#and then takes the mic down and hands it to them for a minute

[chris-hallelujah]

Have You Ever Tried This One? pt. 2 | m.s.

Part One Here!

Warnings: foul language, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.8k words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzsblog @nickgurl4life

Enter my giveaway!! (closes 11/15)

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one! I was not expecting it to get the attention it did. Thank you again @delilahsturniolo for the inspo and letting me make your idea my own. I'm sorry if it feels rushed -- I knew you all were waiting for this so I tried to hurry!!

<3 - Billie

The lights in the arena darkened and you disappeared from the view of the crowd's view. "Goodnight Boston, I'll see you soon!" You called into the mic before handing it off to someone on stage crew. Your manager handed you a water bottle which you gladly took. Making your way back to your dressing room, she fussed over your hair and outfit.

"There are a few journalists who want to speak with you and those boys you invited backstage," she said powdering your face. You waved her off.

"I just got done with a concert, they can deal with a little bit of imperfection," you laughed walking out of your dressing room. In the lobby area backstage you saw the triplets with Chris' girlfriend standing against a wall. You waved at them to acknowledge them quickly before you had to deal with the few journalists. After about 10 minutes of interviews and answering questions, you were finally free. You sauntered over to the group with a smile. "Hi! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting! I'm Billie, it is so nice to meet you all," You exclaimed shaking each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Your hand lingered connected to Matt's for a few seconds longer than the others. He was quiet, shy as you all conversed. Chris and Nick did most of the talking. "I've seen some of your videos. You guys are hilarious," you smiled looking across all of them but then locking eyes with Matt.

"Y-you've seen our videos?" he asked surprised, earning a nod from you.

"I have and I'm really honored you all came tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show." You all chatted for a bit before your manager passed by giving you a look to wrap it up. "It was great to get to meet you all. And, Matt, if you're up for it, I'd love to chat more." You flashed him a confident smile and handed him a paper with your number on it. He took it with a shaky hand, staring at it wide eyed.

"Yea, no, that - yea sounds good," he blurt out earning a laugh from his brothers.

"You might have broke him," Nick teased.

After you all parted ways you made your way back to your hotel room. The hot shower water ran down your body as you felt your muscles relax. The plush bathrobe hugged your body as you climbed out of the shower and, as if on cue, your phone buzzed.

Hey, you put on a great show tonight. Thanks for the handcuffs. Now I just need to put them to use ;)

You're too sweet and a bit more bold when your brothers aren't around to tease you

They're a piece of work lol when can I see you again?

I'm at the four seasons room 311

Matt stared at his phone in shock. He never would have expected you to just give him the information for your hotel room. He quietly snuck out of his bedroom, not wanting to have to deal with telling Nick and Chris that he was going to see you.

You quickly freshened up, enough to look cute but not too much that you looked desperate. About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your hotel room door. Matt's face greeted you as you opened it. He was leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. You could already tell that he was a different Matt than you'd met earlier. "Hey, pretty girl," he spoke smoothly.

A slight blush crept your cheeks as you moved aside to let him in. You took in his all black outfit, noting how nice it looked on him. "Hi Matt," you smiled. Matt looked around, taking in the fancy hotel suite you were in.

"Nice place you got here. All of your tour stops this fancy?" he asked sitting down on the sofa.

You laughed a bit, "I try and make them feel like home a bit. Traveling so much can be exhausting and it's nice to come back to a hotel room that has all that I need in it." Shuffling through the mini fridge, you pulled out some wine. "You want some?" He nodded leading you to pour two glasses. You took a spot next to him on the sofa, not leaving much room between you, but enough for it to not be awkward. "So, tell me about you. What do I need to know about Matt Sturniolo?" you asked.

He took a sip of the wine before turning fully to face you, "Well, as you know I'm a triplet. I'm the middle one. We've been doing YouTube since-"

You cut him off shaking your head. "I don't want to know about your brothers. Tell me about you." This caused Matt's head to spin. He wasn't used to people only wanting to learn about him. People always loved Chris for his looks and Nick for his humor, but sometimes Matt felt swept under the rug. ((I'm crying writing this))

A smile on his face, he took a different approach, "Okay well, I really like nature. I feel so at peace when I'm outside. I also used to be really into reading. Fell outta that for a while, but I'm starting to pick it up again." The two of you chatted getting to know each other and finishing the bottle of wine quicker than either of you had planned.

It had been an hour of just drinking and talking and before you knew it your legs were draped over his lap, hands in his hair. He had his lips attached to yours as he held your hips. You weren't quite sure how you got there, but you weren't complaining. Matt pulled away slightly, earning a whine from you. Both of you breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against yours. "You sure about this, miss popstar?" he said, teasing you slightly. You giggled and nodded, placing your lips on his neck. He groaned, tilting his head back to give you more access. You trailed down his jawline, then his neck, and to his collarbone leaving bites and kisses in your path. A flash of pink covered your eyes as Matt tugged your shirt off over your head and tossed it to meet his on the floor. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. Something caught your eye, peeking out of his back pocket. Something pink. With fur? Oh my god.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you tugged the fuzzy pink handcuffs you had gifted him at the concert out of his back pocket. "I see you wanted to break in your gift," you smirked, twirling them on your finger. He chuckled snatching them from you and tossing them to the side.

"Don't worry, pretty girl, they'll get used soon," he winked. His pants hit the floor and your eyes trailed down his body. Before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees in front of him. "Such a good girl. Didn't even have to tell you," he smirked. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length causing him to hiss slightly. As your lips enclosed around his tip, his hand found home in your hair. Your tongue swirled around him slowly before you closed the distance between your lips and his groin. He groaned loudly as you took him in deeper. Impulsively, his hand pushed your head further, causing a choking noise to leave you. "Shhh, you got it, princess. Doin' - ah - doing so well," he moaned as your head bobbed. As you moved your head back and forth, your hand covered what didn't fit in your mouth. It did not take long for Matt's hand to coerce you a bit more forcefully as you noticed his body tense up. "Oh fuck, keep goin," he moaned. A few more pumps later you felt his load shoot into your mouth as he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. You pulled off of him with a slight 'pop' and sat with a satisfied grin on your face. He let out a deep breath before looking down at you.

Next thing you knew, your back hit the mattress and Matt hovered over you. "Better wipe that smirk off that pretty little face," he chuckled. To your right you heard the sound of metal clinking. Matt's hand gathered your small wrist and cuffed you to the bed. You looked up at the handcuffs and back at him whimpering slightly. Your arms wiggled causing the metal to clank against the headboard. "What? Can't handle what you dish out?" he smirked and trailed kisses down your torso. When he reached your underwear, his eyes met yours again for approval. As you nodded, he discarded your thong onto the floor. Your hips twitched in anticipation as you felt his breath on your core. The wide grin on his face was undeniable as he watched you already writhing beneath him. "So sensitive," he chuckled tracing circles on your thigh, "barely even touched you yet."

"Matty, please," you whined. He ended your suffering licking a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted at the contact and you gasped loudly. He quickly shoved your hips back down to the bed and held them there with his hands, probably leaving bruises that would show tomorrow. Matt explored you with his tongue, taking note on what made your legs shake. As his tongue circled your clit, he felt your hips try to raise against his hands. "Oh! Matt fuck" you moaned loudly. He smiled against you knowing he figured out your weakness. He continued to work your bundle of nerves until you were a writhing, moaning mess underneath him. The noise of the handcuffs fighting the headboard earned a laugh from Matt's mouth that vibrated against you. Your body tensed as your climax built up. He slipped a finger into you, thrusting quickly as his tongue danced against your clit. You felt pleasure take over your body. "Matt - my god! Don't stop!" you cried out. He continued to ride out your orgasm until your body relaxed and you panted against the bed. He carefully removed his fingers from you and crawled up to meet your eyes. Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tasting yourself as you licked them clean. He removed his fingers from your mouth and unlocked the handcuffs.

A soft kiss landed on your forehead as he pulled his t shirt over your head. You smiled climbing under the covers. Pulling his boxers back on before he climbed into bed with you. The night was spent wrapped in each others' arms.

The morning light showed through the curtains as you woke. After cuddling up to Matt for a few more minutes, you reached for your phone. Your eyes widened as you saw messages from your manager. Attached was an article titled, "YouTube Triplet Seen at Pop Star's Hotel." You knew this was not going to end well with your publicity team but, boy, was it worth it.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Russ Ballard - Live in Munich

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[pearlzier]

𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀sleepy gf quiet gamer bf, smut⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

"that's it, baby, that's it, there we go, that's my girl," matt groans softly as you sink down onto his cock, the soft, wet squelching sound making his thighs tense faintly beneath you. he almost whimpers at the sight of you so blissed out, so sleepy but needy for him to fuck you. you'd woken up minutes before, soaked with need. he was surprised, to realise how wet you were, all because of him. but he was on call with his friends, so the two of you needed to be quiet.

being quiet was most definitely not your thing.

you were characteristically loud when in bed with matt. it wasn't your fault, necessarily. matt made you see fucking stars. so the blame for your borderline pornographic moans couldn't be placed solely on you. it was as much matt's fault as it was yours. as much as matt loved your pretty sounds, he also didn't want his friends overhearing the two of you when he was supposed to be focused on winning.

"gotta be quiet, ma," matt grunts, realising his friends are getting a little suspicious of how long his mic had been turned off. he would've kept it off the whole time so he could fuck your tight little hole as much as he wanted to, as much as the two of you wanted, but still. "don't want them to hear you, do you? hear how good you feel when i fuck you, huh?" you shake your head, to respond, but also to try shake away some of your drowsiness.

"don't want them to hear me," you agree quietly, slowly grinding your hips as you simultaneously shimmied a little more out of your fluffy pajama bottoms, the soft material brushing against matt's thighs causing him to groan a little bit. "gonna turn my mic back on, okay? gotta stay quiet for me." he turns it on, as promised, and he laughs at his friend's responses, giving you a quick look in the process.

you had to be quiet, because matt wouldn't be happy if you weren't. you knew what he was like when that happened, he was so unfair. your hands grasp at his shirt a little, as you shift your weight, and quiet little sounds slip past his lips at the way you move. he'd call you a tease if he didn't know how sleepy you were. no way you'd tease him in a state like this. his half-lidded blue eyes flutter over you and he smirks to himself, his hands preoccupied with the controller as he played.

it was up to you to get off, the look in his eyes told you. matt was busy with his game. he couldn't bounce you on his dick like he usually would, or hold you down so you could grind, no, you had to use your pretty head and think for yourself without his help for once. so cruel of him. you were the one who came to him all needy and horny in the first place, after all.

"mmh," you whine pathetically, under your breath, just quiet enough so matt's mic won't pick it up. he laughs at you, chuckles at how needy you are, mumbling under his breath, "go on then, baby, i can't help you." he's so mean, you think to yourself, as you try to lift your hips up and down on him. a low grunt slips past his lips, your walls gliding up and down on him.

"you're so mean," you huff out, trying to gain a momentum. you're so tired, as are your thighs, so moving is practically impossible. matt watches you for a moment, the impossibly slow pace you're setting making arousal coil in his stomach. he can barely stay quiet, grunts escaping him occasionally. "i ain't mean, baby, jus' busy." he was being unfair and he knew it.

this goes on for another fifteen minutes or so. you leaking on his dick, making a mess, unable to chase that releass you so dearly crave.

all while he laughs and jokes with his friends about a round of a game you honestly couldn't give two shits about.

eventually, he feels the tiniest shred of mercy. matt notices how sleepy you are and the way you're about to fall asleep with him inside, and he takes pity on you, deciding on finding a way to wrap up his gaming session with his boys. "s'gettin' late and i gotta do some shit in the mornin', but i'll catch up with you guys soon, aight?" his friends grumble agreements, a little disappointed as to their standards it wasn't even that late.

arguably 3am was late, but okay.

you don't start whining and whinging until you're absolutely sure his friends are gone, and it's like a dam's been broken the moment you are. "matt, please," you beg, "please, please.. wanna.. touch me, please," it's pathetic and whiny and you're absolutely not ashamed because he'd been a total dickhead in not helping you and now you just wanted to come. was that so bad?

"so needy, sweetheart.." matt mutters, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in the gaming chair, watching how you look, sat on him like that. his hands glide over your body, and you mewl at the touch, back arching instinctively. the way your tight walls squeeze him when your back arches urges him to finally give in and give you what you want, his hands sliding down to your hips. "just needed my attention, thought so," he starts slowly grinding his hips, bucking up into you in gentle motions. you let out soft gasps, pretty noises falling to his ears and only encouraging him more.

"that's it.. you ride my cock so pretty, ma," he's practically doing the work for you, since he knows how tired you are, but that doesn't mean he's not proud of you for even trying. his head tilts back, blue eyes watching you as he bounced you. "gonna fuck you so good, babe, make you see stars, huh? couldn't sleep? don't worry, baby, don't worry," he mumbles, oh, he'd get you to sleep. don't worry about it.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

[starryjake]

attention | l.h

in which you find a way to get your gamer boyfriend’s attention by edging him until he breaks.

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

includes: edging, cum swallowing, m receiving oral, slightly throat fucking (lmk if i missed anything).

your boyfriend was so lazy.

you didn’t mind it. you actually liked being able to do things for him because he did a lot for you, lazy as he was. he paid the entire rent of your shared apartment, bought you nice things, and was honestly the best boyfriend you could ask for.

but as soon as he sat down in front of his computer monitor and put his headset on, it was nearly impossible to get him to move. he could easily spend hours in that seat not moving, yelling to his friends over his headset and perhaps even forgetting about you had you not brought him drinks and snacks every couple of hours.

that was the case as of right now. it was late and it was rainy outside and nothing sounded better to you than cuddling on the couch with your boyfriend and watching a movie together.

“heeseung,” you whined, standing next to his chair as he stared into his monitor without even blinking.

“i know, baby,” he replied, still not looking at you. “just give me a few more minutes.”

“i’ve given you hours,” you informed.

“five minutes, baby,” he said. “c’mere. sit on my lap and watch me play for five minutes.”

you huffed in annoyance, taking a seat on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. he wrapped his arms around your waist and continued playing with you sat on him.

you rested the back of your head on his warm chest and watched him skillfully play some video game, occasionally saying something to the friends he was playing with over his mic.

admittedly, you were entertained watching him, but then you’d realized an entire 10 minutes had passed and your patience started wearing thin.

“hee-”

“dude!” he yelled suddenly to his friend, interrupting you. “you totally could’ve gotten that guy, man, c’mon.”

“heeseung,” you scolded, sitting up in his lap and facing him with a frown.

“out of the way, baby,” he said, shifting his neck slightly so he could see the screen.

your jaw clenched. you were beyond pissed now and the fact he couldn’t even tell because he was so distracted pissed you off even more.

then suddenly, like a light bulb turning on, an idea popped into your head.

you shifted off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling in front of him. he glanced down at you for a second. you were nearly hidden under his desk, but a little smirk appeared on his face at the idea of what you might be doing.

you disregarded him, sliding your hand up and down his thigh, watching the gray fabric grow tighter and tighter as he slowly got hard from your contact.

he was still only half paying attention to you. in fact, it wasn’t even half. he would just occasionally glance down at you before regaining focus on his game.

you wrapped your hand around his half hard erection over his sweatpants, feeling it grow harder in your grasp. you licked your lips, already excited to get him on your tongue.

you didn’t have enough patience to tease, so you got straight to it. you tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, to which he lifted his hips up a bit to help so you could pull them down to his ankles along with his boxers.

his cock, now fully erect, stood straight up and long in front of you. you grabbed his length by it’s base, leaning forward to softly kitten lick the smooth pink tip. heeseung looked down at you and offered you a little smile, mouthing the words “good girl” to you.

you smiled back, and as soon as he looked back up to his game, you rolled your eyes. he would not be calling you a good girl for long.

you wrapped your lips around his tip and started sucking, forcing yourself further down his length. heeseung let out a sigh since he couldn’t moan, not with his friends on the same call. he’d never hear the end of it.

during a break in the game, he finally gave you all his attention. he momentarily set his controller down so he could glide his slender fingers through your hair, playing with the silky strands while your mouth moved up and down his twitching length, leaving his dick shining in your saliva.

“so good, baby,” he said quietly, watching you in pure fascination and awe.

you planted your hands on the tops of his thighs, forcing yourself to take him even deeper until his tip was hitting the back of your throat. your throat convulsed around him, gagging silently, and your eyes welled up with tears.

heeseung couldn’t help it this time when he moaned, a deep moan that came straight from his chest. he loved feeling you gag around him because he could feel the walls of your throat squeeze around his cock, and he loved seeing the saliva start to trickle out from the corners of your lips, spilling down the rest of his length and his balls.

you were hoping his mic was muted, but you weren’t sure. you assumed it was given how he was moaning the way he always did when it was just you listening.

but then, after about another minute of you giving all your energy to deep throat him, he pulled his hand out of your hair to pick up his controller again. he started talking to his friends and you knew that the game was starting back up.

you pulled off his cock to catch your breath, frustrated that he was back to not paying any attention to you.

you reattached your lips to his tip and dug your tongue into his slit, like you were digging for his precum. sure enough, a pretty pearly bead of precum formed and you lapped it right up like a kitten drinking milk. the salty substance washed over your taste buds and you had to squeeze your thighs together in order to calm the ache forming between them from tasting your boyfriend. you were mad at him sure, but you still were a sucker when it came to tasting his cum.

you held his cock in your hands and rubbed his tip over your lips like you were putting lip gloss on, only instead of lip gloss, it was a mixture of his precum and your spit. heeseung glanced down at you, smiling a bit at the sight, but it only made you more mad. you didn’t want him to be smiling. you wanted him to be on the verge of cumming.

if you wanted to get to that point, you knew what you had to do.

you licked a stripe down his shaft, tracing a vein, until you reached the end of his cock, then went for his balls. you licked them and heeseung jutted his hips up in surprise at the sudden sensation that he didn’t see coming.

“oh, fuck,” he said straight into his microphone.

you chuckled to yourself as he tried to explain to his friends why he just said that.

you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked, fondling it with your tongue as you jerked off the length of his cock. heeseung’s breath was starting to get heavier and his hands were getting so sweaty that he was having trouble gripping the controller.

he bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything again, but that didn’t last long.

as you moved back up to licking at the underside of his tip, you massaged his balls in your hand because you knew it was what it would take for him to cum, and you were right.

all of a sudden, he looked down at you with those wide deer eyes, fucking his hips up into your mouth. you could feel his cock throb and his balls tighten with the need to release and just when you felt that he was about to let go, you pulled off of him entirely.

his jaw dropped in shock and he looked down at you in confusion and disappointment. he couldn’t speak because of his friends, but you basically knew what he would’ve said: that he was about to cum. you’d known that, of course. that was why you stopped.

his dick twitched in front of your face, a string of pre cum trickling down the side. you resisted the urge to lick it up, knowing that the slight contact might’ve just been enough for heeseung to cum.

innocently, you laid your head down on his firm, bare thigh, pressing your cheek against it. you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pouting teasingly.

he was still confused. he had no idea what you were doing, no idea what he was in for.

you waited a couple of minutes until he was back fully engrossed in his game, his cock gone half hard by then. you then lifted your head back up and immediately wrapped your lips around his tip again.

he glanced down at you, eyebrows furrowed. you jerked off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, focusing mainly on his tip as you knew he was so, so sensitive there.

he was back to fully erect in no time and since he got so close to cumming before but didn’t, it didn’t take long to get him back to that point.

he was slightly fucking his hips up again, his knee bouncing, his hairline beading with sweat. he tried not to make it obvious that he was about to cum, not wanting you to take it away from him again, but you still knew. what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t know he was about to cum?

besides, his cock twitching and bobbing in your mouth told you everything. it was practically pulsating, getting ready to shoot what would most likely be a very big load.

he brought one his hands down to your head to try and hold you against his cock but you’d managed to pull off just in time, right before he could touch you.

he groaned in frustration, muting his microphone and staring down at you with less confusion now and more rage.

“what are you doing?” he demanded.

“nothing,” you replied innocently, fumbling with the bottom of his sweatshirt. “i’m just playing.”

“well stop playing and let me cum,” he said.

you frowned, mirroring his angry expression. you did not like the way he was bossing you around as though he was in charge right now. you had the power here, and he was only making things worse for himself.

“okay,” you said, though not sure if you meant it.

he gave you a warning glance before unmuting his mic and going back to his game. you rolled your eyes…again.

you focused your attention back to his cock, noticing how the color of his tip had changed from a soft pink to an angrier red, clearly feeling the effects of the edging you were putting him through.

you kissed his tip softly and his cock was wet enough from your previous saliva that you could glide your hand up and down it with ease. it was so wet that it even made a slick sound as you jerked it off, a sound so lewd that heeseung could feel the knot in his stomach again.

he gave you another look, one that was really telling you that you better let him cum this time, but where was the fun in that?

you smiled innocently, wrapping your lips around his cock and moving down to play with his balls again. immediately, he let out a little gasp and gripped the side of his chair.

“please,” he whispered, holding his breath.

you appreciated that he was using his manners now, but you still didn’t feel like giving it to him just yet. he still hadn’t learned.

his cock was beating like it had a pulse of it’s own in your mouth and you pulled off. this time, heeseung hurriedly brought his hand down to his dick to finish the job himself since you clearly weren’t going to, but you grabbed his wrist and held it out of the way, preventing him from touching himself.

he tried to break free of your grasp but you were gripping him tight, making sure that he wouldn’t be able to touch himself and make himself cum.

“what the fuck,” he practically sobbed, ripping his headset off and slamming his controller down. “let me cum already, y/n, fuck.”

you had to bite back a smirk. this was just what you wanted. you wanted to turn your boyfriend into a mess, a puddle of the composed man he normally was.

“play your game,” you said, disregarding his comments.

“no, i don’t care about the game,” he expressed. “i just wanna cum. please let me cum.”

“oh, so now you don’t care about the game,” you scoffed, softly dragging your fingertips over his warm tip, which caused him to wince. “now that i might not let you cum, you don’t care about it. how come you cared so much about it when i wanted to watch a movie with you?”

heeseung swallowed a lump in his throat. nothing he could say would help his case and he knew that.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he exclaimed desperately. “i’m so sorry. fuck—mm, please. please, i won’t do it again.”

“yeah right,” you muttered, rubbing his tip on your lips.

“i promise, baby,” he said. you pushed him past your lips, sucking on his spent cock again. “oh fuck—i promise. promise i���ll be better next time. please just let me cum. it hurts.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again because you thought maybe it did hurt. maybe you’d edged him enough times by this point that his cock really had been too hard for so long and he needed it.

you didn’t want your boyfriend to be in pain.

you forced him all the way back down your throat, gagging like you did before once it was all the way in, except now heeseung had his undivided attention on you, and he loved to see you choke on his dick.

“oh fuck, yeah,” he grunted. “please, baby, please. i’m already close. i need it so bad.”

you squeezed his thigh, drool spilling out your lips and dripping down his cock and thighs. it was messy, but that only made it better for him, and he could already tell that he was about to cum, and he just prayed that you’d actually let him.

he dug his fingers through your hair, trying to be as subtle as possible as he held your head to his cock, trying to ensure that you won’t stop.

“please,” he whispered, biting his lower lip harshly.

you looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling yourself get more turned on by how desperate he looked. you’d turned him into a complete and utter pathetic mess and you loved it.

“don’t stop,” he begged, his grip on your hair tightening. “i’m gonna cum, fuck! i’m gonna c—”

he threw his head back and could no longer produce any words, just a long, drawn out moan as he started cumming down your throat, jutting his hips up to fuck your mouth.

whimpers, whimpers you’d never heard from heeseung before left his mouth, which only showed you how fucked out you made him by edging him so hard. he was entirely so far gone, practically panting like a dog.

it seemed like he was cumming forever, keeping you held to his cock as he dumped what felt like a bucket of cum down your throat. your eyes watered and you were gagging uncontrollably around him, but you let him continue to fuck your throat and finish his release until he was done.

you pulled off his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. his eyes were shut, still trying to catch his breath after cumming as hard as he just had.

“holy fuck,” he muttered to himself, forcing himself to open his eyes and watch you pull up his pants for him. “thank you, baby.”

you stood up and turned his monitor off.

“i think you owe me a movie,” you said, raising an unamused eyebrow.

“i think you’re right,” he said, too afraid of going through what he just went through with you again. “you pick, baby. we’ll watch whatever you want.”

you smirked to yourself as the two of headed towards the living room. now you knew what you had to do with your boyfriend in order to get your way.

-

i was kinda half asleep when i wrote this so idk if it’s any good lol

thank you for reading <3

[ellabscrush]

— fucking you behind the screen.

thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..

pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader

cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.

ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.

“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.

“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”

your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.

it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.

“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.

“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”

not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.

you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.

she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.

“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.

“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”

you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.

“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.

“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.

you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.

“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.

ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.

“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.

“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”

you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.

“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.

“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.

she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.

she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.

“suck.”

ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.

“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”

a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.

“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”

“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.

at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.

her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.

“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”

“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”

the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.

“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.

“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.

“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”

it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.

“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.

“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”

your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.

“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”

the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.

“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”

suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.

“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.

“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”

“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”

that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.

“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”

“idiot,” he laughed.

that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.

she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”

she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”

with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.

“ellie!-“

“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.

“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”

you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.

“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”

you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.

“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”

“yes cum in me oh my god!”

she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”

ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.

“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”

“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”

“you did good baby.”

don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.

[frogstappen]

𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐧𝐥

best friend!max verstappen x reader / 3k

you watch max's home race from the red bull garage.

⚠️: description of major crash, some mentions of injury. sickly sweet friendship with a hint of something more. jealous!max, soft!max, cheeky!max.

“Headset?”

“Yep.”

“I got some snacks for you. Where are the –?”

The bag rustles as you lift it. “Pretzels. Got them.”

“And you know where the bathroom is? Out that door, down the corridor –”

“Max,” you push his arm down, “You know who we sound like right now?”

His eyebrows lift. “Who?”

You giggle. “You and GP. Radio, check. Headset, check. Bathroom, check.”

Max sighs, propping a hand on his hip. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just – listen to me, please, okay?”

“I’m going to be fine,” you assure him. “I’ve watched you from the garage a thousand times before.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t been down here in a while. I’m just making sure.”

The track is already deafening. The roar of tens of thousands of bloodthirsty Formula One fans isn’t quite as earthshaking as that of twenty racecars – but Jesus, there’s not much in it.

The attendance in Zandvoort this weekend has reached well over three hundred thousand. Earlier, you stood out front to watch the drivers’ parade with some of the team.

Max lifted his head as the bus turned the last corner and trundled down the main straight. The crowd thundered all around. He caught your eye and, with a smirk, lifted a waggling hand – and you felt your bones vibrating with the cheering.

An orange sea parted by a strip of black asphalt; they twirl flags between thick clouds of tangerine smoke. They paint their faces and wave their banners, topple their drinks with the thrill that just a half-second glimpse at their Dutch Lion ignites.

Formula One fans go hard. Max Verstappen fans go harder.

An assistant taps Max’s shoulder. She flicks up the mic on her headset as he turns. “Three minutes to anthem.”

He nods, and she totters off.

“Promise me,” he takes hold of your elbows, “that you’ll stay right here. I’ll find you after, okay? One of the guys will bring you to the podium.”

“Confident,” you snort, though his expression tightens.

Your phone buzzes on the desk. You flip it over and the screen lights a name adorned with a heart emoji. Beneath, a picture of the classic overhead of the grid, stretched across a flatscreen TV.

Bet your view is better than mine! Miss you. X

Max grumbles, grabbing his balaclava. “I should go.”

“Hey, wait.” You tug on the sleeve of his suit, dangling from his waist.

He sways back into your side, the weight of him familiar and gentle. “Mhm?”

“Have a good one, okay? Be safe.”

“Safe?” He smirks, toying with the cord of your headset. “That’s no fun.”

“I’m serious, Max. Don’t be a dick.”

Okay, he mouths, patting your head. “Speaking of dicks,” he taps your phone, “Better reply.”

His head tilts back in laughter when you shove him off, and he swaggers out of the garage. An assistant hoists a parasol in the air and scurries down the pit lane at his side.

He’s so calm, you think, that he may as well be out for a Sunday drive. It comes naturally enough to him.

He’s on pole today. The car has been good, Max’s form even better. The sky is clear (save for the fans’ fluorescent flares), and there’s no chance of rain – though, sometimes, you find yourself praying for it.

He’s Dutch, okay? The rain is always on his side.

It’s been a decent weekend, for once. No hiccups, no setbacks. He’s soared his way around the track, producing lap after perfect lap. The way he always does, when he knows you’re somewhere nearby.

His lucky charm, since his first go around a karting track. So Max says, anyway.

He’ll say it with humor; that wit of his that you’ve learned like a second language. Still – sometimes, after his hardest races, his toughest battles, he wraps his arms around you tight enough to convince you that he might just be telling the truth.

Just for a moment.

You’ve been best friends for as long as you can remember. Never one without the other; always whispering into each other’s ears or otherwise communicating through flashes of eye contact, kicks under the table.

Wherever he goes, you go. You bicker like a married couple, and trust each other much the same. From the school playground to the Circuit de Monaco – and everywhere in between.

The orchestra swings to life, sending the sound of Wilhelmus skyward. Onscreen in the garage, the camera focuses in on Max: calm, composed, staring off down to the first corner like it’s his next meal.

Nothing has ever happened between you. Not really. No secret rendezvous nor dear diary crushes. Once, and only once, a chaste kiss during a high school game of spin the bottle.

It was about as awkward as it should’ve been. This quick, electric shock of a kiss. Over all too soon and not soon enough. He tasted like the lager he’d been drinking. He steadied himself with a hand on your thigh.

You sat back on your heels, wiped your lips with the sleeve of your sweater, and aped Max’s look of disgust. You snickered with your girlfriends as the circle moved on – but anytime you snuck a glance at him, he was already looking straight back.

He never brought it up again, though – and so neither did you. As far as either of you were concerned, it never happened. You’re just friends.

Best, best friends.

This new guy you’ve been seeing – you met him in a bar in London. He said he liked your dress, said he liked your smile, then offered to buy you a drink. It’s been no more than six weeks, but Max had already quietly decided his thoughts over summer break.

He’s a nice guy, he said, deliberately bumping his rubber ring into yours.

You pushed away from him, floating across the pool. Nice? That’s all you got?

What do you want me to say? I’m not the one dating him.

I just don’t believe that nice is all you have to say. You’re not that good at pretending. I know you too well, Verstappen.

Okay, fine. Too much styling of the hair.

Too much…What?

Yeah. And he wears weird shoes.

Well, he likes F1. Said he’s a fan of yours.

Ha, Max clicked his fingers, That’s the biggest red flag of them all.

Your phone buzzes again. You turn it facedown without looking, and pull your headset on.

The circuit shudders as the anthem comes to an end. The drivers split up, pulling off ice vests and zipping up their suits. The mechanics prop chairs in front of the screen, thumping their helmets over their heads.

Almost ten years in, the anxiety still hangs heavy in your stomach. The rumble of the engines, the babble from the loudspeakers. The rapid-fire orders shot over your head in the garage.

It comes naturally to Max, sure – that doesn’t mean it’s easy for you.

You watch him as he lowers into his car. Eyes narrow and focused, blurring everything but that first bend from his vision. All good humor shaken off, replaced by a vicious hunger to hit the end of the straight first, to be a speck on the horizon before the first lap is through.

Your thumb picks at the 33 sticker on the side of your headset. You burst open the bag of pretzels.

Max checks the radio and GP replies: “Loud and clear.”

“Beautiful day,” the driver says, weaving through the formation lap. “Simply lovely.”

You smile, suckling on the salty snack. As nervous as you may feel, at least he’s having fun.

He brings the car to a soft stop on his line and waits as the others follow suit. The lights flick on one by one, a painful pause between each. One sharp breath, held at the bottom of your throat, – and the red dissolves.

The Red Bull fires down the track.

Your lungs fill with a gulp of fuel-fumed air. Veins flood with warmth – the ice-cold grip around each nerve thawed as soon as Max begins to lead the flock.

He fights off contenders for first all the way to turn four – snuffing the flame of a Ferrari here, squeezing the papaya of a McLaren there. He catapults ahead just past Hunserug, and the garage springs to cheerful life.

In your headset, the pit wall is serious, fixed on the race. They murmur over wavelengths, static fizzling between words. Voices flat and emotionless; statistics on top of statistics, strategies on top of strategies.

You crush more pretzels between your molars, watching, unblinking. You twist the cord around your index finger, draining the tip of blood, then loosen again as Max puts more than a second between his car and the next.

He’s doing good. He always does good, as far as you’re concerned.

He’s doing what he always says he was made to do. He was raised this way, weathered into shape by each storm he powered his way through. Not born, not destined – Max doesn’t believe in any of that shit.

God doesn’t drive F1 cars, he’ll say. I do.

A couple tense laps pass. The Red Bull is still up front, though he’s tussling with the Ferrari now hot on his tail. Each chance his pursuer takes, each split-second jab at his lead, Max has already squashed before it materializes.

He rips around turn fourteen, following the track through its widest bend down to fifteen, and hits the main straight to thunderous applause. The cars scream past the pits, a roar sliced in two as they barrel straight for Tarzan.

The gap is barely two tenths. The mechanics clutch their helmets. Max taunts the corner on the outside of the track, eyeing his target.

“Defend,” one of the mechanics growls. “Hold him, Max.”

The Ferrari tucks behind, its front wing edging closer and closer.

You blink.

The red car swings out, shuddering with the force of the maneuver. He steadies himself and floors it, each closing centimeter perilous.

Blink again.

They’re side by side. Almost wheel to wheel. There’s no way Max can’t see that scarlet smirk from the corner of his eye. The apex is right there, though, it’s right fucking there.

Another blink, and –

He’s gone.

He’s gone. He’s –

Hurtling off the track. At almost two hundred miles per hour. The gravel spits at him as he spins; smoke and dust billow from beneath. He slams straight into the barrier, and, finally, the moment ends.

Your chest shrinks; a weak wheeze passes your lips. “Oh, my God.”

The mechanics leap to their feet. They bark amongst themselves like a pack of angry dogs, though you can’t make out a word.

Your hearing is shot. Every sound bleeds into the next; one long, high-pitched scream. You move without thinking, without feeling; slip off the stool and tug your headset. It hits the desk with a distant clatter, though you’re already wandering away.

The sound of the crowd rattles against your skull. Numb, muted. An awful groaning sound as the cloud lifts, revealing the chewed-up car.

It’s bad. It’s the worst one in a long time. He must’ve hit that barrier at near-enough full speed. The dread fills your lungs like torrents of heavy, black water. Sickly salt, suffocating sea. Oh, God.

You scan the garage for any of his mechanics. Matt. Ole. Chris. Fucking – any of them. Who did he say would bring you to him when this was over? He said he’d meet you at the podium. He said he’d find you –

A rough hand grabs your elbow.

Max’s face flickers across your vision. Blue steel gaze, freckle above his lip. The dust pulls him away from your grasp. He hits the barrier again and again and again.

“Max –”

The voice is calm – too fucking calm, you think, when it tells you, “He’s talking. They’ve got him talking.”

“Talking,” you echo, begging it to solidify in your brain. “Can you put me on to him?”

The engineer pulls you over to the exit. He plucks at his mic, murmurs some response down the line to the team. He takes your wrist and leads you out, muttering, “C’mon.”

“Hey,” you tug on his arm, “Please let me speak to him.”

“You will,” he replies, snaking through the tight corridor. “Once he’s out, they’ll check him over. He’ll be taken in for evaluation, hitting the wall at that speed. Force must be bloody nuts.”

The thought sends another bitter stream of panic through your blood. “Can he move? Is he –? Can he get out of the car?”

He gives one quick nod. “Medics are there. They’re helping him out.”

Sunlight floods overhead, dazzling as you follow him out front and towards a sleek car. An attendant opens the door for you, and you slide into the backseat.

The engineer gives your shoulder a friendly shake. “He’ll be fine,” he says. “He’s done worse.”

The door falls closed and the car moves off, purring through the paddock towards the medical center.

You slump into your seat and press your fingers into your eyes; a headache already blooming between your temples.

He’s moving. He’s moving and he’s responding. They’re helping him up out of the car. He’s probably already being checked over.

He’s probably already asking for you.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, fingers dragging down your cheeks.

The center is a polite little hut inside the circuit. By the time you pull up, the race has already resumed. The remaining cars whizz by as you jog over, slipping inside behind a couple guys from Max’s team.

He’s had his fair share of scraps on the track. You don’t make it to the top without a sincere sense of dare, and an even sincerer lack of fear. Some call it idiocy. You’re often one of them.

Sitting on the other side of the clinic door, though – knee jerking, nails picking at the skin on your fingers – you’d be thrilled to never see these four walls ever again. Idiot or not, you care about him.

More than anyone else in your life? Jesus. Probably.

The door clicks open, and your blood jumps.

A pale woman in a pale coat steps out. She peers over her glasses, eyes you from the sneakers on your feet to the worry on your face – and says your name.

You push yourself up, squeezing past her into the room.

Max is perched on the edge of the bed, still in his fireproofs. Hair disheveled, face flushed and exhausted. Translucent with shock or concussion or worse, he lifts his head and flashes a lopsided smile.

It’s weak, barely there – but it’s him.

You care about him more than anyone else in your life. Definitely.

He opens his arms, fingers beckoning you in. “C’mere.”

“Oh, my God,” you sweep over, already in tears by the time you meet his body, “Oh, my God – you fucking idiot.”

His shoulders shudder with a bottled laugh. He wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head against your chest. “How was I supposed to know he was going to turn into me, huh? I had the line, I was –”

“Max,” you pull back, staring into his bleary eyes, “I don’t care. Just – don’t do that ever again.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he whispers, corners of his mouth twitching.

You sigh, collapsing onto the bed at his side. You lean against him and he winces a little, before pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

“You really scared me,” you admit, turning in to his chest.

Max slings an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight. “I’m fine, no? I mean, everything’s blurry and I can’t really hear much, but – it could have been worse.”

He props the pillows against the wall and pushes himself back gingerly, reaching past you for a paper cup of water at his bedside.

You move slowly, carefully, waiting for him to get comfortable before settling back, too – leaving a safe gap between his battered body and yours. Your cheek rests on the curve of his shoulder; fingers trace the logos on his sleeves.

Max breathes in the scent of your hair. He turns his hand and watches as your fingers trail down his wrist, circling his palm. He sucks in a deep breath, sighing to the ceiling.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” you whisper, and he hums.

“Nerves,” he mutters.

“From the race?” You lift your head. “You don’t get nervous.”

He takes another breath and turns to you. He’s blushing, and doing a shitty job at hiding it. “No,” he says. “Not from the race.”

You gulp. “Are you sore?”

“Yeah. My back, my ribs.”

“Do you want me to get up?”

“No. Stay.”

He wears the same expression he did all those years ago, sat too many people apart from one another in that drunken circle. The same expression you only allowed yourself fleeting glances at: bashful, a little awkward – all the more endearing for it.

Maybe he actually doesn’t remember that night. Maybe he was just too tipsy – alcohol gone straight to his teenage head. And maybe he won’t even remember this, what with the concussion and all.

It’d make things a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure. You could go back to your old ways: arguing over the best flavor of chips, screaming while playing video games. No second-guessing, no jumping to conclusions. Hell, maybe you hope he doesn’t remember any of it at all.

Somewhere, though, deep down – you know that’s not true.

“How’s, uh…whatshisface?” Max asks, nudging you with his elbow. He takes a feeble sip of his water and offers you the cup.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No idea. I left my phone in the garage.”

He scoffs, staring at your lips as you take a drink. He takes the cup from your hands once you’re done. “I don’t mean to give him shit, you know. If you like him, I like him.”

“Well, there’s liking someone,” you pout, “and then there’s willingly watching them crash full-speed in a racecar.”

Max smiles, lifting his cup.

“Whoever that is, sounds pretty cool to me.”

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

[vivwritesfics]

Madly

Best friends to lovers. Angst

Thirteen year olds were dicks, and not very creative.

She stood there with her father, trying to listen to his words of encouragement. Second place is good! he tried to reassure her. First is worst.

It worked on her when she was a kid, worked when she was just a child getting into the world of karting. But she wasn't a kid now. She was a teenager, and she was angry for her loss.

Max smiled at her like he didn't just cost her the win. Asshole. She scowled at him and he frowned. But then it made sense in Max's mind. Her dad must have been berating her like his dad would have if he hadn't won.

He just wanted to be her friend, as simple as that. He sucked in a breath and approached. "Good drive today," he said and held his hand out towards her. But she was glaring down at his hand until he pulled it away.

She had nothing to say to him, the way she was looking at him with her arms folded over her chest made that clear.

"You guys know why she lost, right?" Came a new voice, a familiar voice that got on her every last nerve. She turned and glared at the boy who said it. "Because she's got no balls."

Her eyebrows went up. What the fuck, she mimed to Max.

The kid who had said it had finished fifth, not even standing on the little podium they had during karting. Two drivers finished between her and him, and the comment had her utterly thrown.

"She's got bigger balls than you," Max threw out.

The boys laughed as they walked away.

"Assface," she spat, hatred in her voice as she walked back over to her father.

***

The road to Formula One hadn't been easy. She wasn't there yet, side lined as a reserve driver for Red Bull. Still, she was in a better position than most.

She sat on Max's side of the garage, wearing her usual Red Bull shirt as he spoke to GP. There she waited for him, wearing her AlphaTauri hat (yes, the old AlphaTauri team hat).

Max glanced around, saw her sitting there, and strode over. "Hey, Big Balls," he said and she stuck her tongue out at him. He pulled her AlphaTauri hat from her head and replaced it with his own.

"Hey, Assface," she replied and stuck her tongue out at him. "You feel like letting me drive today?"

"Not a chance."

Her fist met his shoulder, but Max hardly felt it. His hand came to rest on her knee. "Your time will come, Balls," he said gently. A smile stretched across his freckled lip.

She'd been there by his side since he started in F1, driving in the Toro Rosso. It had been difficult to support him around her F3 schedule, but she made it work. His second year of racing in F1 she spent in F2. And his third.

In his fourth F1 season, he put her name forward to become the reserve driver. And now they spent every waking moment together, it seemed.

It came as no surprise when she let herself into Max's apartment in the middle of his stream. "Balls!" He shouted as he turned around, pulling the headset off of his head. "You're here!"

"I brought gin!" She shouted and took a seat behind him.

There was a good couple of minutes where Max forgot that he was on stream, too absorbed in her. Nobody could quite follow their conversation, almost like they were speaking their own little language.

When she disappeared into the kitchen to pour the both of them drinks, Max returned to his stream. He spoke into mic, answering the joking questions that were thrown his way. That was exactly how it went whenever she was on stream with him.

Leaning against him, she placed his drink down. "Where're we driving?" She asked as she sipped her drink and observed the screen.

And, suddenly, Max was climbing out of his seat. He placed his headset over her ears and took her drink from her hand. "Go on," he said and gestured for her to sit down.

That was how the night went. She and Max drank together, taking it slow until he logged off. But then they were falling onto the couch, giggling as they tried to find something to watch. It wasn't easy, the buttons on the remote getting confused.

***

Her head pounded.

She looked around, holding the blanket against her naked, cold body. The apartment she recognised, but it wasn't hers.

Fuck, she was in Max's apartment. Fuck, she was naked in his bed. Fuck, he was naked in his bed beside her.

She quickly climbed out of the bed, scrambling to pick her clothes up from the floor. What had happened after they fell onto the couch?

Max rolled over as she grabbed her top from the floor. She froze, waiting for him to stay asleep. But that was too good to be true. He just had to wake up.

His blue eyes opened, eyelashes fluttering. He groaned as he looked at her. "Balls?" He grumbled as he sat up. It took him a good minute to work out that, he too, was naked. He held the blanket tight around him as he looked at her. "Did we..."

She quickly pulled her shirt over her head. "I'll see you at the track," she mumbled and grabbed a hold of her bag.

"The race isn't until next weekend."

"I'll see you then, Max." With that, she disappeared out of the apartment.

Here's the thing, Max loved this girl. He knew it, knew just how madly he loved her. She made him laugh, made the freckle on his lip hurt as he laughed. But he loved every second of it.

He didn't remember the night before. But he woke up in the middle of the night, holding her naked body tight against him. He didn't notice then, was too tired to think it was anything weird, and quickly fell back asleep.

When she walked out of his Monaco apartment, he realised. He loved her madly, and he'd blown it. One night of too much gin and he'd blown it. He loved her madly, but there was no way she was going to love him back.

Here they were. Stuck. Spinning like a roll of tape.

[yeonzzzn]

your eyes only ; hyung line

when you send enha hyung line a “your eyes only” text following up with nudes. warnings: swearing. suggestive content MDNI. sending nudes through text message. degrading names. praising.

𝐻𝐸𝐸𝒮𝐸𝒰𝒩𝒢:

you would totally shoot him with the ‘your eyes only’ text while he���s at work. waiting until the ‘read at xx:xx’ to pop up under your message, knowing he was probably freaking out. and freaking out is EXACTLY what he’s doing. heeseung would whip his head back and forth before running his thumbs as fast as he could across the screen of his phone to text you back. heeseung: yn i’m at work please you: ;) you: [2 photo attachments] heeseung’s pants immediately were tight at the sight before him. one hand squeezing your right breast while two fingers spread the lips of your pussy wide showing off how wet you are. whipping his head back and forth to make sure no one else just so happened to be standing behind him or walking pass and see his phone. using his arm to cover his very obvious hard on. heeseung couldn’t make it to the bathroom and locking the door quick enough. his heart racing faster than his thumbs could text you back, taking a photo of just how hard his cock was through his pants. heeseung: look what you’ve fucking done heeseung: [1 photo attachment] heeseung: i’m ruining that pussy when i get home

𝒥𝒪𝒩𝒢𝒮𝐸𝒪𝒩𝒢:

jay would be in the middle of having boys night with his friends when you hit him with the ‘your eyes only’ text. not even waiting for him to read the first message before following up with the nudes. jay would just be laughing and smiling wide with his friends until his phone dings from your text only to quickly lock his phone the minute your messages are open, eyes wide and ears red and praying to any higher being listening that none of his friends saw the photo. he would excuse himself and walk into the bathroom. he’d reach for the water faucet letting the cool liquid cover his hands before splashing his face, hoping it’ll cool him off. but it obviously didn’t. he couldn’t get the photo out of his head. barely saw it for a second and it was imprinted into memory. the way the lamp that sat behind the standing mirror in your shared bedroom illuminated your figure in the dark room left him dizzy. how the light so perfectly shaped the outline of your ass and back. how beautifully your hair hung over your shoulder and one arm covering your breasts. how you were biting your lip and giving him a wink. “fuck,” he whispered under his breath, palming himself to feel any sort of relief as he finally texts you back. jay: baby oh fuck jay: who do you think you are sending me nudes while i’m with my friends? you’d bite your lip as you reply back to him. you: but seongie, i need you :( you: [1 photo attachment he would fling his head back at the new photo of your thighs pressed tightly together, your slick shining against them from the lamp and palmed himself faster. jay: want to act like a slut? jay: just want until i get home jay: i’ll fuck you like the slut you are, baby girl

𝒥𝒜𝐸𝒴𝒰𝒩:

jake would be busy playing video games for hours on end. seeing on discord that he’s in the server with his friends. obviously you wanted his attention, and what best way to get that than to send a cute little ‘for your eyes only, pup <3’ text and attach a cute little photo of your legs spread wide and fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. the match jake was in ended, and the first thing he did was reach for his phone, remembering seeing you texted him just to drop his phone two seconds after opening your texts. “oh, fuck,” he breathed with a shaky voice. his friend instantly questioning him on his random f bomb usage. jake mutes his mic, not even answering them and picking his phone up from the floor. jake: oh baby jake: holy shit jake: please tell me you’re still touching yourself you: i am, pup <3 jake would be biting down at his plump lips, leaning his head back into his chair, replying back asking for a video of proof, which you so obediently gave him. you: [1 video attachment] you: need your fingers jakey :( jake: i know baby, being such a good girl, keep it up. i’ll be there in twenty

𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒢𝐻𝒪𝒪𝒩:

sunghoon dragged you to some family/friend reunion. both of you bored out of your minds. this event has been going on for hours and sunghoon eventually left your side because some old friends dragged him off to the kitchen and now you sat on the couch with his younger sister and a few of her friends, even more bored than before now that sunghoon wasn’t at your side. then an idea popped into your head, remembering the after shower nudes you took earlier in the bathroom mirror. you smirked as you pull your phone from your pocket. you: your eyes only <3 you: [2 photo attachments] you looked up at your boyfriend in the kitchen, watching as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, stopping mid sentence and locking his phone quickly and darting his eyes off to you. you continued to smirk meanwhile sunghoon was losing his mind at the photos you sent. the first one being the condensation mirror, but your naked body barely being seen but exposed enough. the second one being the exact same but a streak across the mirror, showing off only how perky your breasts were while the rest was covered by the condensation. it made him dizzy and pants grow tighter. sunghoon took a few steps back from his friends just enough for his phone to be away from eye level, and reopening your texts. sunghoon: this is a very dangerous game you’re playing right now princess sunghoon: meet me in the car in ten minutes sunghoon: i’m fucking you against that bathroom counter

— tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @niki-riki-nishimura-riki

[leilanihours]

# ABOUT YOU

pairing: paige bueckers x reporter!reader

word count: 1389

warnings: none !

summary: paige reunites with her favorite reporter.

⭑ from lani: first fic in literal MONTHS!! sorry for the unexpected hiatus ☹️ but we are so back (hopefully) also idk if i love this or hate this i was just inspired by the dub today

masterlist !

"THE UCONN HUSKIES are your 2025 ncaa champions!"

colorful confetti falls blissfully from the ceiling of the sold-out arena, the scene playing out like the end of an award-winning movie.

joyous screams and celebrations fill your ears as  the team jumps up and down, taking pride in their hard work and well-deserved win.

you can't help but smile brightly at the girls in front of you. you knew the effort they put into this season, you knew of the adversity they faced leading up to this moment.

it didn't feel right for you to be standing here with them considering you weren't an official part of the team, but you were damn grateful that you were here.

after a few minutes of compliments, hugs, and pictures, paige bueckers pulled you aside from the large group.

"hey," she greets loudly, still loosely grasping your hand, “where you been?”

“what do you mean? I’ve been here all game?” you say, puzzled by her question.

“i haven’t seen you since the regular season ended.”

“oh i stayed at school for most of the tournament,” you explain, “i was only assigned to report for this game. why?”

“i dunno,” paige shrugs with a smirk, “i’ve just been missing my favorite interviewer, that’s all.”

“careful, bueckers,” you warn, mirroring her teasing experession.

“so we doing an interview or what?”

"you want to? right now?“ you ask, surprised.

"'course i do," she says, "long as you're the one asking me the questions."

"okay obsessed..." you joke with a laugh.

“man, just shut up and talk sweet to me," she rolls her eyes playfully.

"so that's the reason you wanted me to interview you?" you deadpan.

“i mean…kinda?” she laughs, causing you to jokingly walk away from her, “i’m playin, i’m playin,” she grabs your arm and gently pulls you back to her, this time a little closer than before, “i just wanna talk to you.”

“you just won a natty and you want to talk to me about the technicalities?” you ask, confused.

“yes and no,” she offers, “I just wanna talk to you, is that so wrong?”

"alright, whatever, let's do it,” you giggle, making paige’s eyes brighten immediately.

once you called over your assigned camera crew, you picked up your mic and began the interview.

"i'm here with uconn superstar, paige bueckers, who just carried her team all the way to a national championship, and tonight i have the honor of speaking with her about her experience."

"hey, y/n," she smirks down at you with her hands behind her back.

"hi, paige," you blush, "so, this is the first national championship win for the women's program at uconn since 2016, what does it mean to you that you were part of the team that brought that title home?"

"it means a lot to me, truly," she starts thoughtfully, "it's been a bit of a struggle to make that stretch all the way to the end. we've gotten real close these past few seasons, but unfortunately we weren't able to close it out. this time around, though, with all my amazing teammates, it tastes a little sweeter. espeically considering that this is my fifth and last year here. it's like a little cherry on top, you know?"

"yeah of course," you agree, nodding, "you really deserve it considering the crazy career you've had."

"thank you, y/n," she smiles sincerely.

"on the topic of this being your last year as a college player, once you head into that locker room, what will you say to the young players awaiting years of experience to come..."

you continue with the interview, asking questions back-to-back that you genuinely wanted to know the answers to, or that you thought her fans wanted to hear about.

you were so caught up in the authenticity and professionalism of the report that you failed to notice the way paige was looking at you.

she was entranced. her eyes were locked onto yours the entire time, as if you were the only two people in the room. she nodded along as your sweet voice brought her to calm state of mind. whenever you interviewed her, she was able to disregard the pressure of the cameras and the media controversies. she felt safe and at peace.

with the way she stared at you, one might think that you were some sort of supernatural being that put her under a spell.

"yo, look," ice nudged aubrey with her elbow, "you see paige with that reporter?"

"oh yeah," she nodded, looking at the two of you, "that's y/n. she's a student at uconn and a reporter-in-training with espn. she's pretty chill," aubrey explains.

“well, shit, whoever she is, she got paige down bad,” ice laughs.

"what do you mean? they're not even close. at least i don't think they are."

"well they look like they are," ice says, "you don't see the way paige is looking at her?"

“lowkeyy,” aubrey raises her eyebrows, “you might be right ‘cus tell me why one second paige was next to me, and the next she was running around looking for someone..”

“it was prolly y/n!”

“no shit,” aubrey deadpans, ice responding with a shove and scoff.

they both stand silently for a moment, observing you and paige from afar. they watch as you laugh with their teammate, the smiles on your faces so genuine and contagious.

"i don't play my edits on repeat!" paige laughs as she hopelessly throws her hands in the air.

"alright, alright," you sigh as you try to subvert your laughter, "well thanks for talking with me tonight, paige, and huge congratulations to you and your team."

"thanks, y/n, it's always fun talking to you," paige smiles as she moves to hug you before waving to the camera.

"anddd cut," the cameraman says, "alright we're offline..."

you momentarily break free from paige’s grasp to thank your co-workers and wish them a good night. you’re about to start packing up your own equipment when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your frame.

“paige-“

“hollon, ma,” she mumbles into your hair, “just lemme stay like this for a bit.”

“you okay, superstar?” you giggle, hugging her back nonetheless. you wrap your arms around paige’s torso, squeezing slightly as you rest your head on her chest.

“yeah, i just-“ she sighs in content, “i just missed you.”

paige’s statement left you confused. you had only became friends with the girl that past school year, and you didn’t think that you were the closest friends. sure, you saw each other at games and occasionally around campus or at certain functions, but that was pretty much it. 

what you didn’t know, however, was that paige had taken a strong liking to you. her little crush on you was tiptoeing into unprofessional waters, but seeing you on the sideline at all her games with the brightest smile and most enticing personality made her heart soften a little bit.

over the course of the season, you became a sense of serenity for her amidst the hectic tornados of game days. if her shots weren’t falling, all she had to do was listen to the sound of your cheers of encouragement to get her confidence boosted. or if geno forced her to ride bench for a little bit, one glance in your direction would lift her mood and keep her motivated.

little things like that made the short exchanges she had with you more meaningful. to you, it might have just seemed like a means for you to do your job, but to paige, it was her way of slowly building a deeper relationship with you in hopes of sparking something that only existed in her daydreams.

maybe part of you wasn’t interested in her in that way or wanted to prioritize your progressing career, but on the other hand, maybe you just wanted to say “fuck professionalism” and just let your heart lead the way.

maybe you really were starting to develop feelings for the america’s favorite athlete.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[roseyuri]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ PUSHIN’ N PULLIN’ kim minji x reader

𝜗𝜚 MINJI & YN BEING AND OLD MARRIED COUPLE FOR FIVE MINUTES 972k veiws

౨ৎ warnings: idol!au, 6th member reader, minji and yn argue like it’s their 9-5 job… again, yn and minji from pushin’ n pullin’

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP ONE

“yn, you’ve been quite popular lately huh?” the interviewer said to yn, this was new jeans first comeback and their first time being on a radio show and yn seemed to be the target of questions so far with her popularity right off the bat after their debut.

”she’s everyone’s ideal type.” another one of the guys added as the watched her bashfully smile while laughing nervously, brushing the comments off.

“why are you acting all shy, we all know you have a big ego.” minji cuts in looking at yn who sat across the table from her and immediately gave the girl a deadly glare while everyone in the room laughs.

“if I have a big ego you have a big mouth.” yn snaps back at minji quick not even flinching when haerin pinched her arm, while everyone laughs even harder not even realizing this wasn’t some kind of playful banter between minji and yn.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP TWO

“you know me like no other…” yn sang towards the mic that’s in front of her, she swayed to the live band feeling the music.

“see me like no other, and I think I like your point of view…” she sang the words beautifully before looking at minji who raised her brow at yn questioning why the girl was staring at her.

as danielle sang her lines all yn did was stick her tongue out at minji, causing minji to playfully move her face closer to yn but definitely way to close for yn’s comfort.

yn screeched in her mic the sound interrupting danielle while minji bursted out laughing at the way yn embarrassed herself.

as much as yn wanted to give minji a peice of her mind because she hated when minji did that, she saw the look their manager gave them and decided to just look straight ahead for the rest of the song.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP THREE

the group was gathered in a comfy decorated room for their anniversary live, having a casual conversation about their day. the camera captured minji and yn sitting on the couch together, with minji casually resting her arm on the backrest behind yn.

“yn, remember that time you got lost in the building after practice?” haerin asked, giggling at the memory.

yn groaned, covering her face with her hands. “don’t remind me. that was so embarrassing.”

minji leaned in closer, teasing, “you were so panicked that you called me five times in a row. you were practically in tears.”

yn glared at minji, her cheeks flushing. “I was not in tears! I was just... concerned.”

minji chuckled, patting Yn on the back. “sure, let’s call it that. but who came to rescue you, huh?”

yn sighed, knowing where this was going. “you did, okay? you came to rescue me.”

minji grinned triumphantly, giving yn a nudge. “that’s right. see, you need me around.”

yn rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the annoyed smile on her face. “yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. It’s not like I’d get lost again.”

minji leaned back, looking at yn with a knowing smile. “we’ll see about that.”

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP FOUR

the group was filming behind-the-scenes content for their fans. the camera captured yn trying to tie her shoelaces while minji stood beside her, impatiently tapping her foot.

“hurry up, we’re going to be late,” minji scolded, leaning down to help yn tie the laces.

“I can do it myself,” yn grumbled, swatting minji’s hands away.

“you’re taking forever,” minji retorted, finally giving up and crouching down to finish the task herself. “you know, sometimes I feel like I’m raising a child.”

yn pouted, crossing her arms as she watched minji tie the laces perfectly. “I’m not a child, you’re just bossy.”

minji finished and stood up, ruffling yn’s perfectly done hair causing the girl the glare at minji with a smug smile. “you’re right, but at least you know who’s in charge here.”

as minji walked ahead of yn, yn shook her head the camera before following behind the girl.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP FIVE

during a live, the members were reading comments from fans when one particular message caught their attention.

“yn and minji, you two argue like an old married couple,” hyein read out loud, causing the rest of the members to giggle.

yn scoffed, “yeah, well, minji’s the one who always starts it.”

minji, who was sitting beside yn, shook her head in mock disbelief, “excuse me? you’re the one who always has to have the last word.”

“oh please, I just defend myself because you never stop nagging,” yn shot back, glaring at minji.

the fans flooded the chat with laughing, thoroughly entertained by their banter. meanwhile, the other members simply watched with amused smiles, knowing this was just another typical day for minji and yn

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP SIX

during a photo shoot for a magazine, the concept required the members to pose in pairs, showing off their chemistry and friendship. naturally, minji and yn were paired together for some reason that two girls could never understand . the photographer asked them to do a playful pose, so minji put her arm around yn’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

as they posed yn couldn’t help but groan. “minji, you’re holding me too tight!”

minji side eyed yn , tightening her grip just a little more. “I’m just making sure you don’t run away.”

yn whined, trying to wiggle out of minji’s hold. “I’m not going anywhere! but seriously, loosen up a bit.”

the photographer snapped a few shots, capturing their natural banter. “perfect, just like that! You two are so comfortable with each other.”

both yn and minji side eyed the man at his words.

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

[squinch-depraved]

based on a dream i had where ted finds footage of you and schlatt doin some stuff 😔

chuckle week is just a convenient excuse to be all together i'm sorry i write it so much :(

ted tossed his phone down onto his desk with a heavy sigh, finally giving in and sitting down to begin rifling through the hours of footage from chuckle week. something had come up and a last minute text from schlatt, of all people, saying he was going to have to be the one to edit it pulled him from his hazy afternoon of trying to sleep so that he didn't notice how empty his apartment was now that his best friends had left him there all alone. the quiet had seeped under his skin, which was so desperately missing your soft touch and schlatt's rougher one. he shook off the lingering unease and tried to immerse himself in reliving the memories of his great week as he slipped on his headphones and began editing.

hours crept by as he sat at the desk, leg tapping endlessly in an attempt to get some energy out of his system. he had just finished editing the first episode when he noticed it. everybody went to lunch after filming that one, he remembered because he went out with tucker and emma and was a bit sad the two of you didn't want to come with to the rainforest cafe. but here was footage with audio from that lunch break, about 2 hours captured from one camera and a mic left running. he skimmed through it, letting out a puff of air through his nostrils when he realized it was just a view of the empty booth everyone sits in for the podcast. about a third of the way through, though, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when schlatt and you stumble into view, tangled together in a mess of limbs holding limbs and warm kisses. schlatt slotted himself into the booth and coaxed you into his lap, immediately resuming the sloppy make out session. he groaned, gripping your hips tightly when you ground yourself down onto his clothed lap.

ted felt many things in those seconds where he discovered the footage. disbelief, at first, faded into feeling disrespected. after all, this podcast was his baby, and the two of you doing what you were about to do on that set while ignoring him for lunch pissed him off greatly. but anger faded to arousal the longer he watched you bite at schlatt's neck, and he smiled when the man swatted you away so he could touch you instead. ted sucked a breath in when he started rubbing circles into your crotch under your skirt. he started undoing his pants when you reared your head back and by the time your pornstar quality moan had echoed through the studio, he had eagerly spit into his hand and was stroking himself slowly. a deep groan tore itself from his lips as he began to buck his hips up into his fist, eyes trained on his monitor watching you kiss schlatt.

when he pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly. "we gotta hurry, doll, i don't know how long we have 'til someone gets back," he breathed, just loud enough for ted to hear. his friend's voice stole another moan from his lips as he continued to pump his cock. his eyes screwed shut for a moment, and he thought about the numerous filthy things he would do if you two were there with him before he snapped them back open to see schlatt sliding his thick shaft out of his sweatpants, precum leaking from the tip. you grinned and (not-so) gracefully slid yourself under the table to take him in your mouth, leaving only schlatt in view as erotic noises spilled from his lips. after a second, he focuses his dark, lust filled eyes on the camera and nods down at you, as if acknowledging that someone would be watching this.

a guttural grunt tore from ted's throat as he thrusted upwards recklessly, gripping his long, weeping cock like he had never needed something so bad in his entire life. he rolled his eyes upwards and lost himself for a bit again before focusing back in to find schlatt helping you back up and positioning you over his member before sliding his hands under your skirt and sliding your underwear to the side. you yelped as his thick fingers slid in you easily, and he pumped one, then two in and out for a bit, drawing melodic moans from you before he withdrew them and slipped them directly in his mouth. ted and you made a similar face- he wished he could taste you. he blinked again and you were getting impaled on schlatt's lap, nothing visible under the skirt except when one of you moved too vigorously and it flew up, exposing only flashes of where you interlocked.

ted whined, feeling himself getting close, and furrowed his brows together. he leaned back in his desk chair, almost panting, and continued to stare at you masterfully working your hips, grinding and bouncing so well both schlatt and him were lost in it. the man lucky enough to be feeling you smacked your ass, earning a sharp whimper. "c'mon, toots, getting close," he mumbled. "did so good suckin' me off, doesn't take much from this pretty pussy to do it for me." his hands disappeared under the skirt and ted could only imagine his fingers working deftly, tracing figure eights on your sensitive nub.

you began to ride him more frantically, whorish noises poured from your tongue and dared to expose the two of you to anyone who may have come near. you came first, arched your back in a way that left ted rapidly approaching his high. he bucked and rutted his hips into the air, desperate for any contact from the two people he needed most. a pathetic, gasping mess, he came all over his stomach, and watched through lidded eyes as schlatt finished in you and kissed you before sending you to go clean yourself up while he cleaned up the mess you two made. ordinarily he would never make you take care of yourself, but he didn't know how much time you had, so this was how it had to be. once you were presumably out of earshot, schlatt looked at the camera again and grinned.

"hope you enjoyed, ted," he said, adjusting his sweatpants and walking over to turn the camera off.

ted blinked hazily and couldn't help but smile.

[hanasnx]

rafe wld so get off on u being scared. like you’d be watching a scary movie together and he’d have his hand down ur pants to calm u down when u get scared and jumpy

-🎀

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: u don’t know what this did to me .. maybe it’s a lil different than your original idea but it’s where the voices took me

It’s not that you don’t like horror movies, it’s just that you have a hard time handling them. When your boyfriend expressed passing interest in a certain film, you didn’t want to tell him no, there’s hardly anything that earns his attention. But the entire time, you haven’t been able to sit still. Susceptible to every jump scare and every surge of music, you act like a child. Even his gentle chastising doesn’t get it through your head. After a sudden movement on screen and a blast of noise from the speakers, you squeak, clutching onto RAFE CAMERON’s shirt as you curl into him.

“Thought you said you could handle this.” he mutters, unresponsive to how you cling onto him. The arm draped behind you on the back of the couch remains there as you silently wish he’d wrap you in it.

“I can, I can.” you insist. “How are you not scared?” Your face buried in his chest means you can’t see how he eyes you up. Darkened pupils and rolling his tongue between his lips as he watches you peek at the screen every so often.

“C’mon. Could see the boom mic like five minutes ago.” he replies, but that’s not the real reason. It’s because he’s been too busy with his attention on you. Every time you’d jump, and scream, and claw at him… sure, it was annoying, but it was also getting him hot. It’s not something he fully understands, but his hips shift forward anyway when he adjusts in his seat. His free hand subtly rearranges himself, letting his halfie get some breathing room. Your temple lays on his upper chest, and your fingers fidget with your lower lip uneasily, finally working up the courage to peer at the television again. While you’re captivated, his arm discretely winds around you, and you’re so locked in you don’t even notice.

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, and you listen to him, shuffling impossibly closer into his side you’re practically on his lap. “Yeah, that’s right.” A mess of tingles travels up your spine, but you’re sure it’s the fact your hair is already standing on end when in reality it’s his low voice whispering praises in your ear. “Wanna be my brave girl?”

A hand wedges in between your bodies, in between your legs, and your temperature rises with every inch he gains. From your thigh to the inside, down and over, long fingers stroke at your sex through your pants. Your attention torn between the movie and where his hand is, you’re not sure entirely what’s occurring. At least not until his fingertips dip into your waistband and you unconsciously adjust to make room for him. To reward you, his arm curls up from your back, cradling your head as the hand pets your hair. You relax as he rubs you in two different places.

The pads of his fingers apply pressure to the skin above your clit, screwing sweet little circles. You whimper through your nose and you shift.

“Keep your eyes on the TV.” he tells you. Those fingers slide down, pinching your clit between them, collecting a little moisture from your slit to bring it up, and smear it on your bud. “Yeah, baby, doin’ good. Jus’ like that.” he breathes, commending you for sitting pretty for him and taking it. You can barely keep your eyes open, fighting them not to squeeze shut. Curiously, his middle finger traces your hole, and sinks in to the first knuckle. Sharply, you inhale through your nose, and he holds on to you a little tighter. “Not even here, princess, don’t worry about me.” he whispers against your forehead, drawing his finger out only to dip back in, introducing you to more this time.

You’ve been watching, like he told you to, and a jump-scare does its job, jolting your whole body with fear as you scream. The movement causes his whole middle finger to plunge into you, and a groan he’d been holding releases from his throat. It’s visceral, and something snaps. He gives you two whole fingers, then three. Shoving them into your cunt over and over again with vehement as you writhe. His hold on you keeps you where he wants you while he relentlessly finger-fucks you. Out of instinct, you try to hide your face, but that hand that had pet your hair grabs onto your scalp, fixing you to face the television again. He grips onto your head, raising your brows as if to force your eyes open himself, “Keep your fucking eyes on the movie.”

[wandasslut3000]

Are you desperate for me?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, car sex, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering, sex pollen, breast play, marking, praise, cum play, semi clothed sex, mentions of drug trafficking and death.

WC: 2.24k

               ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You and Wanda are currently in Bari, Italy, on a mission to find locate and arrest a dangerous drug dealer that is rumored to be heading towards London for an important deal.

Your goal is to find his base of operations and destroy his current supply. The suspect in question, Cecil Adams, otherwise known as 'The Count', has been injecting his victims with his test products.

Almost all of them ended up dead within minutes.

"Oh come on."

"It's for the good of the people" Tony said and you rolled your eyes.

"So me and Wanda have to cancel our honeymoon just to find some wack ass Peter Piper? Why can't the police just deal with it?" 

"They've tried, but every officer they sent has come back in a casket. You know we wouldn't have asked you if we didn't need to, but the rest of the team is already assigned elsewhere." Steve informed, crossing his arms and expressing a look of sympathy.

You groaned as you buried your face in your hands in annoyance. Wanda grabbed your hand, stroking the back of it her thumb as an attempt to help you calm down.

"A week in Italy wouldn't really be so bad, just think of it as a last minute change of venue." She whispered and you brought your head up to look at her and her bright green eyes.

"I... alright, fine." You couldn't bring yourself to argue with her, turning back to look back at Tony and Steve.

"You owe us two weeks off after this." Both men nodded in agreement.

Four days into your stay, you and Wanda had found his headquarters, an abandoned wear-house at the edge of the city.

You and your wife are rigging the place to blow. Members of S.H.E.L.D waiting just outside of the property as backup.

Wanda had used her magic to knock out the guards surrounding the area, putting handcuffs onto each of them, and with a snap of her fingers, she'd sent them straight into the secured van.

"You done, baby?" You ask Wanda through your earpiece.

"Everything's all set over here"

"Alright then, just make sure you're safe ok?"

You back away from the building with the remote trigger in your hand, your backpack filled with product in the other, you'd managed to sneak in prior and retrieve some per S.H.E.L.D's instructions.

"I will be detka, are you?"

"I'm safe" You assure her as you take small steps backward and away from the building.

Suddenly you feel a cool piece of metal brace itself against your throat, strong muscular arms wrapping themselves around you.

You sigh, reaching for the man's wrists and throwing him on the ground, the knife in his hand flying into the distance.

You hear him groan before you flip him on his back, grabbing a pair of handcuffs from your bag and putting his hands behind his back, locking him in place.

"For someone who's created such a hassle, you really need better fighting skills." You mutter, Wanda picking everything through the mic.

You cuff him and grab him by his hair, holding his head up. Pulling a chloroform-laced cloth from your pocket, you knock him unconscious.

"Luybov? What happened?"

"We've caught our culprit." You chuckle as you picked the man up, throwing him over your shoulder and heading towards the front of the warehouse.

You set Adams down, his body limp against the cemented ground.

"Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

Boom.

The warehouse erupts into a riot of flames, painting the area in orange and red.

You notice a puff of smoke head in your direction but it's unlike anything you've seen before, it was... pink?

You tried your best to avoid it but you couldn't, the cloud reaching you and the moment you inhaled it, you cough heavily.

Wanda uses her powers to contain the fire and puts it out, red wisps of her magic encasing the remaining smoke, clearing it into thin air.

Once you can finally breathe, you turn to pick Adams up and hand him into S.H.E.I.L.D's custody. A group of agents taking him into the back of the van along with rest of his henchmen.

You hand one agent your bag of evidence, receiving a nod in thanks before they get inside and drive off.

"You alright?" You feel Wanda's hand grab your shoulder from behind you, her voice is laced with so much love and a hint of worry that makes you fall even deeper for this woman.

You nod, turning to face her and wrapping your arms around her neck, pulling her in for a desperately lustful kiss.

The moment your lips make contact you can't help the moan you let out at the sensation. When you pull apart, she noticed how of how your pupils have dilated drastically.

"I think it's time we go back to the hotel, don't you agree?" Your fingers playing with the pendant of her necklace, Wanda smiles back at you and nods, giving you another peck that makes your heart skip a beat.

You'd never felt this needy before.

She brushes her hand past your ear making your breath hitch, disappoint running though you when you realize she was only trying to grab your earpiece, taking her's out right after and putting them in her pocket.

Hand in hand, you both head to car that Tony had lent you for your time here. Wanda opens the door for you, a blush painting your cheeks at her chivalry.

She then heads into her spot in the drivers seat, starting up the car and putting the hotels address in the built-in GPS system.

Once on your way, you feel Wanda's hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You were starting to lose your composure, though the act was innocent, the heat in your pants was becoming unbearable.

"Oh my poor baby," she coos, "I can read your thoughts; they're quite loud."

"Are you desperate for me?"

You feel your eyes shut for a moment at her accent slipping into her words, your thighs clenching at the rasp in her voice.

You grab her hand, bringing it down to your clothed pussy, making her feel how your wetness had already stained through your uniform.

Wanda bites her lip, making a sudden turn, slowing down, and coming to a complete stop in an empty lot. You look at the screen on the dashboard, your hotel a fifteen-minute drive away.

You awkwardly shift towards her, straddling her lap, and reaching to the side for the lever of the seat, pushing it downwards.

She cups your cheeks and kisses you deeply, your tongues meshing together in a familiar dance.

Wanda unzips your suit from the front, smiling at your lack of bra. You pull apart so you can slip it off and throw it somewhere into the backseat, leaving you in just your panties.

You gasp when she sucks different marks onto your neck and collarbone, teasing you.

She's looking at you with innocent eyes, batting her lashes and pressing kisses against your skin, she then takes your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other breast, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

You move your hands to the back of her head, moaning lightly whilst treading your fingers through her silky strands. "You want me to touch you detka?" She mumbles against you and your breathing gets heavier. 

"Please."

You buck your hips against her, grinding on her thigh pathetically, the friction of your panties brushing against your clit in the just the right way, little gasps and moans escaping your throat without permission.

Wanda releases your nipple, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting her to your chest, the sight making you whimper.

You look down at her with dewy eyes, the ache in between your legs becoming unbearable. Your breath shudders when you feel her fingers slip your underwear off, making contact with your wet folds, and you bite your lip at the feeling.

"So wet for me." She whispers, your eyes shutting when her slim digits make contact with your clit, and you can't help the noises that escape your lips. "You like when I touch you like this princessa?"

"Yes- fuck." You moan when she starts to tease your entrance, spreading your wetness thought your folds. When her fingers finally enter you, your eyes roll to the back of your head as she starts to pump them in and out of you.

"Such a pretty girl." Wanda coos, placing hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and jawline, her fingers curling ever so slightly on every pull out driving you insane, a familiar hot coil building up in your stomach.

Wanda repositions her hand, placing her two fingers on her pubic bone, using her free hand to help guide you into riding her.

"You make such pretty noises my darling, make some more." she smiles sweetly at you, making you groan at her words.

Your hands fly to her shoulders to help hold you up, your nails digging into the fabric of her suit, her lips back going to suck onto your nipples, your hips bucking frantically in your effort to chase you upcoming climax.

"Mm- mhmm, yes- Wanda, right- right there!" You squeal when she moves her thumb to put pressure on your neglected bundle of nerves.

"You're so beautiful" she murmurs against you before she pulls away, moving her other hand towards your ass, squeezing it gently.

"I'm gonna cum... fuck, baby I'm gonna cum! " Your eyes roll as you let the pleasure faze through you, you hide your face into her neck though your orgasm, pressing a light kiss there as your body trembles around her.

"You did so good detka, such a good girl." You hear her praise, rubbing up and down your back soothingly, as you slowly start to come down from you high.

When you lean back and open your eyes, they land on a lust ridden Sokovian, her pupils completely enlarged as she pulls her digits out of you.

Wanda brings her fingers towards her lips before slipping them both into her mouth, You feel another surge of wetness flow through you, slightly coating Wanda's thighs with my you slick.

She hums, "So sweet." She says as the swipes her fingers through your folds again, your head falling onto her shoulder as you shudder at the feeling.

You feel Wanda hold you up slightly, digits coated with your cum, you moan when she starts to pull at your nipples. "You like that, don't you?" She smiles before pulling you into another kiss.

She moves her lips downwards towards your chest, taking each bud into her mouth, tasting your juices as she swirls her tongue around them.

"Do you think you can do one more for me?" You nod, and she positions you onto her left thigh, guiding you hips as you start to grind onto her.

You whimper as your clit comes into contact with her skin each time you move your hips, Wanda pulls you into another lip lock, grabbing you by the back of your neck with one hand while her other one helps your movements.

"God- you feel so good..."

Wanda smirks against your lips before moving her hand from my hips towards your overstimulated clit, rubbing tight circles around it before pinching it, sending you into a deeper state of pleasure.

You scream her name and a string of curses, trying to steady your breathing. "So perfect for me." She whispers as she kisses your forehead.

"I love you" You say as you kiss her nose, watching how it scrunches adorably.

"I love you too" She returns, pecking your lips and hugging you close. Both of you sighing in content at the skin on skin contact.

[lnfours]

Heyyy congrats on the milestone🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Can you please do prompt 6 and 9 from list 2 where lan picks drunk reader up from a night out and just kinda takes care of her

Thank you💜

thank u anon! also the thought of this warmed my heart in a way i can’t describe ☹️ alsooooo best friend!lando bc.. yeah!!!!!

prompt 6: “hey, you’re shivering…” followed by their hand gently tugging your body closer to theirs while they rest their chin on top of your head.

prompt 9: being extremely gentle when you’re close to them.

join the 12k and annual celebration!

“where’re you at?” lando’s voice sounded through the speakers of your phone. however, you didn’t catch the sound of the jingle of keys in the background, or the sound of his front door closing.

“mm,” you hummed, turning around on the sidewalk to look at the bar behind you, “harry’s?”

he chuckled softly on the other end of the phone, car door closing as he hopped into the drivers seat, “you don’t sound so sure.”

“‘m not,” you slurred, “whatever bar has the really overly talkative dj. can’t believe he decided to get on the mic during the only good song he played all night. can you believe that?”

he smiled on the other end, putting the pieces together on where you were, “well, what song was it?”

you hiccuped quietly, but he caught it on his end, “best song ever by one direction!”

“that asshole,” lando said, typing in the address for the bar you were at, “listen, i’ll be there in ten minutes, alright? you stay put. don’t go anywhere with anyone. got it?”

you fake saluted, even though he couldn’t see you, “yes sir,”

“good, okay, i’ll see you soon.”

“see you soon,” you smiled, hanging up the phone before sitting down on the curb in front of the bar. after sitting there for a few minutes, your friends had finally walked out of the bar.

“we’re heading back to abby’s!” your friend, jasmine, smiled, “you coming?”

“no,” you shook your head, “my ride’s almost here.”

“did you call an uber?”

“something like that,” you smiled, “don’t worry, i’ll be fine.”

“what do you mean ‘something like that’?” the blonde, abby, asked. her question was answered a few seconds later when a car pulled up in front of your group. the mclaren being a dead giveaway of who you called.

the girls teased you, a cluster of ‘aww’s and ‘how cute’s coming from them before you flipped them off playfully. lando rounded the back of the car, clad in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that was a sign that he had been planning on going to bed before you called.

“evening ladies,” he smiled at the girls behind you before looking down at you, “ready, princess?”

you nodded, sticking your hands out to him. he helped you up off the curb, noticing your shivering state. the nighttime breeze and the revealing dress you were wearing making you cold.

“hey, you’re shivering,” he said, pulling you into a hug and leaning his head on yours in efforts to warm you up, “why didn’t you bring a jacket? you know it gets chilly at night in the fall,”

you hummed, basking in his warmth and the smell of him. he smelled clean, like he had just gotten out the shower, with a hint of the scent of his laundry detergent. his cologne from the day before still lingering on his skin. he smelled like home.

“accidentally left it on my bed,” you mumbled into his chest, his head resting on top of yours, “wasn’t cold til i came out here.”

he chuckled, “probably helped sober you up a bit,” he said, pulling away from the hug and leaning down to brush a stray hair from your face, “hungry?”

you nodded and he smiled, “okay, let’s get you in the car.”

you let him lead you to the passenger side door. the both of you bidding your group a goodbye as they all watched with knowing smiles and smirks.

once he got you buckled, he closed the door and made his way to his own side. he pushed the heat up for your side of the car, wanting you to get warmth back into your body.

“what’dya want for food?” he asked, pulling away from the curb before looking over at you.

“really want pancakes,” you said.

“you want pancakes at,” he paused to read the time on the display of his car, “eleven o’clock at night.”

you nodded, looking over at him and god he couldn’t say no to that face, “please?”

“okay, pancakes it is.”

you smiled, absentmindedly reaching for his hand on the center console, your cold hands wanting the warmth from his body back, “your hands are warm,”

he smiled, letting you hold his hand in yours, despite the fact that they felt like icicles, “because i actually dress according to the weather, thank you.”

“says the man who wears hoodies in the middle of summer,” you retorted, “no room to talk.”

he laughed softly, pulling into the parking spot in front of his house, “got me there, i suppose.”

he managed to get you in the house easily, you sitting at the kitchen counter and watching him rummage through the cupboards to find the ingredients to make pancakes. you couldn’t help but stare at him in the dim light, your heart clenching in your chest as you watched him.

he was making you pancakes. at eleven at night. after picking you up from the bar. what about him wasn’t there to love?

your feet were moving before you could think about it, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. he smiled as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, his freehand coming down and placing it over yours.

“tired?”

you hummed in response.

“once you eat we can go to bed,” he said, his voice soft as he poured the batter into the pan, “promise.”

“can we cuddle?” you asked, picking your head up and smiling at him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“whatever you want,” he smiled back.