#but I just know he can do unbelievable things with a car I just know it

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 8

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7

“I can’t believe you let me fall asleep!” Chrissy complains, crowding into Steve’s space to desperately try to fix her hair in the mirror.

Steve snorts, unbelievably fond at the way her bangs are going every direction but down. “What am I, your mother?” he asks, fixing his own hair by standing on his tippy toes and looking over her head.

“No, but she will be killing me for this!” Chrissy cries, finally giving up on finger-combing her bangs to dunk the strands into the sink and get them wet. “Thanks for reminding me!”

“You’re bitchy in the morning,” he mutters, grimacing when she pulls her head out of the sink abruptly enough that water droplets fling from her head and onto his shirt. “Now, hurry up, we’re already late.”

She flips him off, ignoring him entirely to continue fixing her hair.

They’re both late; Chrissy doesn’t let him forget it for the rest of the day, as if it’s his fault.

“I remember when I thought you were nice,” Steve mutters, laughing helplessly when she elbows him in the side.

“You love it,” she says, smiling as they sit across from each other in their usual spot in the library, feet settling together beneath the table.

The thing is, he does. He’s always liked Chrissy, even back when she was all sunshine and rainbows, but even more so now that there’s some grit to her.

“Shut up.”

Chrissy beams, all sunshine again as she plunks her stack of books onto the table and shuffles her letter-drafting notebook to the top. Only once she’s opened to a blank page does she bite her lip, looking up at Steve through her lashes.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” she asks, voice hesitant.

“What do you mean?”

She breaks eye contact, fiddling with her pen anxiously. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Steve doesn’t tell her that he already is, that a part of him, the small, squirming part he keeps hidden in his heart, wishes he’d never done this. That watching Eddie kiss Chrissy’s hand and knowing without being told that she’s the kind of girl Eddie might want had broken something inside him. That Steve knows he could never be Eddie’s choice, and knowing that burns.

But, since the flirting started, Steve hasn’t written a word, and that’s worse, somehow. He only has the one tether to Eddie, and he wants to keep it, even if it’s through Chrissy’s handwriting, and Chrissy’s words, and Chrissy’s face.

He just wants.

Instead of saying all that, he reaches out, putting his hand gently on Chrissy’s hand and replies, “I’m sure,” even as the fluttering of his heart makes a liar of him.

Chrissy’s still biting her lip, not looking reassured at all. Steve’s gut churns with worry. ”Are you, though? You didn’t sign up for this, and if you don’t want to do it anymore, that’s okay.”

She smiles, her bottom lip blanched white from her teeth, as she replies, “We’re in this together, right?”

Even with the smile, she still looks worried, but Chissy puts her pen to paper and dutifully writes out the words Steve speaks, editing and revising each thought until it’s something someone might want to hear.

They keep their voices quiet because there are more people sitting in the library than usual today: a big group working on a project, a couple of freshman scowling down at what looks like a Geometry textbook, and closest of all, a girl he recognizes as a band nerd, flipping through a magazine too fast to really be reading it.

It doesn’t take them long—they’ve done this enough times that it’s become almost an art form. Chrissy pushes the completed letter across the table for his final review before it’s signed and sealed.

“It’s good,” Steve says, pushing the letter back across to her to be dropped off in Eddie’s locker.

His heart aches; Steve wants to slap himself.

Instead, he parts ways with Chrissy at their cars, Jeff already waiting beside hers to be driven home, and goes back to his house, bereft of the noise Chrissy had brought only that morning.

*** 

Eddie had worried when there wasn’t another letter after he’d started talking to Chrissy. Did she not like him anymore? Was she done writing them entirely now that she can talk to him face to face?

He worries incessantly for days about it, even as Chrissy keeps saying hi to him in the halls, keeps smiling back when they catch eyes across the cafeteria, keeps being her usual, friendly self.

It’s just, the letters are different. They’re more raw, somehow, more real. And, no matter how this thing goes with Chrissy, if they stop coming, he’ll miss them.

So, it’s a relief when he opens his locker the Monday after Chrissy’s eventful Hellfire induction to find a letter. He can’t wait to read it, the anticipation has built up over too many days of not receiving any. So, he rushes to the same, familiar bathroom and opens it in the stall he’s starting to think of as his.

       Eddie —

       How did your show go? I bet you’ve got a couple groupies already, you’ve already got the look for it. Did you figure out the riff for the song you were working on?

       I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty, but it’s like riding a bike, you know? (Do you know how to ride a bike?) It’s nice, playing music, even if it’s all songs someone else has written, and they’re still not coming out right.

       I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I just didn’t know what to say. You’re so patient, and nice, and I got caught up in my head you know? But I missed you.

       I slept with your letter beneath my pillow last night, hoping for dreams of you.

       Yours, Always

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. I haven’t read it, but maybe I will. Just to keep with the theme, put this letter in The Lord of the Rings.

He devours the words, slumping onto the toilet seat the longer he reads. It’s perfect—just what he was missing. He reads it once, twice, thrice, the same way he had when he’d received the first two, disbelieving that such lovely words were meant for him.

Eddie skips his second period, first already long gone by the time he’d trundled into the school’s parking lot, and pens a response, then and there.

He goes to the library immediately, nervous that if he doesn’t drop it off right away, she’ll assume Eddie isn’t going to write back at all. 

He waffles over which book to put it in before finally tucking it into The Fellowship of the ring–it’s the first in the trilogy, and Chrissy’s probably too cool to even know it’s a trilogy. 

There’s no response in his locker before Hellfire on Thursday, but that’s okay because true to her word, Chrissy shows up again. She’s smiling as she bounces through the doorway, all springy curls and happy cheer.

“Hi!” Chrissy says, waving as she beams her blinding smile around the room,  all that cheerleader enthusiasm on display.

Doug looks struck dumb, staring at her with his mouth open. Gareth’s gaze is darting back and forth from the door to Eddie, eyes growing wider and wider with each pass. Only Jeff smiles and waves back.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Chrissy says, elbowing Harrington in the side until he finally looks up and gives his own half-hearted wave.

Because Harrington is slumped in the doorway behind her, looking like he’s trying to hide the entire bulk of his body behind Chrissy’s petite frame.

“Uh, hey,” he says, ears strangely pink as his eyes dart around the room.

He never looks Eddie’s way at all.

“Hey, man,” Jeff replies, the only person aside from Chrissy that is currently functioning.

“Steve, can come, right?” Chrissy asks, like he’s not already in the doorway behind her.

Eddie’s gut sinks then swoops. Harrington’s a jock—what will he do locked in a room with a bunch of nerds? But, the chipped nail polish.

Eddie’s mind is full of screaming, thoughts flip flopping over each other as he tries to articulate all the things wrong with Harrington coming to Hellfire, but all that comes out of his mouth is a chipper, “sure!”

Chrissy’s smile grows teeth—is she going to bite him?

Eddie resists the urge to take a step back.

Jeff pulls out the vacant seat beside him, still looking cool as a cucumber while the rest of them scramble. “Come sit down.”

And that’s how he finds himself with a jock in Hellfire. Should they call an exterminator?

It’s Chrissy who takes the seat beside Jeff which leaves the only other empty chair next to Eddie’s throne. Eddie glares at Gareth, gesturing wildly for his friend to move up a seat, but Gareth’s too busy staring at Harrington like he’s a cobra about to strike.

Harrington is looking at the only empty seat with the exact same expression.

“Steve,” Chrissy hisses, and Harrington jumps. “Go sit down.

The pink on his ears travels down to his cheeks—it’s unfair, really, how pretty and even his blush is. When Eddie blushes, he blotches bright red from forehead to chest.

Steve’s embarrassment suits him.

Eddie waits until he’s seated before clapping loud enough that everyone startles as they turn to him. “Now!” he starts in the grand voice he uses when he’s performing his Dungeon Master duties. “Are you two playing?”

“No,” Harrington rushes out, the pink of his blush deepening to a red as he finally meets Eddie’s eyes. “I mean, Chrissy said she just watched last time?”

“We didn’t want to slow you down,” Chrissy cuts in.

Eddie nods, looking between the couple as awkwardness stews in the stilted silence.

“Alright,” he replies. “Gird your loins, lords and lady.”

Knowing a cue when they hear one, the Hellfire boys scramble to pull out character sheets and dice.

And they’re off!

It takes a minute to fall into the familiar minutiae of telling a story with not one but two interlopers, but Eddie manages it. This is where he thrives: a captive audience and all the power to fuck with them in the palm of his hand.

He only stumbles once, words jumbling together when he looks up and catches Harrington staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks still flushed from his earlier embarrassment as he bites his lip, ass literally on the edge of his seat as Eddie cobbles together the climactic finish to their latest encounter.

Harrington looks away quickly, but Eddie knows what he saw: Harrington is into this nerd shit. He’d tease him if he wasn’t worried that it would end in a swirlie.

Still, Eddie can feel his head puffing up like an overfilled balloon. He’s on the top of his game, painting grand adventures with grander words, all gestures and enthusiasm. He feels electric, the way he always does when there’s a new sheep in his flock to impress. His skin’s almost buzzing with it.

After all, even if his audience member is a jock, Eddie’s always been great at putting on a show. 

Neither of the interlopers say anything until they’re busy packing up. Eddie lounges back in his throne, watching Chrissy help Jeff with his dice. She’s smiling up at him, clearly just as interested in their nerd shit as Harrington.

Eddie turns his eyes back to Harrington to see how he’s taking his girl talking to a guy that isn’t him only to find Harrington staring at him again.  When Eddie meets his eyes, he ducks his head, cheeks tinting that familiar pink.

Is Steve Harrington fucking awkward?

“You’re good at that,” Harrington says quietly.

Eddie hums, confused. He’s shuffling his papers back together, not looking down at what he’s doing. What’s happening in front of him is far more interesting.

“At what, big boy?”

“Uh,” Harrington starts, darting his eyes back up to Eddie’s for a second before looking back down at his fiddling hands. “Telling a story.”

Eddie smiles, something warm and amorphous filling his stomach. “Thanks,” he says, lightly kicking Harrington’s ankle.

Harrington twitches, lets out a quick, “mmhmm,” and then turns away from Eddie to go find his girlfriend, dismissing Eddie without another word.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks, settling his arm around her waist and damn-near frog marching her out of the room.

“Bye, Jeff! Bye, Eddie!” Chrissy calls, still cheerful even as her boyfriend controls her every move. Maybe she’s used to it—first Carver and now Harrington. “See you next week?”

Neither of them wait for a reply.

The silence is stifling in their wake. Only Jeff seems unbothered as he stuffs all of his supplies into his backpack. Doug hasn’t even touched his dice.

“What the hell was that?” Gareth asks, whipping around to Eddie.

“How the hell should I know?”

Jeff snorts. “You invited them,” he says.

“I invited Chrissy,” Eddie whines. “She invited Harrington.”

That catches Jeff’s attention. He glares at Eddie like he’s the one that had invaded their sacred space. “You’re not this stupid,” he says, swinging his backpack onto his back and striding toward the door. “I’ve got a ride home, don’t wait for me.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie demands.

The only answer is the door swinging shut.

*** 

Once he’s walked Chrissy to her car and watched her pull out of the parking lot safe from Carver’s creepy hands, Steve collapses into his own car. He presses his face into the steering wheel and groans, long and loud, assured in his safe isolation. 

When the passenger door opens, he jumps, neck cracking with the speed at which he turns his head, ready to fight off the trespasser.

“Oh, it’s you,” Steve says, dropping his head back to the steering wheel.

“He knows,” Jeff says, voice serious enough that Steve raises his head back up immediately, heartbeat ratcheting up.

It takes a second for the words to connect, and when they do, his heartbeat quickens further, sweat pooling on the back of his neck, hands clenched hard enough on the steering wheel to hurt as fight or flight hits him.

“What?” he asks, the word cracking around his suddenly parched throat.

“Shit,” Jeff mutters, reaching out to pat Steve’s shoulder. “Not about you!”

Steve’s shoulders slump, breath shuddering out of him as Jeff continues to pat his shoulder, too awkward to be all that comforting. “Then, what—”

“He knows Chrissy is putting the notes in his locker.”

Steve sighs, slumping into his seat, uncaring of the way it crushes Jeff’s hand against the backrest. “Yeah, we figured,” he says, suddenly exhausted. “Do you know how?”

Jeff’s biting his lip when Steve looks his way. “He didn’t tell me,” he mutters. “But I know my best friend.”

It’s Steve’s turn to reach across the car and clasp Jeff’s shoulder. “I’m sure he has a reason for not telling you,” Steve replies, trying to smile past all that exhaustion.

Jeff snorts. “A stupid one, maybe.”

Steve hums, squeezing once more before dropping his hold on Jeff, suddenly realizing how stupid they must look, leaning toward each other, hands on each other’s shoulders like they’re having some sort of bro moment.

Steve turns back to the front of his car, cranks the engine, and smiles across at Jeff as the other boy takes the hint and drops his own hold. “Want a ride home?”

Instead of answering, Jeff puts on his seatbelt.

Jeff’s house is surprisingly close to Steve’s own. It’s a bit smaller than his, but there’s already a car in the driveway, and the shadows of silhouettes moving behind the pulled curtains, warm yellow light filtering through the fabric and onto the street.

Steve wishes he could go in with a fierce sort of longing that surprises him.

Jeff’s already got his seatbelt off and the passenger door open when he sighs, turning back around and settling back in his seat.

“You should come next week,” he says, all earnest in that way that seems to come so naturally to him and must have gotten him eaten alive in middle school.

“You can’t be serious,” Steve replies. There’s a tension headache growing, exasperated by the incredulous scrunching of his eyebrows. “That was a disaster.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Jeff says, but he’s grinning like he’s remembering something funny. Steve’s got a few guesses what.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, man.” Jeff clasps his shoulder again—maybe that’s just something he does?

Steve scoffs, the roll of his eyes making his head pound. He opens his mouth to retort, something about Eddie’s reaction to Steve sitting beside him, but Jeff beats him to the punch.

“I know Eddie. And that in there?” He points back the way they’d come, like if Steve just strains his eyes, he’ll be able to catch sight of Eddie’s stupid fancy chair, and the stupid musty drama room, and the stupid look on Eddie’s face. “—is him interested.”

Steve closes his mouth, swallowing all the spit in his mouth, hoping it’s not audible to Jeff no matter how quiet the car is. “In me?” he asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

Jeff doesn’t break eye contact, but his mouth twists uncomfortably. “Like you’re interested in him?” Jeff asks, continuing before Steve can reply. “I don’t know, man.”

Steve droops, the hope blooming in his chest curdling and sinking down into his stomach like old milk. He wants, desperately, to go home, turn out all the lights, and curl up alone in his bed to sleep away the rest of the day. But, Jeff’s still in his car, so he clenches the wheel between his fingers and says, “okay.”

“But, he doesn’t get you,” Jeff continues, voice gentling further. “And that intrigues him.”

Jeff’s still smiling like that should be some sort of boon to Steve’s ego, but it’s not. It lands like a brick. No one ever gets him, and whether he intrigues them or not, it always ends the same: him, alone in his big, empty house, waiting for a phone call that will never come, a doorbell that will never ring, a window that will never be snuck through.

He’d been through it before, with Donna in sixth grade, Nancy in tenth, hell, even Carol and Tommy for more years than he can count.

Intrigue has never gotten him anywhere. But, Jeff’s smiling, small and real, so Steve replies, “thanks, man,” smiling back until the other boy gets out of the car and he can safely drive away.

He’s got a dark house and a chilled bed waiting for him.

For the first time since this whole thing started, Steve writes the first draft of one of his secret admirer letters alone.

PART 9

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[thefinalsnart]

Plz I watched the movie again yesterday it brought back sooooo much memories 😩😩😩🧡🧡🧡

YESSSS 🩷🩷🩷

I wanted to wait until after watching the movie to refresh my memory before answering this and it was so worth it. I apologize Dy this might just turn into my 2 Fast 2 Furious review.

First of all it definitely went up to the top of my rankings. Roman’s personality felt different, in a good way. In the newer ones it feels like they’ve turned him into a goofy charismatic punching bag? Roman is still goofy and charismatic in this, but it isn’t all he is. His and Brian’s developing trust and the reemergence of their friendship is so good, by the end it’s like they’re rowdy teenage boys again. Him not having a goofy beef with Tej is also nice. They are friends. :) also everyone’s STYLE!! The only one who doesn’t have it is Brian, but everyone else’s outfits were SICK!! Tej’s first outfit? SICK. Roman only wearing shirts with the sleeves ripped off? And his little hats? SICK. SUKI??? SUKIS OUTFITS??? Rolling on the floor. I’m the ICU. SICK!!! She’s everything. I wish she was in it more. Idk if Devon Aoki is interested in acting anymore but I would love to see her in the newer ones. Before the first race when she’s like. Fingering fondling the gear shift, then tells Tej she hasn’t gotten with him because he doesn’t have “the right tools”??? My little gay heart. Suki my beloved.

Anyways I think 2 Fast 2 Furious might be my favourite of the franchise, with Tokyo Drift and maybe the newer ones trailing after them. I hadn’t rewatched 2 since University, and it brought back good memories of when I watched through all of them for the first time. 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Sorry for rambling JENDNFMFF and thank you for dropping by the ask box, I would also love to hear more of your thoughts if you would like to share. Fast n Furious and Suki forever 💕😔🤝😔💕

[depresseddepot]

I hate the US grading system !!!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Coffee Crossfire

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You own a cafe in Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes' territory. You occasionally let him hold meetings in the cafe after hours and things usually go well....but not this time.

Bucky looks around the disastrous mess around him. He's so fucked as he takes note of the shattered windows, bullet holes in the furniture and walls, broken tables and chairs.

You're not going to be happy with him at all.

Bucky looks at Sam and Steve, who've just finished getting rid of the bodies.

"She's gonna be pissed," Sam says looking at the mess.

"I know!" Bucky exclaims and runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck. Okay," he points at his two best friends, "Call up a clean up crew and construction crew. We need to get started on fixing this place up ASAP."

"Got it, boss," Sam says with a nod, pulling out his phone.

Steve approaches Bucky and claps him on the shoulder, "Start planning your funeral, Buck."

"Shut the fuck up, Steve." Bucky pulls out his phone and starts searching for places that are open late. He needs to find you some flowers.

_____________________

You're up late working on paperwork when you hear a knock at your door. You get up from your desk and peer into the peephole. You see Bucky holding a bouquet of flowers and you're immediately suspicious.

When you open the door, you see the flowers and the look on Bucky's face. You cross your arms over your chest and ask, “What did you do?”

He shrugs and responds, “Why do you assume I did something?”

“Because you got me flowers and you have a look on your face that says ‘I did something bad and you’re gonna be mad at me for it.’”

He gulps and confesses, “…the cafe got shot up.”

“WHAT?!” You look at him with wide eyes. You immediately grab your keys, slip on your shoes, and ready to head out, but Bucky stops you.

“I already have my guys cleaning it up and repairs will start tomorrow!"

You groan and grab the bouquet of flowers, whacking Bucky with them, “Unbelievable, Barnes! I can't believe you!”

“Sugar, I swear, I didn’t anticipate for the meeting to go that way!”

You grunt again, turning around and heading back into your apartment. Bucky follows you in and watches as you toss the flowers onto your kitchen counter, the petals falling off.

"Listen, I promise you, that the meeting was going well and then we were ambushed. They did a drive by. Romanoff and Maximoff were able to track them. Sam, Steve, and I handled the guys in the cafe."

"None of your people got hurt?"

Bucky shakes his head, "Thankfully, no."

"Good, I might kill you myself then," you look at him with a stern glare.

He holds his hands up, "Understandable. But I already have the guys working on cleaning the mess and fixing it up. Might take a few weeks depending on the damage."

"Take me there."

"Sugar-"

"Take. Me. There. Now."

Bucky gulps, "Alright." Bucky leads you out of your apartment and to his car. The ride to your cafe is filled with silence. Bucky knows how much he fucked up.

____________________

Your heart drops when you see the shattered windows and busted door. Sam, Steve, and several of Bucky's men are sweeping up the glass, surveying the mess.

Bucky can't stand the sad look on your face, "Sugar, I-"

"Don't."

You take a look around, any man in your way immediately moves to the side. Your life's work was ruined and all because you decided to set shop in Bucky's territory.

You hold back tears and look at Bucky, "You're going to handle it?"

"All of it. You just let me know what you want and need and I'll pay for it."

"Okay...and, maybe don't have anymore meetings here from now on."

"I understand. No matter what, your cafe will still be under my protection."

"Okay. Can you take me home now?"

"Of course."

The ride back was in silence once more. It drove Bucky crazy because he loved hearing you talk and joke with him. Knowing that he was the reason for your silence absolutely breaks his heart. After dropping you off, he definitely needs to pay the guys who did this a visit.

______________________

You go to the cafe the next morning and see a group of people already working on fixing the windows and doors.

You're also surprised to see Bucky there, very dressed down in a tshirt and jeans.

"Bucky?"

"Oh, hey," he hands you a paper, "Here's a list of things that need repairs or replacements. Just send me the links to any furniture and decor you want."

You take notice of his wrapped knuckles. You immediately grab his hands and look at him, "These weren't like this when I saw you last night."

"Had to give some people a talking to."

"YOU RUINED MY GIRL'S CAFE! NOW TELL ME WHO YOU WORK FOR!"

"Hm. Did they suffer?" you look at him with curiosity.

He smirks at you, "Of course. Romanoff and Maximoff are good at what they do."

"Remind me to buy them dinner later."

He looks at you with a pout, "I helped too!"

"Hardly, I'm sure."

"Well how about I get a kiss since I'm paying for everything?"

"The damage is your fault. I'm not rewarding you for solving the problems you caused, Barnes."

He groans, "You break my heart, sugar."

You shrug, "You'll live," you pocket the list and head to the counter to overlook all of your equipment.

Bucky stays back and watches you for a little bit. He can't deny how much he cares for you, which is why he's working so hard to fix the problems he caused.

He just hopes you'll eventually see how much you mean to him and take his feelings for you seriously.

PART 2 HERE

[qcomicsy]

Random convo I bet happen between civilians and vigilantes

Civilian: What hair product do you use man?? My man's hair is shiiiiining

Nightwing, chuckling: I just let it dry (lying)

Civilian: Naaaah, man I see you jumping from rooftop to rooftop everyday, tell me your secrets–

---

Gothamite: And who's gonna pay for this scratch on my car?!!!

Robin (Tim), trying damn hard to stay stealth: Don't you have insurance?

Gothamite, don't giving a fuck: No!

Robin: You should have–

Gothamite: You know what? HEY TWO-FACE–

Robin: No, no, no– Hold on–

Gothamite: HE'S RIGHT HE–

---

Gothamite: Okay- Cannabis is very much legal in L.A.

Batman: We're not in L.A.

Gothamite: Yeah that's funny because– *runs*

Batman: *Runs after him.*

---

Gothamite: See I don't hate you

Signal: Always good to hear that–

Gothamite: You doing a pretty good job.

Signal: I–

Gothamite, also a bus driver: But you gotta stop being thrown at my window–

Signal: I don't control where villains throw me.

Gothamite: Yeah bro– But you better start, otherwise there's gonna be one more out there–

---

Gothamite, also a security guard on his phone at 3 am: Yeah, no honey it's literally desert here–

Gothamite: HOLY SHIT

Batman:

Gothamite: Fucking warn a guy, mY GOD–

---

Gothamite: I thought you were taller.

Nightwing: I heard that a lot.

---

Gothamite: How do you see on that thing?

Batgirl (Cassandra):

Batgirl: I don't.

Gothamite, terrified: Oh okay–

---

Batman: Shouldn't you be at home?

Gothamite, who's also a teenager very much snicking out at four am: Shouldn't you mind you business?

Batman:

After being forcefully driven to home on the batmobile

Gothamite That was really unecessary–

---

Gothamite: Are you alone??? Where'd your dad? Where's Batman?

Robin (Tim Drake, early days): Batman's not my dad.

Gothamite:

Gothamite: See now I'm concerned.

Robin: Oh no–

Gothamite: What's is this a internship...? A job...?

Robin: You know what? Yeah, Pretty much.

Gothamite: Really? Oh okay, okay. I'm less concerned– Because–

Robin: Yeah I can see–

Gothamite: Like "is he kidnaping those children"?

Robin, chuckling: No, no–

Gothamite: You get paid?

Robin: Not really.

Gothamite: I'm back at being concerned–

---

Gothamite, from her window: Have you eaten yet?

Robin (Dick): No– (lying)

Gothamite: Oh, the poor child– Oh shame on you

Batman:

Gothamite: The poor kid– You're dragging him alone with you to fight crime on a empty stomach?

Batman:

Batman: I–

Gothamite: Unbelievable. I expected more on you– Hold on sweety I'll see If I have some cookies here to give you.

Dick: :)

---

Robin (Damian): Do I look like a fucking child?

Gothamite: Do you want me to answer that?

---

Old Gothamite being around the city since Batman year 1: You sound different.

Batman (Dick Grayson): No I don't.

Gothamite: Yes you do–

---

Gothamite: She looks different.

Gothamite: Mark is the same girl.

Gothamite: No honey, she looks different, she's was taller

Gothamite: Honey you're being paranoid.

Gothamite: She was a red-head!

Gothamite: Oh, Mark. Now the girl can't even dye her hair? Just because she's a Super-hero? Por girl can't even reinvent herself and people on this city start saying she's a different person?! Let her be! Her life must've be hard enough–

Gothamite: Jennet I swear to God that's not the same girl–

Batgirl (Stephanie), just trying to get some information:

Gothamite: You never notice when I change my hair–

[vixensbrainrotts]

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

[ramonathinks]

favorite girl | john price

cw: mdni, 18+, smut, mild angst. note: [listen to tantrums by normani for the full effect]

you're unbelievably drunk. whining for an ex boyfriend who you couldn’t believe broke up with you. but even worst is that you're horny. nobody has even been able to get you off like he has and you can't help but to think of him.

so with wobbly knees and a quivering voice you call him. you know he's probably in his penthouse with a cold beer in his hand not wanting to be bothered but yet...

“i didn't think you'd answer.”

“i'd always answer for you.” he still sounds the same, still talks like you're his and it just makes you angry. “it's pretty late.” you knew him, so you knew he was glancing at his rolex.

“’m sorry, are you tired?” the world is spinning and you're giggling.

you hear some rustling. “need me to come get you? send a car for you?”

“mhm. maybe.” you think. “no... i don't wanna see you. you broke my heart...old man.”

“listen, kid... it's better you're serious about somebody you're own age —” john started.

you sniffle, it's the speech all over again. “just forget i called. lose my number.”

you hang up and it's fast. but all you can think about is when everything was right.

of course things were different and crazy. he was in his mid 40's and you were barely 25. but it wasn't weird until he made it weird.

but before that, it was always just late night calls, and soft sex. you on your knees for him and keeping him in your mouth, even when he was soft but fuck did he love your young throat. always so tight, it felt like he was fucking your pussy all over again.

he loved the clothes you wore and how easy they were to get off, he would tease you and fuck you in his office chair.

he didn't seem that old until he took you to places that nobody your age would be interested in. it didn’t matter though. you even loved his taste in music.

you loved how he still knew how to work his phone and wasn't like those other old people who couldn't send a picture.

on his long business trips when you were too lazy to come with him, he'd send you videos tapping his cock against the screen and you were always surprised by just how hard he could get.

he didn't move young. especially on the dance floor. he taught you to waltz and got you a ball gown that made your skin glow.

he didn't move young when he'd throw you up against the wall and fuck you against all the walls in his house.

“you're so fucking good at taking me.” he'd whisper in your hair after slapping your ass.

and when he took you to his vacation house you thought it meant something. when he told you this was his favorite house.

taking his favorite girl to his favorite house.

sitting you on the marble counter and thrusting inside of you. squeezing and milking him with a chuckle, “i think i love you.”

it made him stop in his tracks. and suddenly you could see his grey hairs clearly.

he couldn't break up with you there nor could he do it to your face.

it took a few weeks before he did it. saying nonsense about how he was too old.

all you could do is cry.

and even though he sent a car for you, you couldn't dare to get inside and to smell his cologne all over. yet the driver continued to follow you… making sure you got home safely.

no part 2.

[darnell-la]

can we get some nsfw of logan heavily infantilizing reader? i know he's a mean mean man and i want him to make us cry 🥺 just wanna be doted on but also fucked like a beast

note: Logan is a very nasty individual in this story. He’s degrading, calls the reader out of her name many times, fucks rough, is manipulative, possessive, and more…

having Logan Howlett claim you are one of the best-given things that could happen.

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“You’re so fuckin’ childish, y/n, do you know that!? So fuckin’ childish!” Logan shouted at the girl as he placed her into his passenger seat. The man slammed the door in her face before walking around to the car.

Y/m scoffed as she crossed her arms, knowing she was wrong for what she’d done tonight, but at least she had fun.

Logan treats y/n like she has no idea what the world is like. Wade speaks to him, telling him he should take it easy because is his friend. Not Logan’s.

“Well, if I’m gonna stay in an apartment with two kids, I expect them to have manners and respect. If not, then I’m out of here,” Logan threatened a few months ago when he first got here.

Y/n had come home drunk out of her mind at three in the morning after Logan and Wade had been worried all night.

Her phone had died. She explained that to them, and Wade understood, but when she came through that door smiling, laughing, and giggling with the friend who dropped her off, it triggered Logan.

“I know pay the bills, and the apartment is his, but I’ll kick you the fuck out, kid,” Logan threatened as he got into the car and started it up, ready to get home and rest without stressing about y/n.

“I’m a grown woman, Logan. If I wanna go out and get drunk with my friends, I can!” Y/n turned towards the man just to yell before turning back towards the door, looking out of the window.

“What kinda fun is that, y/n? You’re a college student, you’ve got classes in the afternoon, you need to study, but instead, you’re out almost every weekend, pissy drunk and begging for a man to touch you,”

“What!? I don’t even go out with men! I reject them all,” y/n said, confused about why he even cared about her getting with anyone.

“Sure you don’t. Every time I pick you up or you walk through that door, you’re dressed sluttier. Every fucking time!” Logan yelled, hands groping the wheel as he drove through the city to head home.

“At this point, you’re just stressing yourself out. Let me live my life like I let you, okay? Fuck!” Y/n complained.

“So slutting around is living life now? God, you kids are fucking dumb,” Logan shook his head. “I don’t slut around!” Y/n basically screamed at the man.

“Lower your fucking tone when you talk to me, young lady!” Logan looked her way. The anger in his voice made her back up, trying to keep a straight face, but it was hard.

“Always fuckin’ yellin'. Can you ever shut the fuck up for once? Just do better in life and shut the fuck up — Grow up! Because you’re a-fucking-nnoying,” the man got out.

Y/n looked out of the window in silence, holding back her tears as the man continued.

“Be a fuckin’ lady, and respect yourself for once. For once!” He hit the wheel, making the girl jump. “Respect me!” The man hit the wheel again, but harder.

Y/n wiped a tear from her cheek quickly so he wouldn’t notice, but he did. Once he did, the man laughed to himself. “Unbelievable,” the man shook his head, disappointed in her.

“You can yell at me, but when I start yellin’ and tellin’ you what you look like, you start carrying. Fucking pathetic. Seriously!”

Logan didn’t mean to hurt the girl's feelings. He was just angry. He hated seeing her out and doing things he didn’t want her to do. Why can’t she just listen to him? Why does she need other people to make her happy when she has Wade and him at home.

The rest of the car ride was silent. Y/n wouldn’t sniff here and there, but low so she wouldn’t start Logan up again. She was embarrassed and disappointed in herself.

Right as Logan parked the car, y/n pulled on the handle to get out, but he had locked the door before she could.

“Looks y/n-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off. “Let me out,” y/n said with a stern voice. “Y/n, just hear me out-“ he tried to say again. “Let me out!” She yelled, not even looking at the man.

“Hey!” Logan reached for her arm and grabbed it tightly. Y/n tried yanking herself away, but he was stronger. “Let me go!” Y/n yelled, only angering the man further. He had become obvious to the strength he had.

“Ow, Logan!” Y/n shouted at the man, but all he did was grip harder. “Stay still, y/n!” Logan demanded. “You're hurting me!” She finally said as tears streamed from her eyes.

The way she looked at the man in pain, not just from his grip, but more so from his words. Looking into his eyes, he realized he had gone too far.

“Y/n,” Logan said low as she fought the man, slapping his hand, but he wouldn’t let go. He only loosened his grip. “Let me go!” She could barely yell, only cry.

Logan shifted his body and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. When he did, she tried shaking her head to get him off, but it wouldn’t leave.

“Please!” She cried, but Logan didn’t let her leave. All he did was let her arm go, only to push her seat back and hover over her quickly, the other hand still on her cheek.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Logan said, but she couldn’t stop. She sobbed as she weakly slapped Logan’s body, telling him to leave her alone, but that was the last thing he was going to do.

“Baby, look at him — It’s okay, just look at me,” Logan said as he placed the other hand on her other cheek, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, okay? I’m sorry,” Logan spoke. That was when y/n cried harder with no words. “Aw, baby,” Logan said, trying to wipe her tears away, but they kept rolling.

“All I wanted was for you to be safe, baby. That it. It’s dangerous out here. You can’t just be goin’ out every night, looking the way you do. You just can’t,” Logan said.

“If you wanna drink, we got it at the house. You know that. No more goin’ out, and you won’t look like this anymore,” he said, hoping to manipulate her into staying in the house, and in his sight.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Logan said and kept repeating until she ducked in her cries. It took her a while, but she managed.

“Please understand that I want you safe, y/n. Do you understand that?” Logan asked. Y/n slowly nodded her head with a sniff, making him smile slightly.

“That’s it, baby. All I want is for my baby to be safe — No more goin’ out after tonight. Maybe with me, but I have to be by your side. It’s too dangerous,” he said.

“B-But my friends,” y/n sniffed. “They’ll be fine, baby. They love you and will understand. You want me to trust you and not be stressed out, right? You want me to be? I’m gettin’ old, and ion needa be stressin’ about my girl,” Logan said.

Y/n nodded her head, halfway understanding what he wanted, but not fully. She didn’t ask though. She just knew by the way he always acted that he wanted her in sight and safe with no funny business.

“Good, baby, good,” Logan said, looking into the girl's eyes as she looked back up at him, eyes bloody and eyelashes batting.

“You’re too pretty to be seen without me, baby, and you know that, don’t you? Don’t you, baby?” Logan asked, making her nod again.

“That's right, and you're sorry for disobeying me, right?” He asked. The way he spoke to her, made her feel like she’s actually done something wrong.

“S-Sorry,” she said low. A groan slipped past the man’s lips at her words and voice. She was too sweet to believe she was real.

“Ah huh, and are you gonna show me just how sorry you are?” He asked. Y/n surprisingly nodded quickly, wanting him to know that she meant nothing personal by the way she lived.

“Good girl — Now turn around for me,” Logan said. Her mind wasn’t honking straight, but she did as told, apologizing for her body rubbing on his as she did so. “It’s okay, baby - You’re all good,”

“I’m just a little angry, and you understand that, right? It’s acceptable to why I am, right, baby?” He asked her, making her him with a nod.

“Ah huh, and you’re gonna help me relax, right, baby?” He asked and she repeated what she had done before, but more shaky. “That right,”

Logan began unbuckling his belt, watching the girl underneath him shiver from how drunk she was, the cold air coming through the cracked window, her crying session, and the confusion of this situation.

“Never listenin’ to me, baby. I don’t like that,” Logan said before giving y/n a hard slap on her ass that was covered in her tight thin dress. A whine had slipped from her mouth, only making the man groan.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna bring all this anger right out on and into you, baby,” Logan said as he pulled himself out. “And guess what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna lay here, and take it like the disrespectful little slut you are,”

Y/n whined at his words, feeling shitty for not being respectful towards the older man, but she’ll soon understand to listen.

“Every time I pick you up or watch you walk through those doors, you’re fuckin’ soaked. I just know you’re out and about, waiting for some random man to offer his cock,”

“I know you’re whore enough to take it too, now ain’t you?” Logan asked. “N-No,” y/n shook her head with a whine as he pulled her dress up, revealing her dark wet patch.

“Sure you’re not, baby. You know the drunk sluts always say that, right? Until they’re caught being stuffed and fucked in some bar bathroom,”

Y/n whined again at his comment about what he thought of her as his fingers hooked around her pants. The man pulled his fingers back, causing the panties to rip perfectly.

“You wanna be treated like some dirty slut at the bar?” Logan asked as he put his cock in his hand. “No,” y/n truly spoke, but he didn’t believe her.

The man grabbed a handful of her hair and then pushed her head into the seat. “Are you sure, baby? Because you’re gonna spreading in my passenger seat just like them club whores,”

Before y/n could say anything, the man laughed into her, forcing his huge length through her walls, knowing she would barely be able to take him.

“Logan!” Y/n cried out loud, voice crazy as she gripped and clawed at the seats. “Nah uh, you shut the fuck up!” Logan spat through his teeth as he leaned over and into the girl's ear.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, I know you want this. You always do. Comin’ back from the fuckin’ bar all soaked and full of attitude. I just know you rub that shit in my face,”

“I fuckin’ know you come through those doors wanting me to fuck your drunk ass through my mattress,” the man snapped his hips hard.

“Oh yeah? Can't take it?” Logan asked as the young girl cried in pain and pleasure. “S-Sorry, sorry,” she quickly whined as she back arched.

“No, you’re fucking not. You’re only sayin’ it now because I’m fucking this cunt dumb,” Logan growled in the girl's ear as he tugged on her hair.

“Slutty fuckin’ cunt - Grippin’ me like she ain’t been fucked in the club already,” Logan said, making the girl shake her head.

“N-No,” she managed to say. “Oh yeah? You’re tellin’ me no man has been in this cunt at the club? Fuckin’ you silly in the bathroom as you pass out from the liquor?” Logan asked.

He had already known the answer, but he was angry. He wanted to get everything out. If he could smell how wet she was every weekend, he could smell a man on her, and thankfully for her, he never has.

“N-No,” y/n whined as she came around him without warning. He hadn’t cared that she soaked his leather seats. All he cared about was how could he could fuck he’d. Maybe if he fucked he’d be good enough, she wouldn’t dare leave the apartment again.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You don’t let another man touch you. Never!” He pounded, knowing the wind out of her with every thrust.

“I swear, if you do, baby, ima kill him. Ima fuckin’ kill him then lock your ass in my room,” Logan threatened, only making y/n moan.

“My fuckin’ cunt — Mine! All fuckin’ mine and you know it. You’ve been known it, Bub, and because you wanted to play games, I’m gonna teach you what the fuck happens when you do,”

Logan took the seatbelt to the car and tied it around her wrist after pulling them man. The man soon continued his anger by slamming into her until she cried, begging him to stop.

He was rough, but y/n knew deep down that she deserved it. She was disrespectful and didn’t listen to him. He should get what he wants.

“You're mine, right, baby? All mine to use like those I want at the bar and club?” Logan asked as y/n could barely keep herself conscious. “Y-Yes,” was all she could get out.

“That’s my girl,”

[cherryredcheol]

"ducky"

tldr: all the way joshua uses your nickname a/n: i like this one (⸝⸝๑ ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝)

whispers: when he’s trying to gossip 

“ducky” you barely hear him over the music inside the venue, party in full swing around you. you are watching the dance floor, amused by watching your friends act like fools, but you can never ignore him; so you turn around to face him, confused as to why he’s speaking so softly in such a loud place. when your eyes meet, he smiles at you, full of love. only when you raise an eyebrow does he remember why he came up to you in the first place. 

“he’s is sleeping with her best friend. i just found out.” he continues to whisper, despite the music being almost deafening. your eyes widen to saucers, unbelieving that he actually got confirmation of a rumor that had been floating around about some friend of a friend’s sleazy boyfriend. you’re about to ask how he found out when–

“in fact: he's sleeping with her roommate too.” your mouth gapes, this was not something you’d heard before. You can always count on him to tell you the good tea. when people told him not to tell anyone, it never included you. he told you everything. “what do you think about that, ducky?”

shouts in the mic: across an empty stadium 

“everybody, welcome to the stage: ducky!” the venue was empty of any carat, thank god. you only wanted to visit him at the venue before caratland the next day, knowing this would be your only opportunity to be up on the stage with him. he’d been asking you to come by so he could show you what it felt like. he wanted to show you the lights and let you experience this part of his life. 

“don’t be shy now, you were excited about this!” he teased, without the mic, when you reached him on the large stage. your eyes widened when you looked out over the stadium. the sheer number of seats was so intimidating, and to think of the seats filled with bodies was incomprehensible. 

“here, hold the mic.” he passed you the white, bedazzled mic. it was heavier than you expected. you could see your arm getting tired holding this thing to your mouth for too long. you looked over at him, unsure of what to do next. he raised a brow at you, gesturing for you to, “sing something for me, ducky.”

echoes: just to see you blush

“ducky, ducky, ducky!”  he was so happy to see you walk through the door of seungcheol’s apartment. they had all been waiting for you to start the movie queued up on the screen, at his insistence. you loved movie night with his fellow 95s and he knew you’d like the movie they’d picked to watch. 

“how was your day, ducky?” he got up from the couch to greet you properly, overusing the cute petname just to see you flush, knowing it made you embarrassed around his members. he lived to tease you, to see your coloring change, and the little crease between your eyebrows appears. he loves it. 

“oh, ducky, i hope it was good.” he wraps his arms around you in a hug, clinging tightly. he hated being apart from you, even if it was just for your shift at work. movie night was always something he looked forward to, all his favorite people in one place. he leans to whisper in your ear, “i’m so happy to see you, ducky.”

garbles: after too many shots

“ducky” he slurs, the music in the bar so loud you can barely hear him. you’re chatting with mingyu, but you feel him tug on your shirt sleeve. you excuse yourself from your conversation and turn to see him, eyes droopy and a dopey smile on his face. you’d been apart for about 20 minutes and you knew he’d come back to you all gooey and lovey. 

“come home with me. i’ll call the car.” he was glued to your side, arm around your waist, head buried in your neck. you could’ve stayed out a little longer but he wanted to leave and he was being so sweet, how could you tell him no? agreeing to leave and go home with him, his face lit up. he whipped his phone out of his pocket.

“will you order the car? i don’t think i can see straight.” he held his phone out to you, confident you could do this for him. his only focus in this moment was getting even closer to you he looked like he was about to fall asleep, eyes closed, head on your shoulder. he turned his head, pressing s gentle kiss to your shoulder, “thank you, ducky.”

sing-songs: when he gets home

“ducky~” he called out to you, knowing his voice would carry through the apartment. and sure enough, moments later he heard your quick steps across the floors, hurrying your way to him. he took a moment to pry his shoes off, not wanting to track any dirt inside. he was so preoccupied, he didn’t notice your steps had stopped. standing up from his bent position, he jumped slightly, finally seeing you, a smile stretching across his face after the initial scare.

“i missed you.” he reaches out to you, wanting to hold you in his arms after a few weeks apart. he loved his job, but leaving you behind was like a knife in the heart every time. this tour was fun but he longed for you the entire time he was gone. he held back some tears as he stood with you in the entryway to your apartment, rocking gently back and forth. 

“i am so happy to be home with you.” you could tell he meant it, hear the emotion in his voice. he rocks you a little longer and holds you a little tighter, not wanting the moment to end, to be separated again. you respond in kind, tightening your arms around his waist, burring your face deeper into his chest. “next time you’re coming with me, ducky.” 

[joelmillerisapunk]

unbelievable

mechanic!Joel x f!reader

masterlist

wordcount: 4,489

summary: the 'It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?' Trope

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, lots of fingering, there's a joint, lots of 'sweetheart', some aftercare but like a bit different (I don't wanna spoil it) mentions of anxiety (bc I'm an anxious bltch and this would happen to me) fluffy smut?

notes: hiii 🥰 I hope you like mechanicJoel because I fell in love with him so fast, he has no right being so hot 🙃 The title is unbelievable by diamond rio, it felt pretty accurate to my inner Joel dialogue. a big thank you to @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics for the dividers (graphic designers deserve the world honestly)

You've always had a thing for rugged men, and Joel Miller is the epitome of a handsome, rough-around-the-edges mechanic. His strong hands, grease-stained clothes, and confident demeanor make your heart race every time you see him, which has been a lot recently since your old car has been having its fair share of problems.

It's a hot summer day, and you decide to visit the garage where Joel works, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. As you walk in, the smell of oil and gasoline fills your nostrils, making you feel a little lightheaded. But then, you see him. He's hunched over a car engine, his muscular arms covered in sweat and grime. Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him.

You approach Joel, trying to act cool and collected, even though your insides are turning to jelly. "Hey, Joel," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was wondering if you could help me with my car again. It's been making a weird noise, and I don't know what to do."

Joel looks up at you, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of grease on his face. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he says with an almost knowing grin. You've been coming to see him every couple of weeks for the past few months. "Let me take a look for you, darlin."

As Joel inspects your car, you can't help but steal glances at his muscular physique. You imagine what it would be like to run your hands over his firm chest and his stomach, to feel his stubble scratch against your skin as he kisses you. The thought makes you wet, and you squirm, trying to hide your arousal.

But Joel notices. He looks up at you, his gaze intense and seductive. "You seem a little flustered, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "Is there something on your mind?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your nerves. The heat in the garage is making you feel more and more flustered, and the idea of Joel noticing your arousal only adds to your embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," you manage to reply.

Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your shirt clings to your body and the way your nipples are hardening under the hot conditions. "I can tell you've been coming to see me for a while now. It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?"

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your face. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammer, trying to deny the truth even to yourself.

But Joel isn't backing down. He steps closer to you, his body towering over yours. "I can help you with your car, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low growl. "But if you're looking for something else, something a little more personal, I can do that too."

Your mind is racing as you try to figure out what to do. On one hand, you've always had a thing for rough-and-tumble men like Joel, and the idea of being with him is almost too much to bear. On the other hand, you're not sure if you're ready for something like that with someone you're not even dating. As you stand there, frozen in indecision, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Joel continues working on your car, he takes his time, making sure to do everything a little slower. He runs his hand over the engine, and with every turn of the wrench and every adjustment of parts, you can't help but feel your heart race, your skin tingle, and your body heat up. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans that hug his thighs, and every time he bends over the car, you catch a glimpse of the outline of his bulge. You wonder what it would feel like to touch him there, to feel him hard and ready against your skin. Your mind races with fantasies of him taking you, claiming you, making you his in ways that go far beyond the mechanical fixings of a car.

Joel takes a bit of a break from your car, and you think he's about to tell you what was wrong with it. "You know, sweetheart, I could fix more than just your car," he repeats himself again, " I could fix all your problems, make you feel good in ways you've never felt before."

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "What do you mean?"

Joel grins, a knowing look in his eyes. "I mean, I could show you the kind of fixings that only a man like me can provide," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Make you mine, take you right here. I promise you, it's something you'd never forget.”

“Oh, uh I, uhm I need to -” You pause, looking at your phone, “I have a thing soon. So I should uh go when you're done.” You can barely keep yourself together as you fumble through your sentence.

Joel smirks, "Of course, sweetheart," he says, his voice reassuring. "When you're ready, I'll be here.”

As you exit the garage, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through your veins. Joel's words have left you feeling both turned on and terrified at the same time.

You spend the next few hours trying to shake off the encounter, but your mind keeps wandering back to Joel's words and the way his body made you feel. You can't stop thinking about the way his muscles bulged under his tight jeans, or the way his hair curled, his strong jawline, or the way those lips would part everytime he would focus on your car. You want to touch him, taste him, feel him- anything. And you're desperate to hear him speak that sexy accent of his once again.

When you finally arrive home, you let yourself into your apartment and immediately head straight for your bedroom. You shed your clothes as fast as possible, trying to rid your entire day from your skin. After your shower, you pull on a pair of shorts, your favorite oversized t shirt before padding barefoot across the carpeted floor of your room.

Just as you're opening your bedroom door to get a snack, your phone rings. You glance at your screen - a number with no name showing up - before answering the call, your heart pounding in anticipation. “Hello?”

You can hear a woman's voice in the background, "I told you not to come in my office. You can't just call random clients." Then you hear a muffled males voice and the woman again. "Yes... I understand she hasnt paid, but we don't contact clients until the end of the month."

You sit there unsure of what to do, should you say something? Should you hang up? Should you ignore her? Suddenly, you hear yelling. "Out - now!" she exclaims before apologizing for the misunderstanding and hanging up the phone on you. As you hang up the phone, you can't help but feel a sense of confusion and disappointment wash over you. You had been hoping that it was Joel on the other end of the line and that he was calling to follow up on his earlier proposition. But instead, it seems like you were caught in the middle of a heated exchange between a man and a woman, and you can't help but wonder what it all means.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You know that you can't let yourself get too caught up in the idea of Joel. You need to focus on yourself and your own needs rather than getting swept up in the allure of a man you barely know. You've got plenty of people who love you, and it's better to prioritize your relationships than get carried away with a man like Joel. You know you wouldn't be able to handle it.

But then suddenly here you are. You take a deep breath and steel yourself as you walk back into the garage, hoping to catch Joel before he leaves for the day. The receptionist gives you a disapproving look as you enter, but you ignore her and make your way towards Joel, who has just finished up with a customer. As you approach, Joel looks up and sees you, a small smile spreading across his face. "Hey there, sweetheart," he says, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I, uh, I had some questions about my car," you say, trying to sound casual. "I figured I'd come down and ask you in person."

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods towards the back of the garage, inviting you to follow him. As you walk, you can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt or the way his jeans hug his hips. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and you hope he doesn't notice.

Once you're in the back, Joel crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a serious expression. "Listen, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I know what you're doing, and I want you to know that it's not going to work."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Joel takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean that I know you're trying to avoid what's going on between us," he says, his voice softening. "And I get it. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around." You open your mouth to protest, but Joel holds up a hand to stop you. "But I also know that there's something between us, something real and intense," he continues. "And I don't want to ignore it anymore."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "What are you saying?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel takes another step closer to you, his body almost touching yours. "I'm saying that I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel good, to show you things you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as you try to process what Joel is saying. On one hand, you're terrified of the intensity of your feelings for him so soon, of the way he makes your heart race and your skin tingle. On the other hand, you can't deny the attraction you feel towards him, the way your body responds to his voice alone.

As you stand there, frozen, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

You know that you have a choice to make, a decision to make about what you want and what you're ready for. And as you stand there, looking into Joel's beautiful brown eyes, you know that you're ready. Without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips to Joel's, feeling the heat and passion of his kiss. Joel responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You can feel the strength and power of his body. As Joel deepens the kiss, he reaches down and gently lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you over to a nearby workbench. He sets you down gently, cupping your face in his hands, "Be right back, sweetheart, don't go anywhere.”

Just as Joel turns to lock up, the receptionist calls out, "Joel, she can't stay here. She's not an employee."

Joel turns to her, his expression stern. "I'll take care of it, Linda," he says. "Just go home."

Linda looks taken aback, but she doesn't argue. She grabs her things and leaves the garage, shooting you a disapproving look as she goes.

Once she's gone and the doors are locked,Joel walks back over to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He pulls a small joint out of his pocket and holds it up for you to see. "Ever tried this before, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You shake your head, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "No, I haven't," you admit.

Joel grins, lighting the joint and taking a deep drag. He holds it out to you, his eyes locked on yours. "Here, let me show you," he says.

You lean in, taking a tentative puff on the joint. The smoke is harsh and unfamiliar, but the sensation of Joel's hand on your back, guiding you, is intoxicating. You feel a warm, tingly sensation spreading through your body. He pulls back, his eyes shining with desire as he takes another drag. "You like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to speak. You've never smoked weed before, but with Joel, it feels right. It feels intimate and exciting, like you're sharing a secret that only the two of you know. For a while, the two of you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away, like you're the only two people in the entire world, and it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

But eventually, the joint burns down to nothing, and the two of you are forced to come back to reality. Joel grins, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his lips are soft and gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the warmth of the weed spreading through your body, making you feel relaxed and happy.

As you kiss, Joel's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and the swell of your breasts. You moan softly, your body responding to his touch. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I want to make you feel good.” You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. You want him too, more than anything. You want to feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin. You want to feel him inside you, filling you up and making you his.

Joel's fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. He tosses it aside, his eyes raking over your body. You're wearing a lacy bra, the color of pale pink. Joel's fingers trace the lines of your bra, his touch gentle and teasing. You can feel your nipples hardening under the lace, your body begging for more.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," Joel says, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to taste you." With a quick motion, he removes your bra, throwing it to the floor.

He leans in, his mouth closing over one of your nipples. His tongue flicks at the hard peak, making you gasp with pleasure. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, his fingers tracing the lines of your lacy panties. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's fingers find the edge of your panties, tugging them aside. His fingers trace the outer lips of your pussy, his touch gentle and teasing.

Joel's fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you with ease. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. He starts to move his fingers inside you, faster, his touch more urgent. You can feel the orgasm building inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, so fuckin' tight," Joel growls.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel's fingers continue to work their magic.

And then, suddenly, you're there.

You cry out as you come, your orgasm ripping through you like wildfire. Joel's fingers continue, drawing out your pleasure until you're left weak and trembling in his arms. “S'okay baby, s'okay, you did so so good for me sweetheart.”

As your orgasm subsides, Joel pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes dark with desire. He licks his fingers clean, his tongue tracing the lines of your juices. You watch him, your mouth parted like you just watched him lick the tastiest ice cream cone.

Joel reaches down, his fingers finding the button of his jeans. He undoes it, tugging his jeans down over his hips. He's not wearing any underwear, and his cock springs free, hard and ready.

You can't help but stare, your eyes wide with desire. Joel's cock is long and thick, the head dark and swollen. You can see a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, and you can't wait to taste it. Joel steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your thigh. You can feel the heat of it, the hardness. You reach out, your fingers wrapping around the shaft. Joel groans, his head falling back as you start to stroke him. You can feel his body trembling, his cock twitching in your hand. You stroke him faster, your hand moving up and down the shaft. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, tugging your panties off in one swift motion.

You're completely exposed now, your pussy on full display. Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his cock throbbing in your hand.

"Fuck, you look so hot," Joel growls.

You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Joel, it feels right. It feels exciting and thrilling, he reaches down, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub, his touch gentle and teasing.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" Joel asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to speak. "You're so fucking hot,," Joel growls. "I can't wait to taste you."

He drops to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your inner thighs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's tongue finds your clit, gentle and teasing. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel's tongue moves lower, tracing the outer lips of your pussy. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside you. You can feel him exploring his tongue, tracing your walls. Joel's fingers find your clit again, rubbing in time with his tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, m’gonna come," you cry out grabbing onto his hair.

Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing, his eyes don't leave yours, it makes him almost painfully hard watching you come. You cry out as you come. Joel's tongue continues to lick at your pussy, drawing out your pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart," Joel growls, standing up.

He steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your entrance. Joel's hands find your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. "You ready for me sweetheart?

"Yes, please, Joel." He pushes inside you, his cock filling you up completely. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting against you. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you with every stroke. Joel reaches down, his fingers finding your. You can feel your body trembling, your pleasure building higher and higher.

"Fuck, Joel, I'm gonna come again," you cry out, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his fingers moving faster. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with pleasure until you come again. Joel's thrusts become erratic, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. He groans, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills you with his seed.

The two of you lie there, panting and sated, your bodies still tangled together. Joel's forehead is pressed against yours, his eyes shining with desire and affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the beating of his heart against your chest.

"You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment. But even as those thoughts run through your mind, you also know that you can't let yourself get carried away. You barely know Joel, and there are things about him that you don't know. Important things.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you know you have to do. "Joel, I... I need to go," you say, your voice soft but firm.

Joel's expression changes, a hint of sadness and disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Suddenly, the walls feel like they're closing in on you, and you can't catch your breath. "I-I can't breathe," you manage to say, your voice shaking.

Joel's face falls, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Just breathe with me, in and out. You're safe, I've got you."

You focus on Joel's voice, trying to match your breathing to his. Slowly, the panic begins to recede, and you can feel your heart rate returning to normal. "I'm so sorry," you say, your voice still shaking. "I don't know what came over me."

Joel shushes you, his hand tracing circles on your back. "It's okay," he says. "You don't have to apologize. You've been through a lot today. It's okay to feel overwhelmed."

You nod, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You wanted to be strong, to be brave, but instead, you fell apart.

Joel must sense your embarrassment because he pulls back and looks at you with a serious expression. "Hey, listen to me," he says, his voice firm. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're allowed to feel however you feel, and I'm here, no matter what. Okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding, even for someone who knows nothing about you and you can't help but feel drawn to him.

"Come on, sweetheart," Joel says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here and into some fresh air. How about we go to my place and spend the night? I promise, no funny business."

You know it sounds crazy but a sense of relief washes over you as you agree. You don't want to be alone right now, and the thought of spending the night with Joel is weirdly comforting. As much as you know, you should probably just go home. Joel helps you get dressed, his hands gentle and reassuring. Once you're both dressed, he leads you outside and into his truck. He drives you to his house, his hand resting on yours the entire time. When you arrive, Joel leads you inside and shows you to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers and helps you climb into bed, tucking you in like a child. "Just rest, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft. "I'll be right back."

You nod, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you. Joel returns a few minutes later with a glass of water. He helps you sit up and take a sip of water, then lays down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's soothing, and you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you, Joel," you murmur, your voice sleepy.

Joel kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Anytime, sweetheart," he says. "I'm always here for you."

As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

As you sleep, Joel watches over you, his eyes full of affection and concern. He's fallen for you, hard.

As the night wears on, Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you. He knows that you're not ready for anything serious, and he's okay with that. For now, he's just happy to be with you, to be there for you, to comfort you, and to make you happy.

[lacroixqueen]

knee deep in the passenger seat of the honda odyssey (18+, deadpool x reader)

Summary: you and wade are on a ~secret undercover mission~ in a honda odyssey and smut ensues obviously

Pairing: annoying deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: car smut, dubcon, noncon, rough, stakeout

Fun Fact: first car I learned to drive in was a honda odyssey

You were stationed just on the outskirts of a busy beach boardwalk on a hot summer day. For some godforsaken reason, your boss decided to pair you up with none other than Wade himself on a stakeout mission. Your target was supposed to be the leader of a major corporate crime ring out on vacation with his family. The only description was that he was 5’6, looked like an average father, and was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt. 

That being said, you were fully prepared for being here all fucking day. 

Wade also brought up the brilliant idea of renting out a blue Honda Odyssey so that it will “look more believable” and “help us blend in” with the “American middle class”. 

Also, this entire mission, he has been unable to keep his eyes or hands off of you. It was annoying, really. He was so goddamn needy.

You were perched on the backseat, elbows placed on top of the armrest so you could peer out the window with your binoculars. 

Deadpool was laying on his side on the car floor, happily munching on a bag of snacks he stole from the convenience store earlier.

“If you are going to be here, can you at least help keep watch,” you said, unphased as he continued to crunch loudly on the concerningly neon yellow chips.

“And miss out on this view? No thank you!” he replied, wit as sharp as ever. He giggled pervertedly to himself as he admired how the bright yellow sundress you had on accentuated the curve of your waist and the arch of your back. And how the sunlight poured through the window just right so he could see the contour of your hips and thighs perfectly. He liked the way it glinted off your long hair that cascaded over your neck and shoulders like water. He could watch you forever like this. You were like a Renaissance painting to him. 

“You know, I don’t understand why you even agreed to come in the first place,” you mused to yourself. “Like, are you really that bored? Don’t you have anything better to do besides pestering me.”

“And miss out on an opportunity to spend the entire day with Y/N?” he chuckled. “You underestimate my priorities. Besides, being an absolute menace to you and people in general is one of my life’s greatest joys! It’s like snorting cocaine off a drag queen’s ass for the first time in a gay bar. You just can’t get enough of it. Only.. it’s better. And more sustainable!”

“You are unbelievable,” you scoffed. “Also, I highly doubt you are cool enough to do that.”

“You don’t know everything about my life,” he bantered back. “Besides, when was the last time you ever went out?”

“I go out!”

“No you don’t.”

“Whatever.”

“Or.. I have an even better idea. I can take you out,” he suggested, embellishing his request by blowing you a kiss and breaking out the jazz hands.  

“In your wildest dreams, Wade,” you muttered, sitting down on the back seat and cleaning the lenses of your binoculars.

He saw this as a challenge to move closer to you, kneeling at your feet like he was your lap dog. “Aw come on Y/N, don’t be like this,” he begged, placing his gloved hands on top of your knees, gently massaging the sides of your legs with his thumbs. “I know you like it when I give you attention.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Wade. I’m just here for the job. Nothing more, nothing less. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to-”

“Oh, but you are not excused,” Wade cooed, softly prying your legs open so you were beginning to spread apart, much to your dismay. “You see, wearing a sundress on a hot summer day, and on a beach boardwalk nonetheless, is easily the sluttiest thing someone can do.”

“You aren’t exactly the one to slutshame me,” you snapped back. “Aren’t you the one sleeping with a different person every night and then forgetting their name the next morning?”

“That’s not true, I’m a virgin!” Deadpool protested as he dipped his head underneath the hem of your skirt. “I’ve never given myself to anyone before.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing,” you said. “H-hey what are you even doing down there?”

You could feel his leather-covered fingers slyly dancing over the fabric of your panties. 

“Oooh, I like this one a lot!” he beamed, tugging at the lacy waistband of your underwear. “Yellow stripes! And those cute little bows too. Y/N, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Where did you even get something like this? Victoria’s Secret? No, too bougie. Target? Oh, I know I know. Shein.”

“Can you please stop?!” you exclaimed, trying to push him away, but he was holding onto your thighs with an iron grip. “We are working right now and in public for God’s sake. I always knew you were indecent but this is genuinely taking it to another level.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So it is Shein.”

You decided to ignore the accusation. 

“Relax, Y/N,” he whispered, pressing his index finger onto the outline of your clit and rubbing over it in teasingly aching circles. “No one can see us. We are parked far enough away. Also, who would even suspect anyone is getting laid in a Honda Odyssey? And if they do, I’ll just tell them I was doing your annual pap smear out of the goodness of my heart. Or better yet, just let them watch! I mean, it’s a boardwalk for crying out loud. People are here to be entertained!”

“You are ridiculous,” you sighed, ultimately giving him the upper hand without even realizing it. You leaned back into the headrest, trying not to overthink even though your mind was beginning to race. 

You felt him pry your panties to the side, and squeeze onto the sides of your labia between his index and middle finger. The smooth sensation of his leather glove running over you was enough to elicit a soft cry from your lips. This only encouraged him more. 

You whined as he slowly spread your labia apart with his two fingers, causing you to stretch and twitch. You could feel yourself losing, giving in to him. It was a part of yourself that you were not necessarily proud of, but knew would eventually fold to his antics. 

“Why are you so tight..” he mused to himself, retracting and then spreading his fingers, over and over again to entice you. “Like this has got to be a world record. I doubt I could even fit a needle in there.”

“Wade!” you cried. “If you’re going to go through with this, can you at the very least shut the fuck up for just once in your life?”

“Aww, she’s being so mean,” he cooed, ignoring you altogether. “Wouldn’t you agree? She’s being such a bad girl.”

“Yes, she’s being just awful!” he said in a high-pitched voice, contorting your pussy as if to pretend it was talking back. “You should really teach her a lesson for acting this way.”

“Ugh, thank you so much for always having my back,” he replied. “See? Even she agrees that you are being unreasonable!”

You were beside yourself at this point, forfeiting the battle and just gazing fondly out the window, allowing the sun to shine over your face. 

He poked his head out from underneath your dress just in time to catch this moment. 

“You know, you really are very pretty Y/N,” he commented. “Like, as in, I could absolutely see you on the cover of a magazine or a movie poster. Something classy. But not too much where it feels overdone, like those car commercials where the models are spraying themselves with a water hose. Just. Demure, you know?”

“Just shut the fuck up and eat me out already,” you replied, visibly annoyed at this point. 

Wade obediently dove back under your skirt, lifting up the bottom of his mask and blowing hot air gently onto your clit. He planted a soft kiss over the top of it, ensuring that both of his lips fully engulfed your most sensitive part. He smirked to himself when he noticed your legs instinctively resting themselves over his shoulders. 

You sighed as you felt his tongue flicker mischievously over your warm petals, his thumbs rubbing the divots of your inner thighs like they knew exactly what they were doing. He kissed every part of you so carefully and thoughtfully, as if he wanted to make sure you felt taken care of. His gentleness pleasantly surprised you, as you were unsure he was even capable of being so delicate. 

You felt one of the straps of your sundress slowly beginning to slide off, as you lightly placed your hand on top of his head, encouraging him to go even harder. You tossed your head back when he pierced your hole with his hot tongue, softly saying his name over and over again in affirmation. 

He liked to tease you, occasionally slowing down for an extended period of time, only for you to say “Keep going! Why did you stop?” He particularly enjoyed watching you blush and become so frazzled you couldn’t even form a proper sentence while he went down on you. But he liked seeing you get exasperated and worked up when he purposefully paused even more. He loved to elicit every type of emotion from you with his tongue. It made him feel like he had power over you.

Next thing you know, he had you pushed up against the car seat, with your dress rolled up to your waist, pounding into you for what felt like hours. He liked to use the seatbelt to wrap around your neck, choking you enough so you could barely catch your breath. 

“W-Wade,” you stammered, wet pussy dripping all over the Honda Odyssey as he continued to ram relentlessly into you. From an outsider’s perspective, the vehicle was shaking very suspiciously. “We should.. probably.. get back to the mission..”

“And miss out on the big finale?” he asked, his hand gripping onto the curve of your waist. “Now why exactly would I do that?”

“B-because i-if we don’t, I.. we, the target..” you sighed, unable to string together a coherent thought because he was so damn rough you could hardly think. 

You yelped as he smacked your ass with enough rigor to shake the backseat. 

“Something that always bothered me about you, Y/N, is that you are always so worried about the stupid shit,” he muttered, sliding his hand over your backside to prepare to spank you one more time. “You never.” Slap. “Fucking.” Smack. “Listen.” 

“So when I tell you that you need to relax..” he continued, one of his hands reaching over and gripping the back of your neck. “You are going to relax. Okay?”

“Y-yes sir,” you stammered, gripping onto the shoulder rest of the back seat for dear life, as he began to increase his speed and intensity again. 

“That’s a good girl,” he said, smiling to himself. “Isn’t that right?” He tilted his head to the side as if to strike up a casual conversation with your pussy. “She’s being such a good girl, huh?”

He proceeded to mimic choking and sputtering noises. 

“That’s okay, I know you have your mouth full,” he responded, trying not to laugh too hard at his own joke. 

As he was about to push in even deeper, the walkie talkie in the front seat suddenly went off. 

“Hey, is anyone even there?” the voice called out. “We’ve been paging you for hours. I’ve got eyes on the target right now. Six o’ clock. Don’t fuck this up. Over.”

You both froze mid-motion, looking towards the front of the car and then once back at each other. Without needing to exchange a word, you both sprung back into action. Wade tossed you your panties and you quickly pushed your dress straps back on over your shoulders. You managed to crawl your way over to the front, since your legs were hardly functioning at this point. Sluggishly, you picked up the walkie talkie and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Heard,” you said wearily.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

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warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[l1tw1ck]

Newlyweds

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader

🕷️Word Count: 1,947🕷️

[Part One] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Menstruation (No Period Sex), Lingerie, Dom/Sub, Daddy Kink, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Impregnating, Mating Press, Lactation Mention, Praise Kink

Miguel wakes up with pain. A lot of pain. Along with discomfort and the familiar feeling and smell of blood. Of course he starts his period unexpectedly in your bed. Not only that but he has cramps and a hangover. Great way to start the morning. He hopes you at least have advil. He taps your shoulder and wakes you up.

“What's wrong?” You ask, noticing that it's still pretty early in the morning.

“I’m on my period.” He frowns. “Sorry…about your sheets.”

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault. Do you need anything? Food, meds, something hot?” You get out of the bed. Miguel shakily gets out as well.

“A shower would be nice…and some ibuprofen? Or advil?”

“No problem. Luckily for you, I have some pads or tampons you can use. I keep them for when family visits. Do you use a heating pad? I have one of those too.”

“Yeah, a heating pad would be helpful.” He nods. “I prefer pads.”

“Okay, go ahead and get in the shower, I’ll leave some clothes out for you to wear. Oh, and you’ll need to eat something too. Is there anything you prefer?”

“Whatever you can make is fine.”

“Alright, I'll get everything you need. Take as long as you want in the shower.”

.....

Miguel gets out of the shower and walks into your room. The bed is stripped and the bloody parts are being soaked in a cleaning mixture. He hopes he didn't ruin your mattress. He looks at the pair of boxers you left for him and frowns. It's no surprise that you don't have any panties, why would you? But wearing pads with boxers isn't very….safe. It's a good thing the two of you are neighbors, he’ll have to ask you to get him a pair of underwear. He pulls up the boxers half way and applies the pad, praying that it’ll do the job, and pulls it up completely. He puts on your shirt, happy that it's big on him, and puts on the pair of shorts.

He walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hey..”

“Hey! There’s the meds.” You point to the bottle of ibuprofen and cup of water next to it. “I’m making pancakes. How do you like ‘em?”

“With butter and syrup.” Miguel looks at the medicine bottle and concludes that he’ll thankfully only have to take one. He hates taking pain medication because of the risks but they're unbelievably helpful. He sighs, putting a pill in his mouth and swallowing it with water.

“...Hey, at least you're not pregnant yet.” You smile sheepishly.

Miguel chuckles. “We should probably start planning for when I actually am pregnant.”

“Yeah…I’ll have to start packing my things soon, right? I don't want Gabriella to have to worry about moving her stuff here.”

He appreciates how you consider his daughter too. “That’d be the best way.”

“At least we're neighbors, that’ll make the process much easier.”

“That reminds me…can you…can you go to my house and get me a pair of panties? They're specifically made for periods…I have a box of period stuff in my closet, you’ll know it when you see it. I’d go myself but-”

“Don't worry about it, babe. I’ll get it for you. After you eat, you can go lay down in the guest bedroom, I already put the heating pad in there. If you want, I’ll pick Gabi up and bring her here.”

“Please. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You kiss his forehead.

Gabi walks up to your car, confused. “Why are you picking me up?”

“Your dad’s feeling sick so he asked me to come get you.”

“Oh. Is papá okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. He’s just on his period.” You nod. “Come on, get in.”

Gabriella grimaces, feeling bad for her dad. She gets into the backseat and buckles her seatbelt.

“So…What do you think about coming to my place and eating dinner with me and your dad?”

Gabriella grins. “Are you gonna cook?”

“Of course! Whatever you want.”

“Then…Can you make burgers? I haven't had a burger in soo long! Papá sucks at cooking and he thinks fast food burgers are made of rat meat!”

You laugh. “Sure thing. What kind of burger? And do you want fries too? I can make ‘em from scratch.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? I love fries! And I really wanna try a bacon cheeseburger!”

“You got it, Gabi.”

“You’re so good at cooking! I wish Papà could cook like you.” Gabriella wipes her face clean.

“Hey! I can cook just fine, Gabi!”

“Then how come we had to order takeout the other night because you made green goop?”

“Green goop?” You look at Miguel, grinning.

“It was supposed to be green, okay?!”

“Mhm~” You hum in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe I need to save Gabi from your horrible cooking.”

“Please! You guys should get married. Then you can cook us dinner all the time!”

You look at Miguel.

Miguel looks at you and nods. “Well…Actually, mija…”

She looks at him curiously.

“We are getting married.” He can't hide his happiness.

Her entire face lights up. “Really?!” She puts her game down and stands up. “Am I really gonna get an hermanito now?!”

“Yes, mija.” Miguel chuckles.

“When are you gonna order them?!”

“...Order?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know, go to the stork postal service and order a baby!”

You and Miguel look at her, dumbfounded.

“What?” She frowns.

“Mija…We need to teach you where babies really come from..”

After the horrifying explanation (which was actually very tame compared to the talk Miguel’s parents gave him), Gabriella accepted the fact that babies are in fact not delivered by storks. Miguel doesn't even know where she got that from.

Now she's started to see you as the second father you’ll soon become. Rather than using your name, she calls you dad. It makes you happy to know she's so accepting of you as her father. She invites you to her soccer games and school events and of course you show up to everything you can. She loves that she has two parents. It's so comforting to see the two of you in the bleachers while she's playing. And now it's a lot less likely for her to be alone at events. If Miguel’s working, you usually show up and vice versa.

And of course she’ll be the maid of honor at your wedding. She’s almost more excited about the wedding than the two of you are.

Miguel walks down the aisle, holding a beautiful bouquet of red and blue roses. He looks gorgeous. You can't wait for your honeymoon.

He walks up to you and gets into place.

“You look beautiful.” You smile at him.

“Thank you..” He replies, bashful.

You’re lost in Miguel’s beauty for the entire ceremony, only paying attention to when it's time to exchange rings, say your vows, and say “I do.”

You go in to kiss Miguel, sad that you can only peck him on the lips. You don't want to traumatize all the children with a french kiss. You pick him up and carry him bridal style.

“Do you wanna stay?” You ask.

“I wanna make our baby.” He says.

You nod and start running towards the jet you rented. Everyone in the crowd watches in shock as you abandon the wedding. Miguel throws his bouquet and a ton of people scramble to grab it. Thankfully for you two, Gabriella is staying with her grandparents so you can escape to your honeymoon without worry.

Miguel walks out of the bathroom, dressed in a beautiful lingerie set. A red lacy bra and panties along with matching stockings with garters to hold them up.

You hurry over to him. “You look amazing.” You grope his ass and give him a soft kiss. “Lay down.”

Miguel gets onto the bed and lies down, waiting for your next move. You grab his thighs and kneel in front of the bed, pulling him close to you. There's a gap in his panties for easy access. You press kisses along his thighs, occasionally sucking and biting them. You move to his pussy, pressing a kiss against his erect t-dick. He twitches in response. You bring it into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.

“Fu- fuck–” He moans, curling his toes. He throws his head back and gasps as you start sucking him off while simultaneously slipping two of your fingers inside him. Miguel arches his back, moans getting increasingly louder as you finger him. “God yes–” He grins. “‘M gonna come-”

You pull away from him, still working his insides with your fingers. “What do you say, Miguel?”

“Pl- please~ please let me come, Daddy~”

“Good boy.” You go back to sucking on his dick. Miguel shakes as he squirts, drenching you in his pleasure. You lick up his slick before pulling away. “Tell me when you're ready.” You stand up and take your clothes off.

“I’m ready..” He moves backwards and spreads his folds with two of his fingers. “Please breed me, Daddy..”

You smirk. You climb onto the bed and align your length with his hole. Miguel watches intently as you slowly ease yourself inside him. The two of you watch as a bulge appears in his stomach the further you go in. “You're gorgeous, Miguel.” You run your hands up his body and grope his breasts. “You’ll let me get a taste once you start lactating, right?”

Miguel smiles. “Just a taste.”

You bring him into a deep kiss and inch yourself further inside him. Miguel gently moves his hips once he feels you bottom out, desperate to have you fuck him. You part from the kiss and move to his neck, lightly kissing his skin. “I love you.” You murmur before pulling away. You grab his legs and move him into a mating press. Miguel barely has time to process what you just did thanks to your sudden and rough thrusts. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your skin, and moans loudly as you properly breed his pussy. He can barely keep his eyes focused but just glimpsing upon your aroused expression makes his heart race even faster. It perfectly displays how much you love him and how good he's making you feel. He happily listens to your breathy words of praise and your low sounds of pleasure, falling deeper in love with you as the two of you completely tie yourselves together forever. He’s never been happier.

He already feels himself reaching his orgasm. “‘M clo- oh- close~!” He cries out. “Fuck-” He gasps, suddenly coming. He digs deeper into your skin when he feels you slow down. “Don’t- don’t you dare stop-” He almost growls at you. You take that as a warning and resume your previous pace. He manages to stay sane even as you continue to fuck his sensitive cunt, all for the sake of feeling you impregnate him. Just that is enough to give him strength to keep going.

“You're doing so- so good, Miguel.” You let out a low sound of pleasure. “Such a good boy for me..”

He moans happily.

“And you feel so fucking good..” Your breathing becomes more labored. “Making me come so fast with your tight pussy-” You groan, stopping as you fill him up with your first load of the night. He feels euphoric as your cum invades his insides.

“More…” He looks up at you with the cutest expression.

“I won't stop until I’m shooting blanks, baby.”

Miguel grins. He can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you and your kids.

[monster-disaster]

[elf] Everen

elf!Everen x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: Your boss demands you to go after him into the woods.

For long seconds, the ringing of your phone seems unreal and far away. It needs time to break through your dreams, and when it does, you can't help but groan into the darkness of your room. You are disoriented and confused. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating on the nightstand next to you. The bluish light of the screen illuminates the ceiling. It blinds you for a second as you turn on your back and grab the small device. You have to force yourself to stay awake even though tears gather and escape from the corner of your eyes because of the sudden light. You can barely see the picture of your boss with his name at the bottom. You groan again.

"Mad?" His voice breaks the silence of your room. You can see him frowning on the screen. His thick, almost white brows cause a deep wrinkle between them. "It's me," you croak out. You don't even have enough energy to react to the stupid nickname he gave you years ago. Reaching out for the small lamp, you turn it on. "Did I wake you?" You glance up at the clock in the corner of your phone. It's almost one o'clock. "What do you think?" "You look like shit." "What do you want, Everen?" You ask him impatiently. Your voice is still hoarse with sleep but more steady and strict. "I need you to come here." Long seconds pass in silence before you snap. "What do you want now?" "I'm going crazy here," he says, looking around wherever he is. The only thing you can see behind him is a window with curtains. "You can't be serious," you breathe out your frustration. "You are barely there for twelve hours." "So?" You groan. "Then come home!" "I can't," he argues. "I need this." "Then why do you want me there?" You snap at him again. "You are my personal assistant, no?" He asks. "You have to do what I say." Your resignation is at the tip of your tongue, but you gulp it down at the last moment. "You are five hours away, Everen. You can't be serious." "Do I look like I'm joking?" He asks back. You don't even have to look at him to know he is not joking. You are not even sure if he can do that. "You can be here by the morning." You have to close your eyes to keep your calm. "I arrive when I arrive!" "Fine," he grunts, and you end the call.

Fucking unbelievable!

You met Everen when you finished college. He needed someone he could order around, and you needed a job to keep a roof over your head. It was a match made in hell.

The elf writes fantasy. And he is good at them. Really good. He is popular, and his books are bestsellers. Everen is lucky his personality doesn't show on the pages. He is headstrong, mean, and spoiled. Most of the time, you feel like a babysitter.

At first, he only used you to get him coffee, do his shopping, and keep in contact with his publisher, so he didn't have to. As the years went by, he asked for, or demanded, help with his stories. Read them and give them your honest opinion. Point out the mistakes and drag down his ego. Well, he didn't ask for the latter, but you like to do it nonetheless. Besides the salary, this is the only perk of your job.

After sleeping for a few hours more, you pack your things and begin your journey to Ironridge.

Everen decided to turn his back on the city when two months passed without him writing anything. The elf is sure he only needs some solitude and nature to clear his head and finish his book in time. There are two problems, though: he hates being alone, and he has no survival skills in nature, even though you know there is a town just a ride away, and he has a perfectly good cabin in the woods.

"What?" You ask him when you get out of the car, and Everen just stares at you without a word. He sits on the porch with a mug in his hands. "You are here," he states, and you freeze. "You asked me to come, remember?" Gods, if he says he wasn't serious you will kill him. Nobody knows you are here, and the forest is big enough to hide his body. Everen scoffs. "Of course, I remember!" "Good," you nod, grabbing your things to take them into the house. As you stop next to him in front of the entrance of the cabin, you notice what he wears. His boots are too new and useless for the woods, and his jeans are too tight to be comfortable. The red flannel shirt is something you never thought you would see on him. "You look ridiculous," you tell him before disappearing into the house.

The place is small. There is barely enough space for a kitchen and a living room with a couch and fireplace. The bathroom and the bedroom are next to each other at the back.

Oh, right, where are you going to sleep?

"The couch is comfortable," Everen says from behind you.

Right. Of course.

"Always a gentleman."

After putting down your things and grabbing a mug to pour yourself some coffee, you turn your attention back to the elf. "So, what did you do yesterday?" You ask him. "Did you write something or go for a walk?" He looks at you like you are crazy. "For a walk? Outside?" "Yes," you nod, and when the expression on his chiseled face doesn't change, you groan. "Why are we even here if you don't go out?" "To be close to nature." You will kill him. Nobody will know. "Next time just by a fucking plant!" "You are not really nice," he states. "Did you sleep enough?" For seconds, you just stare at him without blinking. "I wrote a few pages yesterday," he adds when he decides to change the topic for safety reasons. "Do you want to read it?" "Do you want to show them to me?" There are times when Everet is really cautious with his work, and despite your odd relationship with him, you don't want to make him do things he doesn't want to. His books and his career are really important to him, and you respect them.

Without saying anything, the elf nods at the laptop on the couch, and you sit down to read it. Long minutes pass by while you focus on the screen, and Everen walks back and forth behind you. His platinum-blonde hair is tied back with a leather stripe. The long, straight locks almost reach his slim waist.

"Holyshit," you break the silence. The elf stops and leans over the back of the couch to see the screen in your lap. The pillow behind your back sinks under his weight. "So?" He asks urgently. "What do you think?" "Since when do you write erotica?" "The publisher told me to spice things up," he explains. "He says it's popular." You frown. "Your books are popular." Everen shrugs. "Is it really that bad?" "It's so dry," you tell him. You can see he doesn't like the publisher's instructions, either, so you try to be nicer than usual. Now you understand why he got stuck with his book. "And you used "member" at least twenty times. It's not a rock band, Everen, it's a dick." You don't even have to look back at him to know he is offended. You just notice it from the way his breathing changes. "Can you do better?" "I mean…" you shrug. "I could give it a try." You are not a writer and don't want to be one, but you can clearly see what's wrong with his work. "Then be my guest," he says. "Do your best."

You spend the next few hours on the couch, adjusting and changing things you don't like in the scene. The only noise in the small cabin is the keyboard's clattering as you write. Sometimes you hear Everen do something in the house, mostly making coffee after coffee. He is lucky elves don't tend to get heart attacks.

"Are you writing a whole book?" He asks impatiently. "I didn't ask you to change the whole book." Rolling your eyes, you push the laptop onto the couch from your lap to stand up. "I'm done," you tell him. "Read it if you want."

While your boss busies himself with the book, you go out with another drink to enjoy some peace and fresh air. You feel even more tired than you arrived. You settle into the rocking chair Everen used when you arrived. The wooden floorboards feel solid beneath your feet as you rock back and forth ever so slowly. As you sip your coffee, your gaze wanders into the woods. Towering trees sway gently in the gentle summer breeze. The sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the lush greenery. The air smells like pine, damp earth, and wildflowers, mixing with the coffee in your hands. Birdsong fills the quietness, a symphony of chirps and trills.

Usually, you prefer the loud business of the city, but if you have to be honest, this is good too. Your only problem is…

Everen almost bursts out of the house. His handsome face is cold and strict. Something burns in his eyes, but you don't recognize what.

"How did you do this?" He demands for an answer. You shrug, sipping from your coffee. "I have a soul." Everen's frown deepens. "I have that too!" "I don't know what to say," you reply. "Did you do that before?" "You mean writing a sex scene?" You ask. "No." "No," he shakes his head. "The scene itself." You almost laugh. "Of course I did." A light blush spreads across his cheeks, and a nagging feeling starts to eat the back of your mind. "You didn't?" His blush deepens. "Does it matter?" "I mean, no," you reply. "But it's really… vanilla." "For who?" "For me? And for a bunch of other people?" "Well," he grunts. "I want it too." You freeze. The swaying of the chair under you stops. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," you break the momentary silence after a while. The words leave your lips slowly and carefully. "I want you to sit on my face," he says. "How hard can it be?" At the word hard, your gaze falls down on the obvious bulge between his thighs. Seeing his erection trapped in his jeans, the new shine in his dark eyes suddenly makes sense. "You got horny because of…-" you point back at the cabin. Surprise shows on your face as your brows draw up in shock. "So what?" He acts like an upset kid. "I'm just surprised you feel anything besides anger," you tell him. Everen just grimaces. "You are funny." His snarky comment makes you think of his request again. Or demand. "So?" He asks impatiently. "Are you coming?" "You mean, right now?" "What do you want me to do? Take you out to pick berries?" He waves at the forest surrounding you. How many times did you imagine shutting him up since your work for him? You can't even count it. "Fine," you grunt, standing up from your seat. The chair creaks at your sudden movement.

Anything to shut him up finally.

"So, what do you want me to do?" He asks when you lead him to the bedroom. It's a mess. His clothes are all over the place, poured out of his bags, and the blanket is halfway down on the ground. "Well," you grunt, looking around. "You could clean up." He stares at you. "You are really wild in bed." "Just shut up!" "Make me!"

Fine!

"Then take off your clothes," you tell him. "Will you do it too?" He asks, staring to unbutton his shirt. You feel glad when the flannel falls off his shoulders. It really did look horrible on him. "Do you want me?" You ask him. "Naked, I mean." "How will I eat your pussy otherwise?"

Maybe this is a good step. Both of you get over the awkwardness first, so you can move on and enjoy whatever happens next. And still. You feel nothing but impatience and excitement. Your gaze rakes over Everen's naked body. Over the line of his shoulders, the light muscles on his chest and abdomen, and the V line that leads you to his cock between his thighs. He is tall and lean. His posture is confident as he stands beside the bed, watching you. His eyes burn your skin as he looks over you. Your nipples harden into small peaks under his heavy stare. "Are you still angry because you had to come here?" He breaks the silence. The elf doesn't even try to hide the fact that he can't tear his eyes away from your breasts. "Just lay down."

When he does as you say, for once, you are ready to climb up on him when a question stops you. "How do you want me?" You eye his erection. "Do you want me to suck you?" A pained grunt escapes the back of his throat. His cock jerks under your gaze. "I take it as a yes," you grin, getting into position with his hands on your thighs. Everen's long fingers squeeze your flesh, urging you to hurry up. You hover just beyond his reach. His warm breath fans over your wet center. "What did you not understand?" He asks after a few seconds. "I said, sit!" And with that, he pushes you down on his face. You don't even have a chance to keep your balance under his tight hold.

Your moans mix in the quiet room as his tongue licks over your pussy. Everen nibs and sucks on you, exploring your aching wetness. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you down even more. "Everen!" You cry out his name in shock. His tongue slides through your pussy, lapping at your juices. His face is already soaked. His senses are filled with your taste and scent. He breathes you in, driving himself to delirium. Your thighs shake at the sides of his head. You try to keep your balance, rocking into him and grinding your pussy against his face. You aren't even sure if the elf under you can breathe, but at this point, you don't even care. Your chase your own pleasure, and the only thing that can keep you afloat is his cock not far from you. It twitches every now and again, and pre-cum runs down on his shaft and a bluish vein under the soft, pale skin. Licking your lips, you lean over his chest. Your nipples graze his upper body.

A dissatisfied grunt vibrates over your pussy, sending shivers up your spine when you lift yourself up from his face. "I didn't tell you to move," he grunts. A breathless grin spreads across your face. "Are you sure?" Your fingers curl around his cock, smoothing up and down on his length. "Fuck!" Everen growls, pulling your back onto his lips. His hips thrust up to fuck your fist. "If I had known I could shut you up like this, I would have done it sooner," you tell him, still grinning. Your words are airy, but the snarkiness still rings clearly. Everen says something you don't understand, and the next moment, a startled cry escapes your lips as your world spins with you in the middle. He finds your entrance. He laps at the juices flowing from your pussy before his tongue plunges into your hole. Your legs quiver at the new feeling. Your muscles twitch and flex as your boss pushes you higher and higher. Your hand around his cock is sloppy. You can barely focus on anything besides his tongue in you. Your walls flutter and pulse around him as he fucks you. Both of you are soaked with your wetness and his saliva. "I'm going to cum," you cry out when you feel the first spasms in your lower abdomen. It strikes through your body, sending stars behind your eyelids as you press yourself even more firmly against his face.

You cum, and he licks up everything you have to offer. And he doesn't stop even when you try to get up. "Oh, no," he growls with a deep laugh. The rumbles shake through your sensitive, throbbing cunt. "I'm not done with this pussy yet." He doesn't let you move. He doesn't let you escape. "Oh, fuck! Everen!" You are so busy with your own body you don't even notice your grip on his cock tightening until you feel him jerk and cum in your hand. His hips push up even more, and his moans and groans shake your body. His tongue strokes into you, licking deep. He devours you with a newfound elan, and you can do nothing but grind against him until you feel your orgasm approaching again. Your breathing gets ragged, mixing with cries and screams. Your over-sensitive pussy sends you over the edge within a few minutes.

When your mind clears a bit, you are already on the bed next to Everen. His hand shamelessly gropes your tits, and his hard cock nudges your thigh. His breath is warm on the curve of your neck. "Have any other ideas for the book?"

- Masterlist Ironridge Masterlist Patreon

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Hot To Argue

masterlist

summary: dean’s mad you were reckless during a hunt, but your lips just look so damn kissable!

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.1k

warnings: just funny fluff really, language, talk of sex, mention of death/injury

The ride back home to the bunker was awkward to say the least. Dean was furious at you, but you didn’t understand why. You had saved his life a mere two hours ago! He should be grateful!

“Want any music?” Sam asked, hoping to break the tension. He turned on the radio but Dean instantly shut it off.

“No music,” he grumbled, Sam rolling his eyes and letting out a frustrated huff.

“You understand this is fucking stupid, right?” Sam laughed a little.

“Thank you!” you chipped in.

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their fucking pie holes!” Dean exclaimed, his grip on the wheel tightening with anger.

“It’s cake hole, dumbass,” you muttered.

“What’d you say?” Dean whipped his head around as Sam reached for the wheel.

“Eyes on the road, this shotgun is precious cargo!” Sam exclaimed.

“Y/n what you did was stupid and dangerous.” Dean turned back around and focused on the road. “You will sit back there quietly and really think about just how fucking stupid it was.”

“Stupid?” you scoffed. “Fuck you, Dean, I just saved your life and this is how you repay me?”

“I said shut your god damn mouth before I stop the fucking car and make you walk home!” he shouted.

You didn’t dare say anything else. You knew he was bluffing, but he was furious; so there was a small possibility he’d stop the car and walk home himself just to get away from you.

Sam awkwardly glanced at you in the rear view mirror, a compassionate look behind his stoic face. Every so often, Dean looked at you through the same mirror, just to be sure you were still alive and your stupid move back there hadn’t gotten you killed.

When Dean parked Baby in the garage and you all stepped out, he gripped your upper arm gently and pulled you with him to your shared bedroom.

“If you wanted to have angry sex, all you had to do was ask.” You smirked, but your expression changed when you saw his face. He was still angry. Furious, outraged, all the synonyms.

“Y/n I am so unbelievably mad at you right now stop trying to weasel out of having this very serious fight!”

“Dean-”

“No!” He pointed a finger at you. “What you did back there was stupid, reckless, and downright idiotic! You could’ve been killed trying to stop me from getting barely injured!”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not gonna apologize, Dean. What I did was make a quick decision about risking my own life to save yours. I didn’t even end up getting hurt for fucks sake! Calm down!”

“You don’t even see what you did was wrong!” he yelled. He put his hands in front of him and tried emphasizing his point. “You could’ve fucking died back there and it would’ve been my fucking fault!”

“No, if I died it would’ve been one-hundred-percent my own fault, Dean. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know that now, but if things had gone differently you know damn well I would’ve blamed myself!” he said, his voice still raised and his hands in front of his chest, his palms facing you.

“Can you stop doing that with your fucking hands, please?” you exclaimed with anger.

“The hell are you talking about? I’m not doing anything with my hands?”

You gripped both of his wrists and brought his hands about six inches forward, colliding them with your boobs. His angered expression instantly became one of pure shock.

“When you put your hands like that all I can think about is what you’re doing right now,” you told him. You shoved his hands off of your chest. “Put them behind your back or something.”

He put his hands behind his back, “That’s not fair,” he scoffed.

“Why not?”

“Well cause when you pout your lips all angrily all I can think about is this!” He bent down and kissed you, pulling back after a moment. “Now keep those gorgeous lips between your teeth or something so I can stay mad at you!” You did as he asked and sucked your lips in to form a thin line.

“Your lips are kissable too you know,” you said, distorted due to the fact you couldn’t use your lips properly. “You have to do this too!”

He mirrored your expression and sucked his lips in. “Stop sticking your chest out!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are! Whenever you’re angry you puff out your chest and it makes your tits look incredible so just turn around so I can’t see them!”

You rolled your eyes and turned around. “Happy?” you scoffed.

“No, I’m still fucking mad at you!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, this isn’t working for me cause now all I can think of is you fucking me from behind. Turn around and keep yelling at me for being a good person and saving your god damn life!”

He turned around, “You were being stupid, Y/n and you know that!” There was a moment of silence.

“You know your hands are now brushing my ass?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled to himself. “God, we’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

“You’re just realizing this now?” you laughed a little. “We really are stupid though. I mean here we are fighting because I was reckless, and we’re so hot for each other we have to argue back-to-back?”

“Ah-ha! So you admit you were being reckless!” Dean said, you rolled your eyes.

“Yes, Dean and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being reckless, but I am not sorry for risking my life to save you.”

“Y/n-”

“Dean, if you had gotten killed and I could’ve saved you, I would've never forgiven myself. I would die for you any day of the week, you know that.”

“Can I turn around now?”

“You sure you want to? You’re still touching my ass,” you chuckled.

Dean turned around as you did the same. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“I love you so much, Y/n,” he mumbled.

“I love you so much, too.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his torso. “You can put your hands a little lower, Dean I know you want to.” He didn’t waste a second and moved his hands to rest on your ass.

“You’re incredible, Y/n. Thanks for putting up with all my stupidity over the years.”

“You too, Dean. Thanks for mirroring my stupidity enough so I don’t feel like a complete idiot.”

“You’re very welcome.”