feet, and the crackling of the stove fought to drown out my thoughts. 

The noise never did. 

Sometimes I could see the life I had hoped for, grieved over, so easily. 

Wyatt squatted down next to Wiley, one hand on his knee while the other pointed to the car. 

“I bet I can get some paint from the Hob. What color do ‘ya want it to be, Wiles?” He asked, a grin on his face as his look-a-like flashed him a matching smile, with a few teeth missing, of course. 

“Can we do green, daddy?” My baby begged, wide eyes watching carefully as Wyatt pretended to ponder it. I shook my head, about to go back to chopping up some carrots for our stew. 

“What do you think of green, darlin’?” he called to me, eyes sparkling with adoration. I couldn’t help a giggle and a grin, setting my hands on my hip and leaning against the table. 

“I think green is a wonderful color, but if you asked me, I think a nice earthy brown would be better.” I knew Wyatt would have an easier time finding brown than green. Better not to get Wiley’s hopes up. 

Wiley pouted, getting the same look Wyatt just had moments ago, pondering if that really would look better than green. 

“Mama, why would we make my car the color of dirt?” He asked innocently, his big eyes peering into mine full of suspicion. Wyatt let out a gruff laugh under his breath, his hand moving to ruffle Wiley’s hair. 

“We’ll have to think about it more after dinner. Mama’s stew smells pretty good, doesn’t it?” I gave Wyatt a thankful look, finally turning around and adding the carrots. 

I felt large hands come up behind me, pulling me towards a firm chest. Wyatt spread kisses to my neck, smiling shyly into me. No matter how old he got, he was still the shy, awkward boy he’d been in his youth. 

“Smell good darlin’. Always takin’ such good care of us.” I fought back a blush at his words, rapidly losing as red took over my cheeks. 

“Your dad offered to take Wiley this Saturday” I muttered, feeling his shit eating grin get wider at my implication. His grip tightened around my hips, spinning me around abruptly and cupping my face in his hands. 

I let out a breathless laugh at his antics, any protests about dinner falling flat at the way he looked at me. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” He breathed. I furrowed my brows. 

“For what? Making dinner?” He shook his head, chuckling at my question before becoming serious again. 

“For all of this. I didn’t think I’d have this, thought I’d spend the rest of my life with everyone looking down on me, working for my dad. You gave me something else, a whole new life with our boy. The odds of this happening for me were slim, trust me, I know,  and somehow you just came in and wiped the board clean. I never thought I’d love anything as much as I love you and our baby.” He said, voice raw and so honest it made me want to cry. I brought his hand up to my lips, leaving kisses on his palm as he closed his eyes. 

“Eww.”  Wiley’s voice cut through, sticking out his tongue at his father and I. Wyatt opened his eyes, looking into mine before we erupted into laughs. I peeked over his shoulder, my little boy standing with his hands on his hips, face scrunched up in disgust. 

“Aw, get on over here baby.” I said, a smile playing on my face as I made a grabby hand at him. He shook his head, looking away from us as he crossed his arms. 

Wyatt broke from me, taking two steps over before Wiley knew what was happening, swinging our boy over his shoulder as Wiley protested. I swept behind Wyatt, taking Wiley’s face in my hands and spreading quick kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. 

His little protests and frown turned into a fit of giggles, feet kicking, “mama it tickles!” he yelped. 

“Did you mean to say, mama more kisses?” Wyatt asked innocently, turning his head and blowing a raspberry into Wiley’s side, causing laughs to turn hysterical in our sweet little boy. 

I let him breathe for a minute, Wyatt using the chance to pull me into his side as he still held Wiley like a sack of potatoes. He placed a loving kiss on both of our temples, breathing in the moment. 

“What are the odds we can catch fireflies when it gets dark, daddy?” Wiley asked. He loved to ask “what are the odds” before every question, Jethro explaining once what Wyatt used to do, oddsmaking now becoming our boys new obsession. 

Wyatt grinned, looking to me for approval. I rolled my eyes and nodded, never being able to say no to my boys. 

“I’d say pretty good. Even better if you eat all your dinner.” He poked him, causing even more giggles. 

I smiled at my boys, identical in almost every way, utter and completely mine to love and spoil. Both looked at me, matching grins as I poured soup into each of their bowls and motioned for them to sit at the table. 

“What do we say, Wiles?” Wyatt nudged him, Wiley thinking for a minute. 

“Thank you mama!” He exclaimed. Wyatt just nodded and raised an eyebrow. 

“And?” I rolled my eyes at him, picking up my spoon.

“I love you, mama.” My heart melted in my chest at my sweet little boy. Before I got the chance to respond, Wiley asked his father the same question. 

“Daddy, you gotta say it too!” 

Wyatt took a breath, whispering something that sounded like ‘course I do before looking me in the eyes again. 

“Thank you darlin’. I love you.” 

I gave both my boys a big smile, leaning closer to them. 

“Love you both. More than anything.” 

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 13

Hello!!! We are back for another lovely chapter of this fic. It's still going strong and I have hit Act 3. I don't know how many chapters of that there will be, but I'm to the happy parts of the story. So yay!!!

In this we find out who our little elf is, and Steve makes an instant friend. Then he tries sushi with disastrous results.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Pt 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

Steve watched as she turned in slow motion and her eyes go wide. She then threw her hands over her eyes.

“I’m sorry to disturb you!” she shrieked. “Please put your shirt back on!”

He huffed out a laugh and then went over to the dresser and pulled out a old t-shirt. “There, I’m all dressed. Now tell me who you are.”

“I’m Robin Buckley!” she squeaked. “I’m sixteen and about to enter my senior year of high school, my Uncle Justin got me the job as a PA for the band Corroded Coffin, but my mom was worried about the band taking advantage of me, so she insisted I stay in Hawkins. Which worked out great because I got the task of sneaking stuff in your hotel room, which is also great because I’m super stealthy!”

Steve smiled, immediately taking a liking to her. “Wow that was a lot. Nice to finally put a name and a face to the person who keeps sneaking into my room while I’m showering.”

Robin blinked for a minute before she realized the implication of that. “Oh shit! You must have thought I was a creep or something. God, I’m so sorry!”

“Something like that,” Steve said, tilting his head and chuckling. “But now that I’ve met you, it’ll be easier to drop stuff off whenever and not have to wait for me to be gone or out of the main room.”

“You don’t mind that I can just walk in?” she asked in confusion.

Steve shrugged. “The cleaning staff do it all the time. Unless I put out the tag that says do not disturb, they just come in to do their job. That’s how I made friends with Carla and Juan. They’re teaching me Spanish!”

Robin blinked at him for a moment. “You’re learning Spanish from the cleaning crew?”

He walked up and flopped on the sofa, kicking his feet up. “Juan is teaching me all the swear words first.”

“Wow,” she said, sinking into a nearby chair. “Don’t you have other friends that come see you?”

Steve shook his head. “All my friends abandoned me when my dad caught me and my boyfriend on the sofa making out. I can’t tell anyone else where I am because my dad could find me and beat the shit out of me for not leaving town like he wanted.”

“Wait...” Robin said, “Are you Steve Harrington?”

He reared his head back in confusion. “I mean yeah, weren’t you told who I was?”

She got up and pushed his feet to the floor to sit on the sofa next to him. “Holy shit, dude. No one knows where you’ve been. There have rumors about you still being seen around town, but your like a local cryptid or some shit. All anyone knows is that you’ve been laying low.”

Steve sat up straight. “Wait, really?” He burst out laughing. “I guess being registered at the hotel as Steve Munson is really doing its job.”

“Yeah,” Robin said enthusiastically, “even my mom thinks your his cousin. She’s been broadly hinting that I should accidentally meet you so you can date me.” She snorted. “Which even if you weren’t over eighteen, sorry you’re not my type.”

“Yeah, what is your type?” Steve asked. Robin pursed her lips and looked up. “Come on, who am I going to tell? Eddie and the band are about to be out of communication because they’re traveling out of country.”

“Girls.”

He snorted and then snapped his mouth shut. “Sorry. Um...like I just told you I was caught with my boyfriend and you were worried about telling me you like girls?”

She blinked at him for a moment and then gave a snort of her own. “Oops!”

Steve shook his head. “Hopeless. Just a couple of baby gays in the most backwater town in the whole fucking state. At least you can tell your mom that you’re not my type.”

“That’s true,” Robin said cocking her head to the side. “She didn’t want me traveling with the band because she was afraid that they would prey on a teenage girl. Like I feel like I would be safer with them then some stranger in a hotel room, but...” she shrugged.

“Mom logic,” Steve said, nodding, “can’t argue with it and can’t make it make sense either.”

Robin threw her arms in the air. “Exactly!” She looked around the room and spotted the presents she was supposed to have leaving for him.

“The presents!”

“The shower!” Steve shouted at the same time and they both went running. Steve to the bathroom to turn of the water and Robin to grab the boxes from the sidebar.

They met back in the middle. Robin shoved the boxes at him.

“I want to know what’s in them,” she said brazenly. “I’m not allowed to peek and I really want to know about everything Eddie Munson is sending you.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “It could be sex toys you know. Are you sure you want to see what’s in here?”

“Yes!” she huffed and smacked his arm. “Now open it!”

Steve opened the first box and inside was a beautiful yellow floor length robe with a note that said, ‘For that hot divorceé look!’

Robin raised an eyebrow at him. “Care to explain that one?”

“I was feeling down a couple of days ago because I was bored,” Steve explained trying not to laugh, “I said I felt like a divorceé who had taken her husband to the cleaners, but now was only left with riches and no company.”

She looked around the fancy hotel room like she was properly seeing it for the first time. She took in all the brass fittings, black marble, and leather furniture. It was pretty, but it was very much not a place someone lived in, only visited.

She couldn’t imagine staying here for as long as Steve had been here. “Oh.”

Steve shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with her pity. So he opened the other present. It was a much smaller box, he had wanted to open the big one first because he guessed it was probably clothes.

Inside was small golden music box that when he opened it it had a little yellow bird singing “Birdhouse in Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants. Only blue canary was swapped for yellow, mangling the song a little, but Steve was touched.

“What is with all the yellow stuff especially the yellow birds?” Robin asked as he handed it to her. She had spotted a lot of them as she looked around the room.

Steve laughed and told her about how he met Eddie, highlighting especially the part about wearing yellow in the middle of a metal concert.

“Oh my god!” Robin said roaring with laughter, “I think I would have shriveled up and died of sheer embarrassment if that was me.”

“That would assume I had any dignity at that point,” Steve pointed out. “My dad had tossed me out, I lost my job, and all my friends. If there were better places to get drunk in this god forsaken town, I would have gone there.”

“Have you tried getting another job?” she asked, tilting her head the side. “Like they can’t all be afraid of your dad.”

He just shrugged. “I guess I never thought about it, really. Just been trying to keep away from him.”

“But he’s been out of town for a couple of weeks, right?” Robin pressed. “Do you really think he’s going to come back and hound you just for trying to get a job?”

Steve shrugged again. “You don’t know my dad. His colleagues call him Mad Dog because he’s as tenacious as a bulldog and twice as mean. If he gets it into his head that I must be ran out of town, he’s going to do whatever he can to make it happen. He only left town because Chief Hopper stonewalled him.”

Robin wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything.

Steve showed her all the other presents Eddie had gotten him and she was delighted with each one. But especially the necklace.

“Well now there are two birds in this cuckoo nest,” Robin said proudly. “Robin and Canary.” She held out her hand and Steve took it with a smile.

“So does this mean you won’t be sneaking around my hotel room from now on?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

She burst out laughing. “I might do a little sneaking for old times sake, but yeah. I’ll make sure to announce my presence from now on.”

“Good,” Steve said with a huff. “Get out of here so I can shower.”

She laughingly did as she was told, Steve shaking his head the whole time.

~

After Steve got out of his shower and bathrobe secured tightly at his waist, he sat down with the want ads. He had long since gotten a subscription to the newspaper for the movie times and funny pages. But now he could use it to see if anyone was hiring.

Because as much of a loud mouth asshole, Tommy had been, he had a point. He couldn’t just sit around and wait to be be rescued by Eddie. There was no guarantee that Eddie would continue to fund Steve’s life style after the band returned from their tour.

He flopped on the bed with a red pen and the newspaper open in front of him. He scoffed when he saw that Family Video was still looking to replace him, even though it had been six weeks since they fired him.

He really didn’t know how to do much. His main jobs had been being a lifeguard at the rec center and the Family Video job his dad forced him to take so that he could ‘learn how to be productive in society’ or whatever bullshit he had spouted at the time.

So he immediately disregarded anything that required typing or phone skills. With it being summer again, he could probably get his old job back at the rec center but then he would most certainly run afoul more Hank Tippets of the world. Which would be more trouble than it was worth.

There was the new mall.

Maybe he could find work there. He circled a couple of other places but decided his best bet would be the mall. He threw the newspaper aside and rolled over on his back.

He was hungry and tired and just wanted to forget about everything for awhile. So he got up and ordered food. This time was going for something different. Sushi. If he didn’t like it he could always order something else.

Steve needed to try other things and if it wasn’t on his dime or his parents forcing him to try it, why not? He couldn’t do raw oysters. But that was probably because he was six at the time and his mother forced him to try it.

Never doing that again.

He also ordered an appetizer just to double hedge his bets. He knew from the description that it was raw fish and rice. He wasn’t going into this completely blind.

The sushi arrived with his weird side of garlic mashed potatoes. Sue him, the potatoes were his comfort food. They were almost as good as the ones as his Auntie Sophie made. The recipe his mother would kill to get her hands on. And probably tried.

Look, he tried. He tried them with the brown liquid-y stuff, the red paste, and green goo. The green goo made his mouth burn like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. If he hadn’t tried the red paste first, he would have assumed it was all that bad.

So he tossed the rest of the sushi back on the trolley and begged for them to take it away and replace it with ice cream. Anything to stop the burning.

Eddie tried to be sympathetic when Steve told him that night, but Steve could tell the other man was trying so hard not to laugh.

Never again.

~

Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

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2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[stars4gojo]

Let the Light in

Dad!Gojo x fem!reader // mentions of arguments & fights, angst, fluff // 947 words // gradeschool!Megumi

Gojo is used to people leaving him he believes when you die you die alone so it comes as a shock when you stay.

More of my work 🤍

You silently sit and stare at the boy across your dinner table - unable to find the right words. To say that you’re mad is an understatement, Satoru is late again, and your 7-year-old boy got into another fight. You impatiently tap your foot, wrapping your arms around your chest while Megumi eats up his sandwich.

The door suddenly opens and Gojo walks in, a box of cake in his hand and a big cheeky smile on his face.

You sigh exasperatedly as you turn to your clock and then to him, “Do you know how late you are Satoru? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour now.” You speak sternly.

“I’m sorry princess but I had to buy this little celebratory cake, Megumi did win his first fight.” Gojo replied as your eyes twitched in irritation.

“So, champ did you tuck your thumb in every punch.” Gojo bended down to Megumi as he patted his head.

“He used cursed energy to beat up 4 sixth graders.” You deadpanned before Megumi could say anything.

Gojo got up as his mouth dropped agape.

“You should’ve said so! I would’ve bought some party streamers with the cake.” Gojo replied as he snorted at his joke.

“Satoru this is serious, our 7-year-old child is beating up sixth graders with cursed energy - it could lead to big and i mean big injuries.” You frowned as you saw Megumi put his head down in shame.

“You understand what you did wrong right Gumi?” You added as he nodded shyly.

“I’m sorry” he replied curtly.

“Promise you won’t do it again” you spoke as you held out your pinky that he gladly accepted with a small smile.

“Thank you, now go to your room.” You said as his small figure dragged his feet to his room.

You knew that you would speak to him again privately about the situation but for now you had to deal with your man child of a boyfriend.

Now you turn towards Gojo who’s still standing there with little to no interest in the conversation.

“Toru what was that about? You can’t be congratulating or be excited for him when he’s getting into fights - you cannot encourage this behaviour.” You started speaking as your eyebrows squeezed in disappointment.

“Look y/n he is my child on papers so I think I can decide what to do.” He replied putting emphasis on the word “my”.

Your mouth fell slightly in shock as your eyebrow raised.

“No- no that’s not what I meant” He quickly added but the damage was already done.

“Okay Satoru, since Megumi is your child and he has absolutely nothing to do with me, I’ll be taking my leave.” You said as tears slowly formed in your eyes.

“Wha- that’s not what I me- where will you even go?” He asked hurriedly - now he’s worrying.

“That’s none of your business.” You spoke while grabbing your bag.

And just like that you were out the door.

-

It’s been 6 hours since you left, Gojo finished giving Megumi and Tsumiki their dinner (he ordered in McDonald’s) and even tucked them into bed - giving them little reassurances that you’re gone to Aunty Shoko’s house for a sleepover. But your two children were clever, they knew something was up, the little screaming match was not left unheard and Gojo’s worried glances towards his phone were not left unnoticed. But they also knew better than to question your love for them they knew you were different than biological parents - they trusted you completely to return.

Gojo flopped on the couch as he stared up at the ceiling, he sighed exhaustedly as it finally hit him - you had left.

He tried calling every number of every person you could possibly stay with, the only person who hadn’t picked up was Shoko no matter how many times he called so he assumed you were with her.

The silence slowly engulfs him as he looks back on the moment, he thinks to himself why he would ever say that. When he adopted Megumi and Tsumiki you two had promised each other that you were in this together. This silence grows by every second and he thinks he’s used to it - the same silence was there when his grandmother had passed, when he left geto to die and now it’s back to taunt him after you left.

His train of thoughts is stopped when he hears the door lock click, he turns his head comically fast to see you standing there giving him a tight-lipped smile.

He runs up to you as he takes you in his arms; not giving you any time to react.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry you know I didn’t mean that right?” He spoke quickly as if you were going to disappear any second now.

“I love you so much and it was so wrong for me to even think that you’re any less of a parent to them.” He added as you let go of his embrace.

“I’m sorry Toru I shouldn’t have left, you’re right I’m not any less of a parent and it really hurt me to hear you say it.” You spoke with a slight frown still apparent on your lips.

“I know I know I promise I’ll never ever say that again so please don’t ever leave us to go to Shokos again.” He replied with a pout as you giggled in response.

“Alright your big baby, let’s get to bed?” You added as you grabbed his arms to interlock with yours and headed to bed where he would cuddle you all night.

'Cause I like to love, to love, to love, to love you I hate to hate, to hate, to hate, to hate you

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.4

A/n: I think there will be another part after this before the show starts and they will be getting together! I'm currently going through episode by episode and pulling out all the scenes I want to be a part of this. No promises that this won't get abandoned or take forever to write but I do have a mental endgame for it in s5!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 871

Previous part - Next part

---

The peace of a still sleeping bunkhouse was disturbed by Rip rushing in and the loud bang of the door against the wall.  

“Lloyd, have you seen y/n?  She didn’t answer the door and the trailer’s locked,” he asked hurriedly scanning the bunkhouse, “Ryan why the fuck are you on the couch?”

Rip looked at the hand under the blankets and connected dots as Lloyd stirred from his own bunk to ask what was going on.  The foreman stormed into the other room to find exactly what he expected, y/n just waking up in Ryan’s bunk.  She rolled over and looked over up at him confused.

Y/n pulled herself up in the bed, “why are you shouting at 4 in the fuckin’ morning Rip?”

In lieu of an answer, he turned back around to where Ryan was waking up and hauled him to his feet to shove against the wall.  Suddenly everyone in the bunkhouse was awake and aware of what was going on.  They all surrounded the pair but nobody was about to get in the middle of whatever was going on, except y/n who was being kept from getting in between them by Jake.

“What the fuck is she doing in your bunk,” he growled.

Y/n shook Jake off her, “the hell Rip!  There’s no heat in the trailer and I was freezing my ass off in the barn so he insisted I come in here.  Stop being such an overprotective asshole!”

“If you even think about laying a finger on her in any capacity I’ll have them,” Rip threatened before releasing him and turned to the rest of them, “that goes for every one of you fuckers.  She’s off limits.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and headed out of the bunkhouse leaving the crew speechless.  Y/n turned to Ryan and checked that he was okay before storming after the foreman.

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing Rip!” She yelled at him, “you have no right to do that.”

Rip turned to glare at her, “he’s taking advantage of you.”

“Oh give me a break.  He was being a gentlemen which is more than can be said for most people in there.  I’m not a little girl that needs your protection anymore.  I can make my own decisions and I’m big enough to own my mistakes and Ryan certainly wouldn’t be one.  But I don’t think you need to worry, I’m hardly his first pick,” she finished bitterly.

Y/n went back to the bunkhouse in search of coffee, leaving Rip to wonder what on earth she had meant.

-/-/-

A few years later (like 6 months before the show starts)

After a long day of working the cattle for the spring gather, everyone from the valley was settled around the corral enjoying Gator’s cooking and each other’s company.  Y/n was sat to the side of the crowd having finished her food, just taking in the atmosphere of her favourite day of the year.  Gentle country music filled the air from a speaker Jamie had set up by the grill and some of the hands were showing kids how to rope on the dummy steer.  A smile graced her face as she watched Ryan and one of the newer hands, Colby who had become fast friends with him, helping a young girl swing the lasso above her head.

John watched his daughter from his seat next to Lee and how at peace she seemed with her life back on the ranch.  He picked up his beer and went to join her on the straw bale she’d claimed.  Y/n smiled at her father sat next to her before turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, a significant improvement on how they’d been when she returned years ago.

“I think it’s time that we have our annual conversation,” John started, “even if nothing has changed.”

She took her eyes off the wranglers to look at her dad, “everything and nothing has changed dad.  I belong here again.  I finally feel like I’m part of it again.  But Kayce still isn’t here and I don’t see that ever changing.  I love you but you’re a stubborn man and lord knows my brother is too.”

“You set the terms but being back under the roof is where you belong,” he pushed.

Y/n allowed the silence to envelop them again as she thought through what was being put in front of her.  The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the valley.  The wranglers had left the kids to the roping in favour of beers by the fence and Ryan winked when they made eye contact.  

“I’ll come back,” she relented, “but you don’t get a say over what I do and when I’m there.  I’m still gonna spend time at the bunkhouse because at the end of the day I’m a wrangler and those are my friends.  It took long enough for them to see me as more than just your daughter and I don’t want them to see me differently again.”

John smiled at her, “I’m just happy you’ll be truly home.”