#but lately i have to go out there and physically grab her

[13uswntimagines]

Weight of the Sky (Alessia X Leah X Reader)

Summary: No one knew why you left the United States and stopped accepting call-ups to the senior team. Only the important people were informed that it had to do with your treatment by the coaching staff. But some reporter got ahold of the story, and a report that was never supposed to see the light of day. How do you deal with everyone suddenly knowing your deepest, most shameful secrets?

Warning: This fic deals with how people process trauma. There’s implied abuse, but nothing explicitly described or explained. Again, systemic abuse (physical, mental, and verbal) is what is dealt with in this fic, specifically how someone might deal with it (in healthy and unhealthy ways).

It wasn’t something you talked about. 

It wasn’t something you liked to think about. 

The people who were important to you knew something had happened. They knew why you stopped accepting call-ups to the senior USWNT a year ago, why you had fled the NWSL, and why you were so adamant about never stepping foot on American soil again. 

You didn’t feel the need to explain it to anyone else. To open the dark box you had buried so deeply so long ago. To rip apart the fragile stitches you so carefully constructed over your wounds. 

But as you stared down at the headline, it looked like you wouldn’t have a choice. 

Scandal set to dismantle US soccer: reports of rampant emotional, physical and sexual abuse at both the youth and senior level 

You didn’t want to read it. 

You wanted to shove your phone back in your bag and join your team out on the pitch like nothing had ever happened. 

It had worked for you so far. 

But the way your phone was buzzing told you that it wouldn’t work for you this time. 

That arriving late to practice so you had the locker room to yourself wouldn’t be the out you prayed it would. 

It was one of the best and worst qualities of the team you had left behind. Their stubbornness, especially when someone’s well-being was on the line. 

They wouldn’t give up when you had been the baby of the USWNT for so long with your first call-up coming at 16. 

It didn’t matter that you barely answered them most of the time now. 

With both you and Foxy playing for Arsenal, you knew that Alex, or Kelley, or Alyssa, or Becky were not above calling Kim or Jen to sort you out. 

To force you to face the thing you had run to Europe to escape 3 years ago. 

The things you had never told them about. 

“Have you read it yet?” You blinked up at the voice of your fellow American, as Emily sat down beside you.

“Just the headline,” You sighed, tossing your phone into your cubby and grabbing your cleats. “I’m pretty sure I already know what it’s going to say,”

You could feel her eyes on the side of your face, trying to peel back the impenetrable mask you always used to cover your emotions. You had known Emily long enough for her to be able to see past it. To decipher the barely visible tells littered across your features. 

You could feel the pity in her gaze, and it made you want to puke. You didn’t want it. You didn’t need it. 

“I didn’t know the details,” Emily said, her voice a pained whisper. 

It wasn’t that Emily hadn’t known about the abuse. She was your longest friend, one of the people who you had shared nearly all of your soccer experience with. She knew that things had happened, but you always breezed over it. You didn’t give out specifics. You didn't need to be viewed as one broken toy. 

You made a low noise of agreement. “That was by design,” 

She caught your arm, and you finally looked at her. 

“Y/n,”

Concern accented her blue eyes, and desperation lingered behind her irises. It was an unspoken question. 

A why that rang clearly. 

“It was better for everyone,” You muttered, finishing the knot on your boot and pulling the 2nd one up, answering the question she hadn’t asked with words. 

You knew she would have fought for you. She would have stood up to the people you had been too afraid to. It was safer if she didn’t know the full extent of what you had endured. If the complaint you had lodged was the only record of it. 

You wouldn’t put anyone in the firing line. Especially not her. 

“Did Leah and Alessia know?” She asked, so quietly you barely heard it. 

Or maybe it was just the blood pounding in your ears. 

You blinked at the question, looking away from the defender. 

Of course, your girlfriends knew, but they didn’t know. You had never gone into depth about your experiences in the youth system. You never detailed how it had followed you like ghosts until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Until you broke under the pressure. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell them. To let the words out during a million late-night chats over tea with Leah, or when you were so comfortable laid out in Alessia’s chest, her nails dragging up and down your back. 

They made you feel truly safe for the first time in your life. 

You didn’t want to give them a reason to not want you. To realize you were too… damaged to love. 

You cleared your throat, your cleats clicking in the concrete as it hit the floor. “You better get your boots on. We’re going to be late,” 

You didn’t wait for her response before you pushed yourself to a standing position, and headed out onto the field. 

You hadn’t spoken to your girlfriends since the article came out. You had spent a very rare night in your own apartment, ignoring their texts, and the calls that had followed. 

You were surprised they hadn’t staked out your apartment this morning, or been waiting for you when you arrived (admittedly late) to practice. 

You understood that you couldn’t ignore them forever. You didn’t want to. 

You just wanted enough time to gather your thoughts. Time to figure out how you were going to explain it all to them. You just wanted 3 hours of peace, before you would have to face reality.

Before you would have to finally deal with Pandora’s box. 

You snorted to yourself as you reached the locker room door. 

At least Pandora’s box had held hope with all of the bad things. Your box held nothing but pain and agony. Memories that had burned and sizzled the happiness you had finally regained. 

Experiences that were like bubbling acid, destroying everything they touched. 

You didn’t want them to destroy the word that you had rebuilt for yourself. 

You wanted to pretend for just a bit longer that you weren’t a poison that could only hurt the things you loved. 

Pretend like you weren’t about to lose everything. Like they hadn’t realized how… unworthy you were of them yet. 

*****

You felt eyes on you the second you stepped onto the pitch. Like tiny lasers, following your every step. Your every breath. Like they were waiting for you to break down. 

And for the most part, you ignored them. 

You painted your signature easy smirk across your lips and joined the midfield warmup line behind Kyra. It was also coincidentally the line furthest from your girlfriends. 

You focused on the drill, watching as Lia expertly weaved through the cones, the coaches passing her a ball every 3 cones to send into a mini-net. It was easy to let your mind sink into the familiarity of soccer. 

The field had always been your happy place, even when coaches were running you into the ground. It was a place where all that mattered was your skill. Your ability to ignore physical discomfort and pain to run circles around your teammates. 

It was why you lasted so long under Rory Dames, Paul Riley, and the rest of the USWNT coaches. They couldn’t break you on the pitch. Pain only fueled you. 

It’s what had driven them to… other methods. 

You pushed yourself through the line drills, forcing your legs to move faster, and your feet to take shorter touches, driving the pace of the midfield line higher and higher. 

“You know this is just warm up right?” Kyra panted as she made it through the final drill, both hands behind her head. “We still have an entire practice to go,” 

You shrugged, grabbing a water bottle and squirting a bit in your mouth as you waited for the other lines to finish. “Just feeling it today,” 

“Don’t feel it too hard though,” She said, side-eyeing you, trying to sound casual. “Pushing yourself won’t make it better,” 

You blinked at her, and the uncharacteristic seriousness in her voice. The young Australian was the last person you expected to read the article and then try to confront you about how you dealt with it all. 

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, squirting more water in your mouth. 

“Never said you weren’t,” Kyra said quickly, stealing the bottle from your hands, briefly glancing over your shoulder. “But you don’t have to be if you don’t want to be,”

You nodded stiffly. 

You knew that if you wanted to fall apart the team, and your girlfriends would be there for you. 

But you didn’t want to. 

It would make it real instead of just the bad dream you had convinced yourself it was. 

“I just want to play football,” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m over everything else,” 

Kyra hummed, her serious look shifting into an impish grin as she flipped the bottle towards you and squirted you with water. “Heads up,” 

“Must you always be such a pest?”  Leah’s voice appeared behind you before you could think about what Kyra meant, her arms wrapping around your middle and her chin resting on your shoulder. “Hello darling,”

Shivers ran down your spine when her lips pressed into the sensitive spot just below your ear, and your body tensed unsure if it wanted to sink back into her or flinch away. Your skin crawled in a way that it never had in her embrace before. 

You shoved the feeling down. 

It was ridiculous. 

Uncalled for. 

Not real. 

“Hey,” You said, painting a smile on your face and forcing yourself to relax back into her familiar hold.“The forwards aren’t finished yet?” 

“They were on their last drill when we finished,” She said, loosening her grip so you could turn to face her. “Less will be happy to see you. She missed you last night,” 

You noted the worry lines on her forehead and the crinkle between her eyes. 

You forced your lips to quirk upward into a teasing smirk despite how heavy it felt. “Just her?” 

“You know better my love,” Leah hummed, her blue eyes searching your face and her thumbs running over the skin under your training top just above your waistband. “We were worried about you,”

You could hear the honesty, the concern in her voice. The unspoken questions lingering in the air between you. 

“I’m ok,” You said, meeting her eyes. 

It was the truth. Right now, with the pitch under your feet, you felt alright. 

You felt almost normal. 

She nodded once. “Ok,” 

You appreciated that she didn’t press you. Didn’t point out the obvious cracks in your perfect mask. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape their probing later, but at least now she let you be. 

“You’re still coming home with us tonight?” She asked, her voice still soft, and you swallowed hard. 

Jonas blew the whistle just as the forwards finished their last line drill, calling the group to circle up before you could answer. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, gently extracting yourself from your girlfriend. 

“We should go,” You said, ignoring her question and the deep frown etched across her features. 

It should have bothered you how the knot in your chest loosened as you stepped out of her grasp. How your skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. 

Her and Alessia had always made you feel safe and it should have bothered you that Leah’s hands had reminded you of his. 

But you didn’t have time to be bothered. 

You pushed the feelings down again, forcing the lid on them shut. 

You hoped Jonas’ remarks would be short. That you could have the ball at your feet soon. That you could sink into the familiar peace soccer always brought you before any more emotions tried to force their way to the surface. 

A stupid article would not derail your practice. 

*****

You stayed at the edge of the group as Jonas explained the 3 on 3 drill he wanted you to do, watching his little whiteboard as he drew out the formations. 

It was easy to ignore the poorly concealed glances from your teammates (and Leah’s blatant staring). It was easy to force yourself to focus on the coach. 

It was easy to pretend your other girlfriend hadn’t edged her way over to you, her perfume surrounding you with the sense of peace you had been missing since the stupid article came out. Surrounding you like it had done since the two of you were at UNC together, and she was your anchor to reality, even when she didn’t know it. 

Alessia didn’t try to touch you, even as she leaned closer. 

“Be my partner?” She asked in a whisper, the words tickling your ear. 

You made a low noise of agreement, your fingers fidgeting at your sides. 

It felt like when you were in college again. 

Like every time you would come back from a national team camp, and have to reintegrate back into the team. How she would always inch over to you while Coach Dorrance explained drills. 

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings back then, and you had been convinced your heart and soul were too damaged to deserve someone like her. 

You thought her and Leah had finally unconvinced you. That they had finally washed away the feelings of hands you didn’t want and cracks that you feared could never be healed. 

You were wrong. 

When the news broke, you stared at the headline for hours. You were thankful that you had decided to spend the night alone for once. That your girlfriends were having a date night (something the three of you tried to do every once in a while) because the rush of uncleanliness that rushed over you and settled deep beneath your skin, leaching into your bones was unstoppable. It didn’t matter how raw you scrubbed your skin in the shower.

“Ready?” 

The nudge pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked at the blonde forward. 

You hadn’t realized that Jonas was finished, or that most of your teammates had already dispersed. 

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered, unsure of where you were supposed to go, or what you were supposed to do. 

Maybe you hadn’t been paying as much attention as you thought. 

Alessia’s lips tilted upwards, and she sent you a knowing smile. The one you hadn’t seen often since you were both in America. The one that used to greet you after bad camps and hard nights. 

“Come on then,” She nudged your arm with her shoulder again.“Steph’s our third,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

Why hadn’t she picked Leah as your third?

She always picked Leah. 

You were the one who liked to play against your defender girlfriend. She was always physical, and it never failed to get you worked up. 

Alessia liked to play with Leah. Their banter always wound her up. 

You turned, glancing at the Australian defender already collecting a ball. Frankly, you were just thankful it wasn’t Emily. 

That would remind you too much of your time at UNC. 

“Alright,” You nodded, swallowing hard. 

You had no reason to feel this… off balance. 

No reason to be thinking about the things you had escaped. 

Alessia’s head tilted to the side, watching you. “We need to make sure we kick Leah’s ass. She’s got Viv and Lea. It’s unfair,”

You hummed again. 

This you could do. 

You let your brain slip into the safe place where all that mattered were tactics and the ball. The safe place where all that existed was the pitch, and none of the other noise mattered. 

“We’re faster, and we can outmaneuver them,” You mumbled, letting her guide you towards Steph. “It’s the team of Beth, Kyra, and Katie I’m more worried about honestly,”

While Leah, Lia, and Viv were tactically savvy, you knew you could outpace them. They were defensive-minded, and you were far more used to being an attacking midfielder than Lia was. You would use their defensiveness against them. 

Beth’s team was much more balanced. Though Katie liked to attack, she was a damn good defender. Kyra could absolutely play as a box-to-box midfielder and Beth was a lethal striker. 

Alessia made a noise of agreement, her hand gently resting on the small of your back. 

The comfort didn’t send pinpricks up your spine like you thought it would, but maybe that was because you were talking about soccer. 

Whatever the reason, you leaned into it, accepting the familiar comfort. 

Yeah, you could do this.

****

“It’s scary to see her like this,” Leah breathed out, glancing towards the door to the showers. 

You had waited until the rest of the team finished before you disappeared through the doors, with a promise from Leah and Alessia that they would keep everyone out. 

Emily and Lotte both joined in their vigil, forming a little circle of sorts with their chairs just outside the washroom.

Alessia sighed, running her hand through your hair. “Reminds me of our junior year,” 

That year had been brutal. 

The two of you were growing closer, edging past the line of friendship into something more. At least you had been until you attended the USWNT World Cup Qualifying tournament. 

After that, everything changed. 

You pulled away completely and looked like a ghost. 

Your eyes dulled from clear to a murky y/e/c like your soul had been ripped out. You were basically nonverbal by the end of the spring semester. It was all Emily, Lotte, and her could do to make sure you ate and got to practice on time. 

She didn’t want to go back to that. Ever. And she didn’t like how similar this felt. 

How easily you had retreated back into yourself and put all of your shields back into place. 

“The year Paul was an assistant for the senior team,” Emily nodded, sharing a meaningful look with Lotte and Alessia. 

Leah frowned.

She was clearly missing something.

“She would come back from National team duty and look like a shell,” Alessia explained gently. “We knew something was going on, but not what it was,” 

“Or how deep it went,” Lotte added, her eyebrows pinched together as she looked back at the door. 

Emily put a gentle hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. 

“He was her coach for the U17 team too,” Leah said, phrasing it as a statement instead of a question. 

She had read the article, and the full report, unable to stop herself even as the words sliced into her heart like razor blades. It was line after line branding the horrors you had faced from age 13 into her mind, as the reporter described the abuse you and your teammates had endured in excruciating detail. 

The worst was the photo that he had included in the report. 

Three words were handwritten in font that was left on colorful sticky notes around your apartments, telling her and Alessia how much you loved them. Font that was on every card, every poem you wrote for them. 

Font that spelled out Help me, please. 

A plea that hadn’t been heard for years, until an anonymous source had sold the story to the New York Times. 

“Yes,” Emily agreed. “He used to push her so hard during practice and the things that would come out of his mouth were vulgar, but I didn’t know about the other stuff. She only told me they were extra film sessions to help with her game,” 

Leah snorted. “She told us they were tactics meetings, and that he would make her play games she couldn’t win. She never told us what the punishments were,”

“It was by design,” Emily said, using the same careful tone you had used earlier, shaking her head. “I don’t think she’s ever actually processed what happened. She was too busy trying to protect everyone else,”

“She was a child,” Alessia hissed. 

The article said you were 13. Just a kid. You shouldn’t have to protect anyone. They should have protected you. 

The system shouldn’t have failed. They shouldn’t have to deal with the catastrophic fallout. 

“So was I. So was Mal.” Emily bit back. “She didn’t want what was happening to her to happen to us, so she didn’t fucking tell us. We could have stopped it,”

Lotte held up her hands, telling both of them to calm down. “She buried her feelings so she didn’t have to face them,”

They weren’t angry at each other, she knew. They were both fixers and they couldn’t fix this. Just like they hadn’t been able to fix this while the four of you were in college. 

She was just surprised Leah hadn’t snapped yet either. She was the most protective over you, probably because it had taken you longer to fall for her than it had taken for you to fall for Less. 

“And now she doesn’t have a choice,” Leah said with an eerie sense of finality. Like the matter of fact bang of a gavel after a judge made a ruling. 

The stupid Times writer made it impossible for you to continue to ignore it. He made it impossible for you to outrun it. 

“She’s going to try to pretend it’s fine,” Emily sighed, meeting Leah’s eyes. There was something… haunted hiding in their depths that sent a shiver down Leah’s spine. 

“And then completely implode when she can't,” Lotte added, mirroring the haunted look behind Emily’s orbs. 

They had both seen you at your worst, and they feared they were about to get the sequel. 

Leah dragged her eyes from Emily to meet Alessia’s. 

They knew the struggle you had with your emotions, even the happy ones. The cycles you spent oscillating between locking everything inside and shaking in the shower because you couldn’t stop them from pouring out of you and you were afraid of what you would do. 

They all knew about it. 

They had all dealt with it at some point. 

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Leah promised quietly, again meeting Alessia’s eyes. “She’s coming home with us, or we’re going home with her,”

“She will not be alone tonight,” Alessia agreed. “Or ever again,”

The three other women hummed, before a comfortable silence enveloped them, broken only by the sound of the shower. 

They didn’t have to wait long before the water stopped, and then it was only a few minutes before you came shuffling into the changing room, dressed in one of Alessia’s oversized hoodies and a pair of Leah’s sweatpants despite the warm temperatures outside. 

You looked small. Fragile.

Leah pushed herself to her feet the moment she saw you, only refraining from pulling you into her chest when Alessia placed a gentle hand on her arm. 

She learned in college that physical contact wasn’t always something you enjoyed when you felt this vulnerable. 

“Ready to go Darling?”

Your head bobbed, and you held your hand out for Alessia. 

Leah tried not to let it bother her that you had bypassed her. She knew it was just because you were familiar with how Alessia handled you when you were like this. You knew what to expect from her, while Leah’s reactions were more of a mystery. 

You didn’t want any surprises.

Not now. 

Not when you were feeling so vulnerable. 

Alessia took your hand and pulled herself to her feet, while Leah grabbed all 3 of your bags. 

“Lead the way then,” Leah sent you a very soft smile, gesturing with her free hand. 

Your head bobbed again, and you headed for the door, not even acknowledging Lotte or Emily. 

You didn’t have the mental capacity to address them anymore. Practice had taken all that you had, and you just hoped you could make it through the night with your girlfriends. 

You honestly just wanted to curl up in your bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

Maybe they would let you for one more night. 

*****

Dinner had been… quiet. 

Frankly, most of their night had been quiet. 

An eerie silence seemed to settle over any space you were in, suffocating and heavy, unable to be broken even by a soft soccer game playing in the background. 

You seemed to be… sleepwalking in a way. 

Your eyes were open, but you were light years away, lost in exactly what thoughts they weren’t sure. 

This was much worse than when you were at UNC. 

But Alessia and Leah both resolved not to push you. 

They let you pull away from them both while you watched a random men’s game, cuddled into the far end of the couch. They didn’t press as you stared blankly at the screen, only chiming in when they directly asked you a question. 

With the way the night had gone, they weren’t entirely sure you would join them in bed, afraid you would choose to sleep in the guest room instead. Alessia knew if you did, they would be keeping watch outside the door in shifts. 

But you didn’t. 

You had crawled in between them, still dressed in sweats despite the high temperatures in the house. 

Things were again quiet while Alessia scrolled through her phone and Leah read her nightly chapter. You steered clear of touching either of them at first, glaring at the ceiling like it had personally offended you. 

Then you shifted. 

You rolled over slowly, pressing your face into Leah’s stomach. 

She lifted her book to give you space, carefully winding her fingers through your hair with her free hand. Her nails dragged along your scalp, and you were relieved at the familiar warmth and comfort that spread through your chest. 

You never wanted to associate her or Alessia with the feeling of him on your skin. 

It was easier with Alessia. 

She had been there to pick up the pieces after each camp. She had been on ground zero for the fallout. 

Leah hadn’t. 

You only knew Leah from the time you played against her. 

This was also different. 

It was like an army of souls you thought you defeated marching their way back through your mind, reigning old wounds, and ones you had so long pretended didn’t exist. They ripped apart the careful stitches you had used to pull yourself back together and pried open the covers you had placed on the things you could not face. 

This wasn’t a new wound. 

It was stupid that an article. Words. Had reopened the festering relics you thought you escaped. 

Leah turned the page above you, seemingly oblivious to the anguish pulsing through you with every heartbeat. 

But you knew she wasn’t oblivious. 

Her and Alessia had been watching you all day, trying to support you in their own ways. You knew they wanted to help. All you would have to do is ask. 

You made the decision before you could overthink it, rolling away from Leah and staring pointedly at the ceiling. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you both about what happened,” You said, your voice far more shaky than you thought it would be, and you felt the women on either side of you pause. “I just didn’t know how. I’ve never really known how,”

You didn’t look at them. 

You knew that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to talk about it. The words would get caught in your throat, and just like all of the other times you tried, you would be rendered speechless. 

“We know,” Leah said, her book closing with a low thump. “We’re not upset with you,” 

“We just want to understand,” Alessia added, setting her phone down on the side table. “The things in that article. It went on for so long,” 

Her voice cracked, and part of you longed to turn over and pull her into your arms. To tell her that it wasn’t that bad. To pretend, just like you always had. 

You swallowed hard. You couldn’t do that. 

They knew the truth now, and there was no escaping it. 

“I didn’t know what to do. There’s not exactly a recourse for stuff like this in America,” You explained. You needed them to understand that it wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to stop it. 

It wasn’t that you liked it. 

You were just powerless. One of many cogs in an outdated machine. 

Leah shifted, sitting up and turning to face you, sitting crisscross on the bed, a deep frown etched across her features. “Even on the youth teams?”

You shook your head. 

There hadn’t been anything you could do until you got to the senior team. Until a certain forward recognized the signs and had been so… stubborn and unrelenting in her support. 

“Alex helped,” You sighed., picking at the edge of your sweatshirt sleeve. “She got me to do the report and had Coach Riley removed. Apparently, I wasn’t the first, nor the last,”

You owed a lot to Alex Morgan. More than you would ever be able to repay. She had been the only one to know the true extent of the damage the coach had done, and she fought for you when you couldn’t fight for yourself. 

It’s why you felt so guilty when you left the team. When you left her. 

“It’s why she visited so much in North Carolina,” She said, rather than asking as realization brushed across her features. “Not because she wanted you to play for Orlando,” 

“She was worried, and my Captain at the time,” You mumbled, unable to help the way your lips turned upwards slightly at the mention of the old fight between you and Alessia. The fights about Alex taking a 2-hour flight to visit every weekend. The fight you knew now was centered around jealousy and fear that Alex was trying to get you to leave her.

Leah’s eyebrows pulled more tightly together. “If Riley was gone, why did you stop accepting call-ups?” 

“Vlatko was a lot like Paul. And Roary,” Your nose scrunched at the mention of their names. They left a terrible taste in your mouth. “He doesn’t understand player health and wellbeing. He told me to play on torn tendons in my ankle or risk my spot,”

Leah’s frown deepened as she tried to understand the full extent of what you had endured. “So you gave your spot up,” 

You nodded once. 

Your greatest regret in this whole thing was that you had given up playing for your country. Given up the thing you dreamed about for your entire childhood. 

“I was too tired to fight him too. Especially when I found places and people where I didn't have to fight at all. People who treated me like an actual human, instead of a playing card to be toyed with,”

You finally met your girlfriend's eyes, the weight of your words. The weight of the choice you had made was not lost on either of them. 

“And you carried the weight of it all on your own,” Alessia said, shifting and laying a gentle hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you from unraveling the hem of your sweatshirt sleeve. 

You shrugged. Sometimes you felt like Atlas, forced to hold up the sky, but it was better than being forced to watch the people you loved hold it. 

“You don’t have to do this alone. We’re here to help, but we can’t if you hide things from us,” Leah said, joining Alessia's hand on top of yours. “So no more secrets, alright?”

You bit your lip, finally nodding. 

Old habits would die hard, but you had to try. 

For them. 

Alessia squeezed your hand, and you turned, rolling over so your face rested in its favorite hiding place against her chest, and Leah shifted to spoon you from behind. 

The smothering sadness around you disappeared, driven out by comfortable silence your girlfriend's breathing, and the feeling of them pressed against you. 

There was something else nagging at the back of your mind. 

Something else you hadn’t been ready to face yet. 

No more secrets, you reminded yourself. 

“Emma called me last night,” You admitted softly against Alessia's chest. “she wants to talk at the game against Chelsea,”

The coach had been very polite in her voicemail, leaving an apology you knew she didn’t owe you, and suggesting that the two of you have a chat. 

Leah hummed behind you, lips brushing your ear. “Do you want to talk to her?” 

“She’s probably going to try to convince me to play for the US again,” You said, ignoring the question she asked you. 

“And do you want that?” Alessia prompted again. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell helplessly.“If anyone could convince me, it would be her,” 

“That didn’t answer the question sweet one,” Leah said again, pinching your side. 

You made a low noise, finally pulling your face out of its favorite hiding place. 

You knew what your answer was, and you knew that Alessia and Leah would support you. 

They would help you hold up the weight of the sky, and it would all be ok because you would do it together. 

Article and all. 

[spencerreiddddd]

Unfit, or fit?

I actually love this recommendation so much, hope you love it @ilovethepipecleaner !💋

Gist: Spencer and you had never really thought about having kids because you both grew up in broken homes, so what happens when you find out your expecting a little one.

You felt hands running up and down your stomach as you groggily opened your eyes.

A smile crept onto your face as you realized you were in your husbands embrace.

“Good morning Dr.” you said teasingly as you shifted onto your back to look at Spence who was staring at you hair askew and mess.

“Good morning Mrs. Reid.” He said as he bent down to give you a kiss, Spencer and you had been married for almost a year now and he still loved calling you by your new last name.

“We gotta get ready for work.” He said getting up from the bed and walking over to your shared closet. His statement causing you to groan, you wanted a few more minutes to stay in bed with Spencer but you knew serial killers don’t wait.

“Im coming” you said as you got up from bed joining Spencer in the closet.

You walked out the elevator hand in hand with Spencer as you made a disgusted face at the comment Spencer had made in the elevator talking about how many micro-organisms were currently on your face.

“You couldn’t give me any other statistic Spence?” You say with a disgusted face causing Reid to chuckle.

“OHHHH, if it isn’t my favorite married couple.” You heard a familiar cheery voice say from the hallway causing Spencer and you to look up with smiles in both of your face’s already knowing who the voice belonged to.

“Pen!” You said letting go of Reid’s hand to embrace your shot of sunlight. “My sweet girl!” She said hugging you so tight you thought you’d throw up your breakfast….but the thought made your stomach queasy and when Penelope let you go you lifted your hand up to your mouth gagging a bit as you felt your saliva and mouth get hot. Clear indicators you were going to throw up, quickly realizing this you ran over to the large trash can in the hallway and hurled your insides out.

Spencer and Pen were quick to reach your side as Spencer grabbed your hair into a makeshift pony tail and pen rubbed circles on your back.

“Y/N ? Are you alright?” Spencer said as you got up wiping your mouth. You nodded “yeah I am.” You said a little confused on what caused you to throw up.

“Maybe it was something you ate for breakfast?” Pen offered a conclusion and you nodded in agreement.

Spencer seemed a little iffy but all of you agreed for that to be the case. “Ima go wash up I’ll meet you at the briefing.” You say to both of them as you walk towards the bathroom.

It was odd lately your body had been feeling different, you had been feeling more nauseous lately but you had always made rational conclusions for it, like a stomach bug or an allergy you didn’t know you had. Your breast had been sore lately but you always concluded it to Spencer and his tight grips during sex.

Spitting the sink water out your mouth you looked at your reflection in the mirror, a thought suddenly dawned on you.

Pregnant…

The word flashed into your mind causing you to look at your stomach. There was no way right? You were on the pill because you and Spencer agreed you both weren’t ready to discuss having kids yet.

However

The pill didn’t mean you were 100% free from getting pregnant. Unvoluntarily you moved your hand to your stomach feeling for something??

No you couldn’t be a mom, how could you be a mom? You didn’t have a mom growing up your mom had always been absent. She was always out in clubs, drinking and partying, and when she was home she was sleeping her hangover away and waking up just in time to go to her Waffle House night shift. Leaving you alone to take the bus to school, coming home to an empty home, not just physically but emotionally too. Your mother seemed to want to be around everyone else but you, only once had you heard I love you fall from your mothers lips towards you, and she was in her drunken state. It had been a late night after the club and she walked into your room reeking of alcohol as you read a book. She walked over falling to her knees and begging you to forgive her and she spat out I love you’s.

Yet the next morning it was like the night never happened and she didn’t even remember. Your father had died when you were 4 so you didn’t remember much of him at all. How could you be a mom if you never had one to teach you how to be one?

“Y/N?” A voice came from the bathroom door snapping you out of your thoughts. JJ stood at the door a confused expression on her face “you okay?” She asked as you walked over to her. “Yeah of course why do you ask?” You responded with plastering a smile on your face. She eyed you up and down analyzing if you were being truthful “nothing, just came to get you because were about to start the briefing.” She said as you both walked out the bathroom and towards the glass doors.

“Oh okay thank you.” You said smiling at her as she sent you a warm motherly smile.

JJ was a mom she was an excellent mom, always boasting about her kids expressing how proud she was, how much she loved them. You’d want to be like JJ if you’d ever were a mom, sometimes you’d think how lucky Henry and Michael were to have such a loving and caring mom like JJ. You’d seen how JJ would give her life up for her children how her children would be her first priority edite anything else.

“Okay since we’re all here let’s start.” Pen said as you and JJ took a seat in the round table as Pen described the case.

The case had taken a turn for the worst, the unsub was more unpredictable than any of you thought. He managed to escape from the house when Morgan broke down the door which brought you to where you were now, chasing after him in a car. Morgan drove as you rode shot gun shot gun and being his extra set of eyes. The rest of the team were in different cars taking different roads to be able to find a way to surround the unsub.

“He took a right at blíndale street!” You shouted at Morgan as he quickly turned the car right. Turning to look at the dashboard Morgan was hitting 85mph to keep up with the unsub.

“I lost him!” Morgan yelled as you looked back up to the street scanning for the blue minivan. Infront of tow cars you spotted it again as the unsub was wrong way driving. “I see him he’s over there!” You said pointing to the mini van as Morgan spotted him. Morgan turned sharply as cars began braking and beeping.

You turned your attention to the oncoming traffic spotting a 18 wheeler coming straight towards you. Your eyes widened “Morgan watch out!” You screamed as the truck got closer and you closed your eyes waiting for impact. “Hold on Y/N!” Morgan yelled putting his hand over your body like a seat belt as the 18 wheeler came tumbling towards y’all.

The strength of the hit caused the car to flip over 5 times landing on the side. Air bags hit your face and the seatbelt felt like the tightest thing around your body burning your chest with its grip. You whimpered in pain as the car stopped rolling and came to a stop. The smell of oil filling your lungs and the ringing in your ears louder than anything you’ve ever heard before. Your eyelids heavy and head throbbing you blacked out.

The coldness hit your skin as you felt goosebumps form on your arms. You felt pain shot onto your chest causing you to groan and scrunch you face, immediately there was a presence hovering over you and a voice “Honey? Honey? Can you hear me?” Spencer’s quiet voice sounded so beautiful to your ears as you slowly blinked your eyes open. The bright white fluorescent lights blinds you temporarily, you shifted your aching neck at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed his eyes sad and desperate, his hands gripping onto yours as if he were to let go you would disappear.

“Spence?” You murmured out

“Yeah baby I’m here.” He said moving a strand of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

“What happened?” Was all you could say trying to remember anything.

“There was an accident you got hit by a 18 wheeler.” He said caressing your cheek.

Memories flooded back into your mind gasping as you remembered Morgan.

“Oh my God is Morgan okay?!” You asked trying to sit up and groaning in pain. Quickly Spencer positioned you back down “hey no no no, stay still Morgan’s okay he has a broken arm but other than that he’s doing okay.” Spencer assured you causing you to relax.

“He broke his arm because of me.” You say looking at Spencer remembering how Morgan’s first instinct was to protect you.

“Because he loves you, he chose to willingly protect you. It’s not your fault.” Spencer said looking down at your chest.

Your eyes following his as you say your hospital gown had blood around your chest. Curious you pulled down the gown from your shoulders revealing a rash across your chest.

“The seatbelt caused that.” Spencer’s voice rang out.

“The seat belt saved you.” Spencer said quietly as if he was telling himself those words.

“Mr. & Mrs. Reid?” A woman’s voice came from the room door, it was a doctor.

“Yes that’s us.” Spencer said getting up from his seat as the doctor walked in to stand by your bed a smile on her face.

“I have purely good news!” The small blonde doctor beamed with a smile on her face as she opened her clipboard.

“The rash will heal in about 2 months time and we will be providing ointment for the itchiness it may cause.” She said as Spencer and you smiled.

“And no internal damage was cause to you or your baby.” She finished off as she closed her clipboard looking between you and Spencer.

The room was quiet.

Did she just say baby?

No?

Did she?

No?

You were hallucinating, you had to be… right?

“Excuse me baby?” Spencer’s voice cracked as he stared at the doctor.

“Yes… I’m sorry did you not know you were pregnant Mrs?” The blonde turned to look at you puzzled.

“N-no.” You say quickly

“You’re 8 weeks pregnant, your baby’s organs are beginning to form.” She says opening her clipboard again and looking at her medical charts for you.

“I will take my leave now, call me if you need anything.” The blonde says giving a polite smile and walking out of the room leaving you and Spencer in silence.

It was deafening quite, Spencer was frozen in place his eyes a mixture of emotions as he stared into space.

Your eyes began to swell up with tears. Memory’s of your childhood flooding your head, you couldn’t be a mom you didn’t know how to be a mom. This would end badly, what if you were like your own mom or worse? Tears ran down your cheeks like water flow.

“I’m so sorry Spencer.” You cracked out, you knew Spencer wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to have kids he had told you before he never had a dad so he wouldn’t know how to be one. Spencer loved his mom but she wasn’t a role model or 100% there all the time like she should have been.

“I’m so so sorry.” You said again bringing your hand to cover your mouth.

Spencer turned his head towards you taking in your crying face.

“Baby…shhh shhh shh.” He said sitting back down and wiping your fallen tears.

“I know you don’t want to be a dad.” You said holding his hand the rested on your cheek.

“What makes you think that?” He said his eyes pained

“You said before you didn’t have a dad so you wouldn’t want to put your own child through what you’ve been through.” You said your voice weak.

“I know baby but i know I won’t be the man my father was, because I have you. Because we’re doing this together.” He said kissing your eyelids.

“What if I’m like her.” You said looking up at Spencer.

He knew who you were talking about and he hated that you thought that about yourself.

“Baby you won’t be like her, because you aren’t her… you’ve already proven that because you show love and support to your friends, because you are able to show your love and affection through words and actions. That already proves you are nothing like her.” Spencer says rubbing his thumb up and down your cheek.

You nod your head soaking in his words.

“We’re gonna do this together.” He says smiling softly

“Promise?” You ask

“Promise.” He responds kissing you.

“Mommy mommy bedtime story!” Little Alice says as she crawls into her toddler bed you giggle as you turn the little lamp on in her room by her bed side.

“How about daddy tells you as story instead?” You say as Spencer walks into the room and smiles widely.

“Yes yes!” She says as you slide in next to her in bed.

“What about the story of Rumple Buttercup?” Spencer says sitting on the other side of Alice so she lays in between you two.

Alice giggles “that’s a weird name daddy!” Spencer smiles

“That’s the point princess Rumple is weird.” He says matching his daughter’s wide grin.

You watch both of them a smile spread across your face, you did it. Both of you, you both did it together.

You learned and grew and you couldn’t be more proud of the parents you both were.

You couldn’t be more proud of Alice your little angel your saving grace. You both had no idea how much you needed her until you both had her. You can’t imagine a world without Alice, you’d made a promise to always protect her no matter what, she was a part of you and Spencer put together.

Spencer got up from the bed snapping your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked down at a snoring Alice.

You smiled as you bent down to caress her cheek and place a kiss on her forehead “I love you angel.” You whispered as you got up and Spencer stared at you.

“What?” You smiled as he walked over to you wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You look so beautiful as a mom.” Spencer said kissing your cheek causing you to smile.

“You think so?” You teased lifting your arms to wrap around his neck.

“You’re the most beautiful woman.” He said burring his head into your neck as you both rocked in place.

Everything was so perfect.

“I love you.” He whispered into your skin.

“Thank you for everything for giving me what I didn’t know I needed.” He added as he kissed your neck affectionately.

“I love you more.” You responded tears brewing in your eyes.

No because I had so much fun writing this, it was so cute. I hope you all like this as much as I did!

[roostersbby69]

0.3 For old times sake

Summary: Bradley hasn’t gotten any action with his wife. They didn’t have kids, not because of their jobs, but because she just didn’t want to anymore. Bradley had a very high sex drive, and his maid that his wife hired might just give him a memory refresh of how good sex is.

Warnings: age gap (reader is 25, Bradley is 36), alcohol, language

Word count: too dang many

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x maid!reader

For old times sake masterlist. Full masterlist.

“I don’t see why it’s a problem, Isabelle.” Bradley groaned as he shoved his face in his hands on the edge of the bed.

“It’s because it gets fucking tiring, you always asking me to have sex.” She got up and crossed her arms over her chest.

Pilates was really working on her, her arms became more toned, her abs more defined, and her shoulders wider.

“Is it a crime to want to have sex with my wife?” He stood up now, getting angrier and angrier by the second. This was the third time this week he’s tried to pursue something with her. And nothing has gotten anywhere.

“No, but it should be a crime to want to do it every fucking night.” She scoffed and made her way to the bathroom.

All he wanted was some action, anything would do, a handjob, some head, hell even a kiss on the cheek would make him cum at this point.

He huffed and stormed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, he grabbed a beer and cracked it open. His face was hot as it traveled down to his neck, he grabbed his phone and walked out to the porch to make a phone call.

He pressed the contact he was looking for and placed the phone to his ear.

“What’s up?” A female voice came from the other end.

“I’m not sure why I called, I just need someone to listen.” He beat himself up for being so vulnerable right now.

She sighed, “Go on, what did she do this time?”

“She doesn’t want to do anything with me.” Bradley tried to make it PG for her.

“What do you mean, Rooster?”

“Anything, in bed.” He almost muttered the last part, shamefully.

He expected Natasha to throw out an ‘Ew’ or a ‘gross’ but this time she didn’t, “Rooster, dump her.”

“I can’t, Nat, we’re married.”

“Divorce her.” She corrected herself, “All women want is sex, at least thats what my girlfriend tells me, I don’t know man maybe you’re just getting old.”

“Natasha, I didn’t call to get a sex education lesson,” He ran his hand along his face, “She’s always been like this, we used to be physical but, somethings changes. Ever since she got these new friends, this new job and started a stupid workout class. She just doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Phoenix sighed from the other end, “I don’t know what to tell you Bradley, other than divorce her or have a good talk with her.”

“She even hired this maid…” oops, didnt mean to blurt that out.

“A maid?” Nat questioned, “You mean like an old lady who goes around and cleans your house?”

He rolled his eyes, “No, Nat, a maid that destroys the house. Yes a maid that cleans the house.”

“Damn, is she hot?”

Bradley shouldn’t be talking about this. Not while his wife was in the house.

“Yes.” Too late now.

“Damn, Bradshaw. You’re a dead man.” She laughed humorously.

“Yeah, I know.” He shook his head and sighed.

-

Turns out, Isabelle ran out of the house after their argument and went to her dumb class that she goes to all the time.

So Bradley didn’t see why it wasn’t okay for him to go to the Hard Deck tonight for a couple of drinks and his friends.

He pulled up in the parking lot and turned the engine off. He grabbed his wallet and made his way to the front door which was open and buzzing with people and music.

The first thing he saw was his friends shooting pool and handing out beers to each other.

This already lifted his mood as he made his way towards them and folded his sunglasses on his shirt.

“Rooster!” Coyote hollered across the room and got Bradley’s attention, Bradley made his way to him and shook his hand, “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Yeah, just thought I’d drop by.” He nodded and smiled at Nat who was shooting pool.

She was the only person who knew exactly why he “dropped by”.

“Nice to see you again.” She looked to him then back to the pool table. She squinted her eyes then jabbed the ball with the stick and made it into the pocket.

“You too, Nat.” He walked over to Fanboy who was talking to Bob.

“Bradshaw!” He patted Bradleys shoulder and.

“Hey, guys.” He sat down at the table with them and watched the rest of the team mess around.

Hangman walked towards them, juggling three beers in his hand, and smirked once he saw Bradley.

“Here, you look like you need one of these.” He slid a bottle to bradley.

“Thanks.” Bradley mumbled and took a sip of it. He really did need one.

“There’s this super hot chick I might bring home tonight.” Hangman bragged and jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

“Who is it?” Fanboy asked, looking over Hangman’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of said girl.

“The cute chick in the blue sundress.” Hangman said as he handed out the beers and took one for himself.

Out of curiosity, Bradley peered behind his shoulder to see the “blue sundress” girl. His eyes widened once he noticed who it was.

-

“A spicy margarita, please.” You took out your wallet and slid your ID to the bartender. She nodded and took it before approving it and giving it back to you.

“So, you come here often?” A guy in a khaki uniform asked as he stood next to you with a smile on his face.

“Um, no, not really. I’m too busy with school and a job.”

He nodded, “You’re in school?”

“Yeah, on my last year of college.” You nodded.

He smirked, he liked school girls. Penny slid his beers to him and told him that these were his last ones for the night. She seemed like she was playing with him but he winked at her and said ‘no promises’.

-

“Some school chick.” Hangman bragged, “Might do a little role play, ill be the student shes tutoring and shell be the naughty teacher who gives me a lesson.” He smirked as Fanboy ‘oohed’.

Bradleys Jaw clenched as he listened to them talk about you with such filth. But he didn’t say anything, to save his reputation.

“You’ve been awful quiet, Rooster.” Bob pitched in as he noticed Bradley staring at you.

Bradley averted his eyes from your figure and turned to Bob who had gotten everyone’s attention on him. Bradley cleared his throat, “Just, had a long day.”

Bob just simply nodded and dropped the subject, and Bradley was thankful for that.

He wanted to walk up to you since you were sitting by yourself, but he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. He had a damn wife, a shitty one at that.

He shook his head and muttered a soft, “Fuck it.” Before getting up and making his way towards you.

You sat staring down at your drink as the ice shifted causing bubbles to rise to the top. You had finished one already and were on your second one when a man sat down next to you.

“Hey, stranger.” He said. You recognized that voice, you turned your head to him and your face went red as you realized who it was that was sitting by you.

“Oh my gosh, Mr. Bradshaw.” You slid your drink behind your purse and widened your eyes.

He laughed at your shyness, “Don’t stress, I’m here for the same thing you are.” He really wasn’t here for that reason, he was here because of his wife. And he was sure you didn’t have a wife.

“I’m so sorry.” You scrambled as you revealed your drink once again.

“Don’t be, you’re old enough to drink, I don’t see the problem.” He shook his head and sipped his beer.

“I didn’t know you came here.” Your eyes never left his broad frame as his elbows rested against the bar top and his shirt was snug against his biceps.

“I could say the same things about you.” He turned to you and smirked.

“I don’t usually come here, I just wanted a drink tonight.” You shrugged and swirled your drink with its straw.

“No problem with that.” He shrugged and turned to face forward again.

“How’s Mrs. Bradshaw?” You asked and noticed as his jaw clenched and his mustache twitched.

“She’s good.” Bradley nodded and decided not to share too much.

“She doesn’t come here?” You asked as you sipped your drink.

He shook his head and looked down at his bottle, “No, she doesn’t really like this place. Not fancy enough or something.”

You nodded and set your glass down after you finished a long sip, “It’s the only place I can afford.” You laughed.

He snorted, “Yeah, same here.” He looked over to you and noticed your cup was now empty. “You want another one of those?” He pointed his bottle towards your cup.

You raised an eyebrow at him and smirked, “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He smirked back, “Maybe.”

“Mr. Bradshaw.” You teased and smiled, Penny came over with a smile on her face as she took your glass.

“Another one, dear?”

“Please.” You nodded your head.

Bradley smiled as he watched you play with your bracelet on your wrist, he felt awful for acting like this towards another woman. His mother always taught him to be respectful of women. But she also taught him to give the same energy back that they gave him.

“You don’t really look the type to drink.” He looked forwards and lifted his bottle to his lips.

“And you don’t look the type to sit by a lonely girl at a bar when you have a wife.” You teased and smirked at him.

Shit. He had been caught. “It’s complicated.” He mumbled and quickly finished his beer. He probably shouldn’t have said that, yet he did anyways. He decided to blame it on the alcohol.

“Really?” You turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

He nodded and hummed.

“How come?” You pushed and almost regretted it immediately.

“She doesn’t like to do anything in bed.” He shrugged and thanked penny once she brought your drinks out.

You almost choked on air at his blunt statement, “All women want to do stuff in bed.”

Maybe what Nat said was true. Maybe something was up with Isabelle. And it wasn’t just him that was causing it.

“Oh really? And how do you know that?” He chuckled as your face went red and you tried to hide it behind your cup as you brought it up to your lips.

“Because I’m a woman.” You shrugged and tried to hold back a smile.

He hummed and went back to his beer, he felt his dick tightening in his jeans as he caught sight of your thighs exposed from your short sundress, your breasts were deliciously on display and it made his mouth water.

His shirt clung to his biceps and you noticed the veins running up his hands as they held onto his beer bottle. You knew this was wrong, thinking about him like this. He has a wife. But you couldn’t help but admire him, the way his mustache was neatly trimmed, his brown eyes that seemed lighter with the lights over the two of you, his jeans that hugged his big thighs, and his lips that curved up into a smile every now and then as you talked.

This was wrong, but yet you found yourself doing the things you knew you shouldn’t.

And it was exhilarating.

—————————————————————

Authors note: They’re getting closerr. This is going to be good!

[aylacavebear]

What's the Opposite of Healing?

You have the ability to help a soul leave its body and move on, painlessly. So, your services are in high demand when you begin hearing people pray for you. Are you an angel? No. Are you a demon, also, no. You aren’t even a Nephilim. Hell, you aren’t sure what you are. All you know is that one day, in your late twenties, you helped your terminally ill father pass on and then began helping others, hearing odd thoughts that pulled you all throughout the country.

Word Count: 4258

No Pairings. Some familiar faces, though.

Warnings: Death, loss of a loved one, stress, Angst, getting "kidnapped," life threatened. The usual Supernatural stuff.

----------------------------------------- The morning sunlight attempted to shine through the motel room curtains you’d drawn the night before, but not much got through. It was, however, just enough to pull you from sleep. With a grumble, you rolled onto your back and opened your eyes.

How did this become my life?

A sigh left your lips as you forced yourself to sit up, get out of bed, and get dressed. It had been a long night, and now the goal was breakfast and coffee. You packed the few items you had out, grabbed your phone, and headed out to your car with your bag. The brisk October morning air hitting your face definitely helped wake you up. At least your flannel was warm, and it wasn’t quite cold enough for a jacket, yet.

The diner down the road wasn’t busy, not this early, so the service was quick. You did stay for several coffee refills, though, as you needed the caffeine for the drive ahead of you. Since that night, almost two years ago, you started hearing what you could only understand as the pleas of those who were ready to finally leave this world. They just wanted the pain to stop, to be at peace.

You left the waitress a nice tip, then got on the road. You were headed west, toward Kansas. You weren’t quite sure what town yet, but it would come to you the closer you got. Some pleas were stronger than others, even if they were further away. Those were the ones you tended to listen for and pay attention to. 

“I don’t want to live for the rest of my short life on all these machines and all these pills. I just want to be at peace. I want to rest and the pain to be gone.”

That was the current plea that kept playing through your mind. You could tell it was an elderly woman, probably in her late eighties. You weren’t sure what she was sick with, but you could relate to her pain. Your father had been in a similar situation, and your heart went out to the woman as a tear slipped down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath.

“I’ll be there in a few hours,” you whispered aloud, wishing somehow you could comfort the woman who was in so much pain.

Parking outside the hospital in Sioux Falls, you took another deep breath. This was the place, and she wasn’t the only one there who was asking for a release from the pain of whatever they were burdened with.

Another long night.

The thought caused a small smile to cross your lips, though. You did enjoy helping these people. It had given you a sense of purpose after your father’s passing. It was the people’s loved ones who were usually just as thankful and grateful as the person who was in pain that always made you cry.

You didn’t check in at any of the nursing stations. Nope. You just walked in as if you knew exactly where you were going. No one stopped you or even tried to speak to you. The woman who had been praying was in a private room, and once you found it, you knocked softly.

“Come in,” an elderly woman’s voice said from the other side.

You could hear the physical pain in her voice when she spoke. Her tone was weaker than the plea that had found its way to you. Slowly, you opened her door, and she smiled at you.

“You came,” she told you, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“I did. Have you said your goodbyes?” you asked her softly, sitting in the chair beside her bed.

She reached a hand out to you, which you took gently in yours. She felt so frail, so weak, and all you wanted to do was help ease her suffering.

“I did, but my daughter wants to be here with me,” she replied, that relieved smile still on her lips.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you told her softly, giving her a reassuring smile and gently squeezing her hand.

The woman called the nurse with the call button and then had her retrieve her daughter from the waiting room. When the woman’s daughter entered the room, you took in her demeanor. She looked exhausted like she’d been at the hospital for days with little to no rest. Her long blond hair looked loosely thrown into a ponytail, and it looked as though she hadn’t changed her clothes in a couple of days.

“Mom? Is this her?” the woman’s daughter asked, sitting in the chair on the other side of her mother’s bed.

“Yes. This is my angel come to help me go home to your father,” the woman said with a happy, relieved sigh, reaching her hand out to her daughter.

“I’m gonna miss you, Mom,” the woman’s daughter replied as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I’ll peek in on you, and I’ll always be in your heart,” she told her daughter softly before turning to you. “I’m ready.”

A few tears had also slipped down your cheeks. Watching loved ones say their goodbyes always made you cry. You gave them both a soft smile before standing beside her bed, still holding the woman’s hand. You leaned down and gently kissed the elderly woman on her forehead, closing your eyes. As your eyes closed, so did the elderly woman’s, and in seconds, all the monitors went off as the woman’s soul continued its journey toward heaven to be with her husband. The woman’s daughter looked over at you as you stood up and gently placed the elderly woman’s hand on her chest.

“Thank you,” she whispered, too happy and yet also grief-stricken to say much more.

“It’s the least I could do,” you whispered back before moving toward the door. 

That was when the nurses quickly rushed in, and you slipped out, mostly unseen and unimportant to those who worked there. You wiped away the tears from your eyes as you walked down the hallways of the hospital. There were a few others praying, so you visited each one. It was the last one you visited that hit you the hardest. 

A man in his late forties had heart problems mixed with a few other complicating health issues. The life ahead of him was not one he wanted to live nor put his family through. When you stopped to talk to him, he asked for a couple days to get his affairs in order, which you granted and left your number with him. That way, he could call you when he was ready.

You went to the local bar that night, needing more than a drink to get yourself to sleep that night. It was always hard, and you hadn’t really taken a day for yourself in a long time. It was something the man had said that had stuck with you more than anything else. He’d said your wings were beautiful, even if they were as black as midnight. But, I’m not an angel, you thought to yourself as you ordered your third double, barely feeling buzzed. Classic rock played in the background, and numerous patrons drank around the bar. You had tuned it all out, though, still pondering what the man could have possibly meant. 

The bartender turned up the volume on the TV above the bar, pulling your attention from your thoughts. It was a news story about the deaths at the hospital, and the elderly woman’s daughter was talking to her. Luckily, all she said was that an angel had come to help her mother move on, and she’d omitted a description of you.

With a sigh, you returned to your drink, finished, and headed to the local motel. You decided to pay for a week as a just in case, since you weren’t sure how long the man would need to get his affairs in order. You grabbed your bag out of your car after parking in front of your room and headed inside. It was a decently nice motel compared to the ones you typically stayed at, which was a relief since you’d be here longer than you had initially planned. With the alcohol in your system, you decided against a shower. So, you stripped down after locking the door, pulling the curtains closed, and passed out for the night.

—-----------

The diner was lovely, with fantastic service. You’d found that out during the first full day in town. Then, there were all the little shops to visit that were locally owned. You even got a couple of articles of new clothes from one of the thrift shops and a nice necklace from one of the antique shops.

It was day three and near lunchtime. So, you were sitting in one of the booths at the diner, having a burger and fries. You’d chosen something comfortable yet warm to wear, a pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt, and had your red flannel pulled over it unbuttoned, but you’d left your long, black hair down, as it kept your ears warmer. 

You were halfway through your burger when you noticed a woman approaching your table. She was in a sheriff’s uniform, and your heart began racing. You swallowed the bite in your mouth just as she approached your table.

“Hey there. Jodi Mills. Mind if I ask you a few questions?” she asked you, far friendlier than you thought she’d be.

“I don’t mind. You can sit if you’d like,” you replied, giving her a friendly smile, hoping she couldn’t see just how anxious you really were.

She sat across from you and folded her hands in front of her on the table. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Just passing through?” She questioned casually.

“Yes. I’m traveling west on a road trip and needed a few days to recuperate from the drive so far,” you answered, nibbling on a fry.

“Do you have any family or friends here in Sioux Falls?” she asked casually again, which was starting almost to creep you out.

“No,” you replied, a mix of confusion and worry.

“Uh-huh,” was all she said, then gave you a friendly smile, “Well, thanks for your time, and be safe on your journey.”

With that, she got up and headed out of the diner. Your mind was racing with what all that was about. It was clear she was suspicious of you, but she hadn't outright accused you of anything or even asked you direct questions. With your heart pounding, you flagged down the waitress and asked for a to-go box for what was left of your lunch. 

Even after you returned to your motel room, inside with the door locked, your nerves were still on edge. You typically never got questioned by the cops, let alone a sheriff, no matter how many people you’d helped in one town. Although, to be fair, that sort of thing had never been on the news before, either. 

You debated leaving town, but you had promised the guy you’d help him, and these were promises you always kept. So, when your phone rang and you heard the man’s voice on the other end, you let out a sigh of relief. He was ready. An hour later, you were at the hospital, your belongings packed in your car. He had his dearest family there with him, and it both broke your heart and brought you joy to see the love they had for the man. You had to quickly wipe away the tear that had slipped down your cheek as you approached the side of his bed.

“My angel,” he said with a smile as he looked up at you.

“Are you ready?” you asked him softly.

“Yes,” he replied as a tear of relief escaped his eyes. 

You took his hand in yours, then leaned down and kissed his forehead, closing your eyes. His eyes did the same, and a moment later, he was gone, and the machines went off. You straightened up as several tears fell from your eyes. His family that had been there all hugged and thanked you, even after the nurses rushed into the room.

As you headed out of the room and were attempting to dry your eyes, you felt a firm hand on each of your upper arms, and you almost screamed.

“Just keep walking, and we’ll make this quick,” the one to your left told you.

“And don’t try anything funny,” the one to your right added, and you heard the cocking of a gun. “Just keep your eyes in front of you, and don’t make a scene.”

It was the most nerve-wracking experience of your life. Every thought possible went through your head as to what was going to happen to you. Your heart was pounding so hard and fast that you were sure both the men could hear it. Then there was the wringing in your ears that seemed to drown out all other sounds. You were trying not to panic, but that got harder the moment they got you outside and started walking you toward a car.

That was when the fight in you finally kicked in, and you attempted to pull away from the two of them. Too bad they were both far stronger than you and it was a futile effort on your part. They each gripped your arms tighter and practically dragged you to their car.

The taller of the two got into the back seat while the other one held onto both your arms before pretty much shoving you into the back seat. That was when the other one put a pair of handcuffs on you, which he then held onto. He also pulled the gun from inside his jacket and held it against your side.

The other closed the car door and got into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirror so he could watch you while he drove. Then, he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot as if this was normal for the two of them.

“Now, what the hell are you?” the one in the back seat demanded.

It took a moment to process what he’d said. He wasn’t asking for your name. He wanted something else. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, terrified.

“Look, Sweetheart. I’m in no mood for games. Just tell us what the hell you are so we can kill you quickly,” the one in the front seat growled.

“What do you mean, what I am? I’m human,” you answered shakily, finally looking into the rearview mirror at the man’s reflection, which you could still mostly make out, even in the dark.

You watched as his gaze went from you to the one next to you in the back seat before he spoke again. “Bobby’ll know what to do with her. Plus, we can lock her in his panic room,” the one driving said.

Tears slipped down your cheeks for the drive, but neither of them spoke again. Not even when they pulled into a scrapyard, or when they were hauling you into the two-story house that was there. That was when a man who would have been near your father’s age spoke up from behind a desk.

“Now what?” the older mand asked grumpily.

“She won’t tell us what she is, and we’re not gonna just let her go. She’s the one that’s been killing people,” the one who had been driving explained to the older man.

The taller of the two had taken you into the living room as the older man looked you over and leaned back in his chair. He looked like he’d seen a lot in his days; his expression showed how deeply he was thinking. Your nerves were still shot, but you kept your mouth shut, at least for now. The older man got up and tossed some water in your face, surprising you, but you shook your head a bit, having no clue what that had been for. Then, the shorter of the two who had grabbed you pulled out a knife and cut your arm.

“Owe, that hurt,” you hissed.

“Well, that eliminates a few things. Time to hit the books, boys,” the older man told them with a sigh, heading to a pile of books. “Put her in the panic room. That devil’s trap isn’t gonna hold her.” He told the two without looking at you or them.

You wanted to protest, beg for them just to let you go, but your mind was in overdrive, as was every nerve in your body. The two of them nearly dragged you down a flight of stairs and shoved you into an iron room. The taller of the two took off the cuffs, at least, but they locked you in. “Scream all you want. No one will hear you,” the shorter of the two said with a smirk, almost like he was enjoying himself.

Their footsteps could soon be heard heading back up the stairs. That’s when you sat down on the cot in the middle of the circular room and just cried. Before long, you’d curled yourself up on the cot and cried yourself to sleep, wondering how the hell you were going to get out of this one.

—-------

The sound of the door opening pulled you from sleep, and you rolled over to see who it was. It was the shorter of the two, but then the taller one came into view. Your whole body hurt from sleeping on the cot, and you groaned slightly as you forced yourself to sit up. Your hair was a mess, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Can I please have some water?” you asked as calmly as you could manage.

“Can you tell us what you are?” the shorter of the two asked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.

“I told you, I’m human,” you replied, a mix of frustration and anxiety.

The shorter of the two threw his arms in the air, utterly frustrated as he turned and walked away, then back up the stairs. The taller one crossed his arms and stared at you from the other side of the doorway. You made no move to escape. You knew there was no point. He’d probably grab you before you even made it out of the room. With a heavy sigh, your gaze fell to the floor. After about a minute, he closed and then latched the door.

It felt like most of the day had passed. You’d walked around the room, looking at everything that was in there. There wasn’t a ton of stuff, but there was enough to tell you that these people were into some bizarre stuff. You did manage to find a couple of books and chose one to read. You pulled the cushion off the cot and set it on the floor against the wall, as that was far more comfortable than attempting to sit on the cot and read.

Sometime later, the older of the three opened the door, pulling your gaze from the book you had been passing the time reading. You noticed a tray in his hand and tilted your head slightly, puzzled but curious. The other two then entered the room after him. You felt the anxiety building again. The three of them were rather intimidating. That was when you noticed a fourth man.

That one was different, and it had nothing to do with his clothes, which was a brown trenchcoat over a simple suit and tie with a white shirt. He had an odd glow to him, and somehow, you understood the question the two had asked you. You wanted to ask this man that very question.

“Alright, Cas. She’s al-.” The shorter of the two from the first night began, but the fourth man was already moving toward you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, squatting in front of you, his piercing blue eyes locked on you deep, dark blue ones.

“Umm…” you began, but tilted your head a bit, “What, uh, are you?” you asked, puzzled by his glow.

“I’m an angel,” he replied in a strange, deep monotone.

“Is that why you have a glow?” you asked, still puzzled but also curious.

“Yes. Now, are you okay?” he asked you again.

“I’m hungry,” you answered, in awe at his revelation of being an angel.

“Cas, can we please get to the point already?” the shorter one grumbled from across the room.

Cas helped you stand before facing the three of them, “She’s an angel of death,” he told them bluntly, and you swore your jaw hit the floor.

“I’m a what?” you asked, in a bit of shock.

“Is she dangerous?” the older one asked, almost worried.

“No. She’s not dangerous,” Cas answered, still standing between you and the three of them.

“Then why was she killing people,” the shorter of the two almost demanded.

“She wasn’t killing anyone. She helped their souls move on peacefully instead of them having to suffer an unfulfilling life,” Cas explained. “They were ready to move on.”

Far too many questions swirled in your head, and you felt a little dizzy. You contributed that to a lack of food, though. The room got fuzzy for a moment as you slowly swayed where you stood. Just before everything went black, someone caught you before you hit the floor.

—-----

It was morning; you could tell that much from the light coming in through the window, even with the curtains drawn. That then puzzled you. The last thing you remembered was being in what they’d called a panic room, which hadn’t had any windows. You rubbed your eyes, sitting up. I’m in a bed, in a room. Am I still at the same house? Was it all a dream? No, definitely not a dream. 

You carefully stood up, testing your weight on your legs. Luckily, they weren’t wobbly. Slowly, you made your way out of the room and found the living room, but that was when you stopped. All four of them were there, and they’d gone silent the moment you reached the doorway. It was an awkward silence for you. You weren’t even sure what to do.

Cas came over to you, though. “How are you feeling?” he asked, still in that same monotone from before, but there was a softness in his eyes that was almost comforting.

“Um, I think I feel better,” you replied, still unsure what exactly was going on.

“Come sit down, kid,” the older of the men told you, sounding fairly apologetic.

Cas moved back to where he’d been standing, and you managed to find a seat on the far side of the couch. You fidgeted with a button on your flannel nervously.

“First off, we’re sorry. We had no idea what you were or that you were helping people,” the older man explained, and you heard the sincerity in his tone. “I’m Bobby. That’s Dean and Sam. And that, well, that’s Cas.”

They spent the next almost half hour apologizing and explaining what an Angel of Death was. It made sense. Your mother had died in childbirth, and your ability to help people hadn’t shown itself until your father was ready to pass. You also found out that you had other powers and wings. Plus, those wings worked, and Cas promised to teach you how to use them. He also said he’d help you with your powers.

It was a lot to take in in such a short amount of time. When you asked about how you could be an angel with human parents, that’s when Cas explained it. He started with some weird technical stuff, but you asked him to simplify it. So, he did. 

“Your human father said yes to a reaper. So, your grace lay dormant until the time when you were free of your human ties. However, your mother said yes to an angel. The combination is where you come in,” he explained like it was simple math a first-grader would understand.

“Wait. I thought Death was the Angel of Death,” Sam spoke up, sounding confused.

“That is one of his names, yes, but he is not an angel,” Cas stated plainly.

And that was when you got the talk. All four of them explained things or what was really out there that normal people didn’t know about. It was a lot to take in on top of learning about what you were. Their explanations made the book you had read the day before make more sense at least. 

“I thought only God could make angels, though,” you mentioned, looking over at Cas, a little confused.

“That is correct. An Angel of Death is special. They have souls where regular angels typically do not,” he told you.

Great, as if my life couldn’t get any more complicated than it already was.

“Kid, you’re welcome to stay with us if you want,” Bobby offered sincerely.

You sighed but gave him a small smile, “Thanks. I might take you up on that, at least for a little while,” you replied gratefully.

And that is how you ended up meeting the Winchester brothers, their surrogate father Bobby, and an angel named Castiel, Cas for short. Your life had gotten turned upside down, but at least now, you had new allies who were willing to take in a wayward soul.

----------------------------------------- One Shots Master List Main Master List

Forever Tag List: @roseblue373

[anotherlifelesshawksloverplshelp]

~FLEXIBLE~

KATSUKI BAKUGOU X READER

Okay so it's kinda smut with plot tho (sorta not really)okay just TRUST ME ON THIS.

I've had this idea plaguing me where essentially Bakugo is definitely an intense person. He can be loving, but the mans cant help but want certain things. He loves when his baby is struggling to keep it together for him, or having to try things for his praise yk (i cant summarize things well).

After a long day/during an aggressive session, y/n cant fully handle it, not being flexible enough, so his health aware self whom always pays attention to maximize health via diet and physical wellness makes it his priority each day to stretch with her for her health and to solve their little problem. :]

It's pretty short, sorry<3

i just had to get it off my chest T^T

18+ content (mdni), fem! reader, fluff + smut, penetration(very short) <3

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` It all begun from one rough night, the product of a rough day at work. Bakugou came back home late in a fit, slamming the door behind him and throwing his stuff on the couch. What gave it away other than the slam of the door? He was a real neat freak. He believed there was a right and a wrong way to do everything, that everything had a place. When he was like this, just dropping his things, usually it had to do with some form of intense emotion. Unfortunately (or so people might say), it was frustration. "Kats, is everything okay?" You call out from the room, having been enjoying a book until he got there. You got up, trailing lightly, rather innocently out to the living room to catch him discarding items onto the couch from pieces of his gear to extra clothing. His crimson eyes lock onto you as he stepped up, pulling you firmly into a kiss.

Despite his apparent aggression, he was nothing but ever gentle with you (outside of bed of course), his big hands holding your face with much care as he took your breath away. The heat of his body radiated from his skin, the contact of your faces and the grip he had on you conducting it over to steadily increase your temperature, the room feeling hot.

When he pulls away, your delicate, flushed face looking up at him through with such pretty eyes, he couldn't help himself. His lips crash into yours again, his hands finding your waistband, tugging them down slightly. He always paused to ask, even if it wasn't verbal. You pull him in deeper, answering his question with a matching want.

He's quick to pull them down, dropping them to your ankles, which you flick away absentmindedly, too focused on his physical presence.

"Turn around for me, baby." He murmurs, patting your hip. You turn to face the counter but he shakes his head, grabbing your waist and turning you away from the surface, doing everything in his power not to slap that pretty ass of yours. "Ah, nope, we're trying something new." He hums as he broke his dick free from his pants, letting them fall down his thighs, holding the base carefully rubbing up along your folds, always sure to focus on how you could enjoy the moment. You shudder, letting out an airy sigh as he does so, voicing what you do and don't like always making him feel that much better about the way he fucks you. He can only the best, after all.

He gives a light slap to your ass, gripping the round plush of it before sliding his hand to get a good grip on your hip, lining up before sinking in, groaning gutturally as he took his time to indulge in you. You coo as he does so, fluttering at the feeling. He adjusts, drawing his hips away slowly just to make them meet again. You cant help but moan prettily over his dick, and he took that in proudly.

He pats your hip again, bringing one foot to the inner base of yours, knocking it to widen your stance, running a hand up from your ass to the small of your back, coaxing you lower. "Go ahead and get lower for me." He hums, drinking the sight. Your hands touch the ground, low enough to bend your elbows slightly, but not going as far as he'd like. "Kats, i can't go that low, I'm not that flexible!" You whine. He stops for a moment, thinking, his vermillion eyes tracing your figure quietly before noting. "we can work on that."

~~~

Forward to now, a week later and he's been going out of his way to get you out of bed in the mornings with him and walking you through his stretching routine, strictly at least 15 minutes each morning. Youd do this every morning, accompanied with another 15 once more either midday, before and after a workout, or at night.

You had gotten the lecture about health from him the morning after.

"You have to be mindful of your diet" "I know" "And your body. Strength is important for your health overall" "I know" "But without stretching it could lead to injuries and you're not that stupid are you?" You shake your head.

He only ever wanted the best for you. He was always health motivated, very mindful of his sleep, his diet, and his physical well being. You best believe he was sure to make it his priority to follow up on yours too.

You were currently sitting on the ground, legs parted and reaching to the side to touch your left foot, matching him. He looks at you and grins, getting up to press a kiss to the side of your head, giving a proud smirk to you, admiring you intently, surely with a glint of mischief as he thought ahead. "It sure feels better to be more flexible, huh?"

After all, he cared for your health. What would he do if his baby couldn't cutely press her chest to the ground for him?

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

[dopemonkshit]

the way my dog behaves at the park 😇

vs how she behaves in our backyard 👿

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[fairene]

gravity / ln

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

where your life with him is just beginning.

yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.

wc: 15.2k woops!

warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.

it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink.   but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers? 

you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town. 

who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable. 

a nerd in short terms. 

you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there. 

the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.

“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest. 

“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled. 

they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point. 

“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night. 

“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”

you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore. 

“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction. 

you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled. 

“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:

“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him. 

but how the whims would be tested over the years. 

────────────

a year later

“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking. 

a season of going to races with him.

you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further. 

you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco. 

your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table. 

“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned. 

you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“

“you wouldn’t drop a pound.” 

you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money. 

“lando—“ you began to shake your head. 

“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”

“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”

it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey. 

you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say. 

with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him. 

you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours. 

on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german. 

you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away. 

“what’re you reading?” 

“do you really want to know?”

he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”

your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?

intimate

“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”

lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”

your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—

“lando?”

“hmm?”

“what will it be like?”

“what?”

“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you. 

lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him. 

“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”

you nodded. 

────────────

he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of  your thigh the entire drive. 

he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?

────────────

the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits. 

“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should. 

you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask. 

“what about orange?”

orange.

lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from. 

the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right. 

and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong. 

────────────

you certainly underestimated the crowds. 

with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated. 

your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today. 

“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”

that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun. 

questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking. 

you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features. 

lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction. 

it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach. 

a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her. 

“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”

you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?

“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself. 

“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went. 

he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it. 

his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters. 

────────────

what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking.  you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired. 

“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists. 

he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did. 

the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.

your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?” 

she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds. 

lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly. 

he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”

because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth. 

────────────

you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap. 

when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin. 

without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch. 

you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress. 

whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter. 

“you got this, lan.”

there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention. 

he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom. 

with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely. 

────────────

miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side. 

he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity. 

his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt. 

it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it. 

accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention. 

of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing. 

though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason. 

on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends. 

though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing. 

at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in. 

charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup. 

carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather. 

no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke. 

lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers. 

the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind. 

alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name. 

lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra. 

“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side. 

you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.

though many would disagree with that. 

you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice. 

“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face. 

“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks. 

“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you. 

“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”

you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you. 

before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold. 

it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music. 

she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her. 

you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head. 

alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder. 

the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable. 

your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities. 

the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn. 

a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul. 

lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?

before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”

charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling? 

“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips. 

you gave him a quizzical look. 

“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?

“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt. 

he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”

you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”

his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make. 

you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”

“do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge. 

he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more. 

“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement. 

rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease. 

dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it. 

but your friends noticed. 

rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm. 

“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen. 

“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod. 

“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance. 

“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”

“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…

your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good. 

you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you. 

the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself. 

you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”

he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”

your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.” 

the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.

“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims. 

“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction. 

“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again. 

“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped. 

“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit. 

“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good. 

before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks. 

the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.

“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged. 

“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.

“guess so.”

────────────

saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming. 

“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”

you were taken back. “what do you mean?”

they exchanged a look. 

“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really. 

“so…?” 

“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen. 

“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.” 

the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased. 

“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”

so confident

alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered. 

you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”

rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”

“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”

“how he pays for everything for you.”

“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”

your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them. 

“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you? 

“absolutely.”

“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.

shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say. 

would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head? 

the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed. 

“what do i do?”

the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks. 

────────────

lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side. 

oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.

lily looked at you, confused. 

“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”

lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head. 

“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her. 

“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”

“yeah?”

“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?

a beat of silence.

“without a doubt.”

the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?

he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out. 

lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.

when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?

he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile. 

“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown. 

“are you alright?” 

“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip. 

“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip? 

you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat. 

“what happened? did–”

“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…

“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.

“me. just you and me.”

“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time. 

he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize. 

“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin. 

“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right. 

“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips. 

“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart. 

“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.” 

lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…

“deal.”

you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke. 

“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something. 

you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god. 

but he did

lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded. 

he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain? 

the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–

a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow. 

you flushed.

never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing. 

“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.

“what’s this for, then? hmm?” 

“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.

his laugh quieted. “did she?”

“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”

you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot. 

“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at. 

“did you?”

“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“meet a guy?” 

you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”

he relaxed, noticeably. 

keeping all these guys away from you…

“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly. 

you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people. 

lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down. 

his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though. 

did you even deserve to wear something so elegant? 

“gimme a sec,”  you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.

you opened the door. 

“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you. 

and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up. 

testing the waters

that’s what you were doing

you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”

“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching. 

he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive. 

you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold. 

“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.” 

lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown. 

you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws. 

in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together. 

you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months. 

it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe. 

he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner. 

but he could never control his tongue. 

“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle. 

darling

you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again. 

“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.” 

he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun. 

“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!” 

he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

────────────

the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black. 

but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent. 

“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober. 

he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.

the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively. 

“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together. 

lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee. 

“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”

your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”

“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”

one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance. 

“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”

“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?

“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”

he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–

but what?

“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance. 

“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand? 

you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement. 

“are you nervous?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch. 

“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”

“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms. 

your breath hitched in your throat. 

“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip. 

“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”

‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”

“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”

lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”

lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips. 

god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.

dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier. 

but you would, in time.

on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile. 

the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand. 

────────────

race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest. 

your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?

especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side. 

he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.

your fans.

there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed. 

but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious. 

“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. 

“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary. 

“it doesn’t sound like–” 

“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile. 

the british driver sighed. 

you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes. 

he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you. 

“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.” 

you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek. 

“you got this, lan.” 

he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.

────────────

you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.

first. lando was in first. 

you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.  

and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life. 

he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears. 

his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug. 

lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name. 

you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment. 

he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you. 

you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.

“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando. 

he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days. 

but you wanted that to go away. 

you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side. 

your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything. 

he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth. 

his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground. 

but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.

the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled. 

“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”

you cupped his cheek. 

“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”

he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile. 

“drink some champagne for me.”

he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done. 

and you sure as hell weren’t. 

────────────

“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing. 

“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”

lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”

your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes. 

“absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick. 

he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”

he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips. 

“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!

“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks. 

“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile. 

“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.

“in every universe, lan.”  your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”

he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.” 

your eyes widened at him. 

“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”

you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue. 

your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.

"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.

you nodded, but that wasn't enough.

"words. need words."

"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?

you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck. 

you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”

“don’t care.”

“you should.” 

“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.

you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”

there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.” 

lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car. 

────────────

the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there. 

when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side. 

you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”

he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub. 

“lando! is this your girlfriend?”

“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other. 

inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence. 

“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip. 

“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty. 

“she really did,” alexandra confirmed. 

you rolled your eyes at the pair of them. 

“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too. 

“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down. 

“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.

“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.” 

“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?” 

it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order. 

without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.

the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention. 

lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.

you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day. 

and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get. 

eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you. 

you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection. 

with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of. 

“what?” he said into your ear. 

you only shifted closer into him if that was possible. 

“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.

you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin. 

“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time. 

you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.

but lando didn’t. 

the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.

he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed. 

“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”

pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over. 

“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground. 

“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye. 

bastard. 

when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could. 

he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin. 

“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry. 

he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by. 

the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.” 

“you’re the death of me, darling.”

you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you. 

you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions. 

lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.

his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly. 

you were ethereal. 

there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey. 

you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties. 

lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly. 

he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this. 

the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core. 

one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more. 

he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met. 

“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience. 

it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing. 

you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”

that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before. 

the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap. 

you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now. 

he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything. 

his gospel was on your pleasures. 

“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.” 

“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch. 

 you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant. 

and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin. 

he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap. 

there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you. 

at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal. 

he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”

yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”

“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap. 

you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees. 

“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth. 

you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.

“my perfect girl…” 

you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you. 

fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you. 

“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath. 

he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?” 

you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement. 

lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.

“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”

you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock. 

“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined. 

“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was. 

he liked to be fast. 

“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”

he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt. 

it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you. 

“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him. 

“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight. 

he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you. 

“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…

“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline. 

his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you. 

your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you. 

he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone. 

“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened. 

“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.

“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin. 

“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”

“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home. 

your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together. 

he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort. 

“did you mean it?” i love you.

“yes.”

lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.” 

a long time

“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime. 

“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.” 

you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided. 

you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now. 

────────────

weeps;;

i am also open for requests <3

[ja3yun]

Stitch Me Up | L.HS

underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!

wc: 4.5k+

synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time

a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm

Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.

No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying. 

You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.

Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do. 

Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life. 

You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.

You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance. 

Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.

When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.

A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.

You miss him.

Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind. 

The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.

After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.

Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.

What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?

Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.

As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.

Another knock.

Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape. 

So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.

The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.

“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.

Heeseung.

You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.

“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?” 

He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.

A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.

“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.

“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.

Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”

You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.

“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.

“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”

“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened? 

You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.” 

That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.

You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?” 

“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny. 

Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.

He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.” 

You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”

Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.

As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”

“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you. 

For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did. 

A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that. 

“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.

When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten. 

The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life. 

So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.

However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity. 

“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”

“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”

Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”

“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.

Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.

“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.

“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”

He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”

“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand. 

Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act. 

But this isn’t how it is now.

“Heeseung.” You warn him. 

He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.

“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”

“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”

It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore. 

“It’s not about missing you Heese-”

“I’ll quit.” 

You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.” 

Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”

“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”

Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”

Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”

He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.

Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.

“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.

You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on. 

Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.

“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”

You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.

Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.” 

To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”

This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved. 

Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”

You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.

“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more. 

He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.” 

Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again. 

Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.

“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.

Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.

He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable. 

“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly. 

Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.

Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.

His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now. 

Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.

Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.

“Yeah? How bad?”

“I’m starving for it.”

The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.

You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.

Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.

Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.

He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.” 

After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.

“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”

“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.

“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”

You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.” 

And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.

“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.

“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”

Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.

This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened. 

Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”

“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.

“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.” 

Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”

“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.” 

You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”

He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.” 

Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.

He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”

“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.

Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.

[btsvt-bar]

hurts so good

pairing ꩜ mean husband!mingyu x afab!reader

content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are appreciated!

warnings under the cut!

warnings ꩜ smut, fingering, masturbation (m. receiving), alcohol consumption, angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, light degrading, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, spanking (he slaps her ass like 4 times), begging.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

You and Mingyu first met when you were kids. Coming from rich families, you went to the same private school. And to be honest, you really hated him back then.

When you were teenagers, Mingyu was really popular. He was good-looking and smart, being one of the top students of the school. All the girls had a crush on him, even if he was mean to them.

He had always been self absorbed and rude to everyone. Especially to you, and you had no clue why.

You were the quiet, nerdy type. You kept it to yourself, being too focused on your grades and on getting into a good university. Plus, you were basically the only one who didn’t think he was hot shit — but, of course, you’d never say it out loud.

Both of you got into Business School, so you never really got rid of him. His annoying personality only got worse, making you his personal laughing stock.

It worsened when your families merged companies. Coming from the food and beverage industry, and being good friends, it felt natural to merge companies and create an empire bigger than it was before. And, of course, that union had to be sealed with the marriage of the heirs.

When your parents told you, you had a nervous breakdown. They didn’t understand why, labeling you as dramatic. Of course they wouldn’t get it, Mingyu posed as polite and respectful in front of them. But you knew better.

That’s how you ended up getting married to the man you despised. Needless to say, it was the worst day of your life.

Now, three years later, you’re still trapped in a marriage that feels more like a prison. You sleep in separate rooms and on the daily basis, you and Mingyu never really talk, unless it’s a work matter.

Also, you have a terrible sex life. You can count on a hand the amount of times the two of you did it. Yes, you are physically attracted to Mingyu. He has great abs and a big dick, plus delicious big arms and a toned chest. The few times you fucked, you were both tipsy and had had a fight before going out to some company party. It was always angry sex, and you never talked about it the morning after.

With your 4th anniversary approaching, people started asking when are you going to have kids. You dreaded this moment, but it seemed like you couldn’t scape it anymore. It got you thinking about your “marriage”, about how you wished things would change and how you wished Mingyu was a good husband.

As you do your makeup for the company dinner you have tonight, you try to be mentally prepared to be questioned, once again, about your pregnancy plans.

"Hurry up, we’re going to be late" Mingyu says outside your room. You finish putting on lipstick and grab your purse.

You find him waiting on the couch, looking really handsome in his all black tuxedo. His eyes scan you head to toe. His face remains emotionless, but you notice his eyes lingering a bit too long on your wine colored lips and modest cleavage.

"Let’s go."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

The music is a bit loud, so you have to stay all the way across the room to chat properly with other people.

You are stuck talking to Mingyu’s friends’ wives. It’s not that you don’t like them, because you do, but the topic of the conversation is not something you want to discuss.

"Cheollie’s been so good to me since I told him I’m pregnant" Gwen says while smiling fondly at her husband, who's across the room. "I mean, he’s always been sweet, but now he’s so much more protective and loving…"

"Wonwoo was like that too" Claire comments. "And he’s just the perfect father. Always wanting to help me out. And he won’t admit, but he loves to prepare Yeji’s lunchbox." The other women coo, finding it adorable. But you feel your face twist into a sad expression.

You knew all of them were in an arranged marriage just like yours. How on earth you were the only one who got unlucky?

"What about you and Mingyu?" Mona, Jeonghan’s wife, asks you. "Are you planning to get pregnant soon?"

You take a sip of your gin and tonic, trying to come up with an answer. They all look at you expectantly, and you don’t have the guts to let them down.

"Oh, definitely! We’re trying" you lie. The other women cheer excitedly.

"You’re gonna have the cutest babies!" Claire says.

"Oh that’s for sure. And y/n will be the prettiest mamma ever!" Gwen gushes.

You start to feel bad about lying, so you finish your drink and walk away to grab another.

As you wait, you see Mingyu chatting and laughing with his friends. And it makes you kinda mad that he’s having fun, and you’re not. When you look back at where the other wives are, you see them caressing Gwen’s pregnant belly and you decide you’ve had enough. You walk over to Mingyu, his smile fading the second he spots you.

"What?" he asks in a harsh tone, left eyebrow raising.

"I wanna go home, I’m not feeling well" you say the first excuse that comes to mind.

"Are you for real?" Mingyu seems so annoyed. Seungcheol nudges him, letting out a quiet ‘bro’. Mingyu sighs. "Ok, whatever."

The ride home is tense. Mingyu was holding back so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the driver, but as soon as you’re alone in your living room, he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.

"Why do you always have to ruin the night? Honestly, Y/N, you’re so fucking annoying!" he spits out.

You roll your eyes, deciding not to take shit from him. "I was bored and wanted to come home. You could’ve stayed."

"No, I couldn’t. That would make me look bad."

Usually, you wouldn’t say what you wanted. You’d just ignore and go to your room. But today, after a few drinks, and having to hear for hours on end about how your friends’ husbands were amazing, you felt fed up with Mingyu’s bullshit.

"Maybe you should worry more about being a good husband than about faking it." you point out while taking off your heels.

"Excuse me?" his nostrils flare, signaling how angry he was.

You just shrug, not giving a fuck if he was mad. "It is what it is, Mingyu. You don’t even try to be nice to me, but you worry so damn much about how you’re perceived by others." By now, your purse was thrown on the nearest chair and you’re shouting at him. "I’m done trying to be nice, and I think we reached a point where we should get a divorce and move on. Our marriage is a sham and I’m so fucking done with you."

The man chuckles as his tongue pokes his inner cheek. He looks really annoyed. Mingyu sighs and empties his pockets, putting his stuff in a bowl on the small wooden counter.

You feel livid and his lack of response keeps your mouth running. "What’s so funny?"

"Nothing, just the fact that you think that this shitty situation is all on me." He rises his eyebrows. "Get over yourself, Y/N. None of us is willing to take the first step, that’s why our marriage is a shit show." Mingyu turns around and heads out to his room, but the next thing you say stops him dead in his tracks.

"Why aren't you willing to take the first step? What have I done that is so bad that you can't even be my friend?" A few tears escaped your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away. "Does hurting me make you feel good or something?"

He had to give it to you. You are being really brave, questioning him and talking back.

The small bar cart catches his eyes and he decides that if you're finally having that conversation — one you should've had years ago —, he needs a drink to get through it. The room is filled with the sound of whiskey being poured. Mingyu takes a long sip, almost downing down the whole liquid, and refills his cup.

If he were to be completely honest, he would say he didn't even know why he hated you. He just did. Nowadays, he didn't mind your presence for the most part. However, when you hit his nerves, he wanted you gone. "Hating you is as natural as breathing for me. It's always been like this, why change it?"

"So we can, at least, coexist in peace? Have some fun, even? I'm not asking you to be husband of the year, but could try to be an ok one." You say with a tired tone, the whole situation already taking it's toll on you. Copying his actions, you poured some of the amber liquid for yourself. "You can get some tips from your friends. They're nice to their wives."

Mingyu snorts. "Yeah sure, if you're going to learn from your friends how to be a good wife…"

"I'm willing to try, Mingyu. But I'm not doing this on my own."

You both calmed down quickly, the heated beginning reduced to a low toned conversation. You’re impressed with how well things are going, considering the two of you usually shout and exchange offenses until someone walks away.

"We can try." His voice is quiet. Mingyu's staring at you, his eyes filled with undertones you don't comprehend yet. His moist lips are caught between his teeth. Shaking his head, he places the empty cup on the cart. "This is funny, you know."

"What?"

You can see he's conflicted between saying what's on his mind and keeping his mouth shut. "You can tell me, since we're being honest." You encourage him.

He looks you deeply in the eyes and says "We just called a truce like two minutes ago and now my mind keeps whispering that if we were a real couple, this would be the moment to kiss and make up."

Your mouth gapes in shock. The few times you had sex before, you hadn’t kissed. Mingyu would fuck you from behind, fast, hard and with a lot of pent up anger. And that was it. So you were caught off guard by his words. Seeing your expression, Mingyu quickly added: "The alcohol got to my head, pretend I never said anything."

Before he can try to leave again, you grab his bicep. "I hate to admit it, but you kind of have a point…"

Both of you start to feel this weird heat spreading under your skins. You sigh deeply. It’s weird you know precisely what’s underneath those black clothes. Mainly because you feel like you’re going to have sex him with for the first time.

"Want me to fuck you senseless until we spend all our anger and then we can start over?" He offers with a crooked smile you never saw before.

You feel slick pooling in your panties, your body already reacting to his filthy mouth. This flirty, sexy side of Mingyu is new to you, but you’re already loving it.

"Are you for real?"

Mingyu towers over you, making you step back until you reach the nearest wall. "Do I look like I'm messing around? Do I look like I won't fuck you until we both forget we hated each other in the first place?"

His serious eyes and deep voice make you sigh and bite your lower lip, fully invested in him. He reaches out and caresses your cheek before pulling you in for a kiss.

You both moan at the contact. His tongue dominates yours in a second, imposing a fast rhythm. Your core twists, tingling in a way that nearly hurts. Mingyu grunts when you close your arms around his neck and pulls gently at his hair.

The room temperature rises, leaving you both hot and bothered when you break the kiss. "Go to your room." Mingyu instructs and you comply. The walk is torturous, with shaky legs and your skimpy lacy panties sticking to your folds.

You’re shaking a little when you sit down on your bed. The night went from 0 to a 100 in minutes and you honestly don’t even want to think much about it for now.

"Can I come in?" Mingyu asks on the other side of the door, knocking lightly on the wood.

"Yeah, sure."

Mingyu took off his blazer and necktie, and the first buttons of his shirt are open, revealing his toned chest. Once again, you evaluate his beefy body proportions and purr quietly. Gosh, he’s hot!you think.

The hunky man looks around, analyzing the stuff you have in your room. You realize it’s the first time he enters it. "Do you want to keep going?"

Your eyes meet his and, for the first time ever, you see he’s actually worried about you. You limit yourself to nodding. "I’m gonna need you to say it, Y/N."

"Yes. Please get over here." You plea. Mingyu groans and crosses the room. His pants feel tight and uncomfortable, his cock pulsating with each step.

He gets on top of you, bunching your dress up on your waist. "Fuck…" he hisses when he sees your panties. You feel him caressing your clit over the lace and hold back a moan.

Mingyu moves the fabric to the side, easily sliding his fingers through your dripping cunt. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do you get off on fighting with me?"

Your face grows hot, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or actions. He teases your hole, prodding a finger in your entrance. All air leaves your lungs. You let out a whimper, which makes Mingyu chuckle.

"So responsive." He removes his hand, his eyes searching for yours again. "If I knew you’re such a horny slut, I would’ve done this a long time ago."

"Shut up." You sass, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just shut up and actually do something."

"You better watch your fucking mouth." He manhandles you until you’re laying on your stomach. He moves you on his lap and uncovers your ass.

To your surprise, he slaps your right butt cheek. You yelp, feeling your blood pumping quickly through your body. He repeats his action, this time with more intensity.

"Cat got your tongue?" He mocks when you stay silent. Truth is, you’re clamping your lips together so you don’t moan. "You’re soaking through your panties… Is spanking one of your kinks?"

Mingyu gives you another sharp slap, but this time he massages your flash to soften the blow.

"One more." Your voice sounds croaky as you speak.

"As you wish." He complies to your request, giving you the sharpest spank so far. You whimper and Mingyu smiles, pleased with himself.

Taking advantage of your position, he slides your panties off and pulls down the zipper of your dress. With his help, you undress.

You’re laying naked on his lap and just the sight of your bare back and red ass makes the blood in Mingyu’s body flow directly to his cock. He sighs and separate your legs just enough to touch your naked pussy again.

"Mingyu please." You cry out loud, needing him to slip his fingers in your hole.

"Please what?" He plays dumb and you feel the smirk on his voice. "I don’t know what you want, you’re gonna have to say it."

You sob in frustration. "Did you really think I was going to make things easy for you?" Mingyu’s hand ghosts over your body, giving you goosebumps from the heat he irradiates. "I hate you, remember?"

This is absolute torture. Your body is boiling with desire and need, you skin nearly burning up. Mingyu traces your tights, his soft touch giving you goosebumps. "Finger me. Please, I really need it. Please please please." You beg and Mingyu chuckles again, amuzed by your desperate tone.

He parts your legs a bit as his big hands trail the path from the back of your tights to your folds. You feel one of his fingers tease your dripping hole and you clench around nothing.

You’re so wet that his two fingers slide easily into you. Your inner walls clamp down on his digits and he groans. "You’re so tight, Y/N. Can’t wait to feel you on my dick again."

Mingyu begins to finger fuck you with a lazy pace, pulling out completely just to push back in at once. Your head feels cottony, like your brain weights nothing. Out of instinct, you bite your own hand to keep your moans from falling off your lips. Your hips move with a mind of its own, pushing back to meet Mingyu’s movements. Soon enough he hits that gummy spot inside you that makes you shiver. He notices you’re close to your climax, so, out of spite, he stops his stimulation.

"Why?" you cry out, tears accumulating in your eyes. "I was so close!"

"Because it’s fun" he laughs while stroking your ass tenderly. "Be good, lay down and spread your legs for me so I can make you cum."

Your limbs feel like jelly when you scramble around to get on your back. Mingyu gets up and pushes his dress pants down along with his black boxers. His cock stand hard and proud, the red tip glossed with pre cum. You muster the strength to get on your knees and approach him, your hands grabbing his shirt to start unbuttoning it.

You work your way up his body, taking each button out of its house. When you take the last one out, your caress his big chest, feeling his strong muscles under your sweaty palms. You smooth your way up to his shoulders and push his shirt down. He’s finally naked in front of you, in all his glory.

You trail his arms and abs, all the way down to his rock hard cock. When you wrap your hands around him, Mingyu lets out a sigh of relief. You stroke him slowly while savoring his low, deep grunts in your ear. Soon enough, you quicken your pace. Meanwhile, all you can think about is his cock splitting you open and you feel yourself getting wetter.

"Tha-that’s enough." He reaches for your wrist to stop you after a couple minutes.

Surprisingly, he pulls you in for another kiss. This time, it’s a slow, passionate one. Without separating your lips, he leads you to lay down again. The new position makes Mingyu’s hips align with yours, and you start rutting each other like animals on heat.

"Seeing you between my legs is so hot." you confess when you part the kiss to breathe. "But it could be better."

"Yeah? How so?" Mingyu pokes his cheek with his tongue, his confidence unwavering.

You bite your lower lips for a second. "You’ll look hotter inside me, dear husband."

His smile falters, his eyes turning darker and darker with desire. You know you said just the right thing to spur him on.

"I’d hold onto something if I were you."

You decide to ground yourself by hugging him. Without hesitation, Mingyu pushes in in one quick, firm trust. He’s swallowed in by your warm, soft walls. You see when his eyes roll back in pleasure, and his reaction boosts your confidence through the roof. On the other hand, his big cock splitting you open twists and tightens the knot on your core even more. You know it won’t require much effort for you to cum.

"Please move" you whim and kiss his lips softly. "I need you to move."

Mingyu gives in and imposes a fast, rough pace. You sink your nails on his back, trying to keep yourself from moving too much. He slides in and out of you deliciously, reaching all the right places. You moan loudly on his ear, and he huffs and puffs on yours. The loud sounds of skin slapping, added with the wet noises coming from your wetness, teleport both of you to a world of your own. A world where the only thing that matters is Mingyu’s rough thrusts and the way your insides mold perfectly to accommodate his dick.

After what it feels like forever, Mingyu folds your legs to your chest, and the position makes him reach new places inside of you. It’s when he starts rubbing circles on your clit that you feel on the verge of frenzy. "I’m almost there." You announce.

His hips redouble efforts, and within a few seconds, and a chant of "cum for me, dear wife" your mind turns blank and your soul is lifted off of your body.

You nearly pass out, all the stimulation being too much for you. Seeing you so blissed out pushes Mingyu over the edge before he has the chance to pull out. He grunts as he covers your walls with his warm milk. Your arms fall limp on his back, and Mingyu’s strength also falters, making him drop his weight on top of you.

He rubs his nose on your neck in an affectionate gesture. You smooth your hands on his back in a retributive way. The two of you stay silent for a while, enjoying the proximity and giving yourselves time to come back down.

When Mingyu slips out of you, a stream of white floods out of your messed up hole.

"Fuck, I should’ve pulled out." Mingyu searches for your eyes, his brown orbs filled with worry. You smile softly at him.

"It’s ok, I don’t mind." You reassure him. "Just help me clean up, yeah?"

Mingyu gets up immediately and enters your en suite. He comes back a minute later with a wet cloth in hand.

"You ok?" He asks while cautiously rubbing it against your sensitive cunt.

"I’ll probably limp tomorrow, but I guess that’s the downside of fucking your hater, right?" You joke and he chuckles while shaking his head.

"Well, I guess we’re sort of friends now."

"Yes, definitely." You agree.

He discards the towel and lays back next to you. You’re under the sheets now, and your body feels completely spent. "You’re not going to sleep, are you?"

You nod, feeling your heavy lids take the best of you. "I sure am."

Mingyu gets on top of you again, and hold your chin to make you look at him. "I’ll give you 30 minutes to recover, dear wife." The stupid nickname rolls out of his tongue with an almost tender laugh.

"I thought you were fucking me until we spent all of our anger." you state, struggling to keep your eyes open. "I don’t feel angry anymore."

"I do." His eyes hold mysteries you’re yet to discover. "I’m not done hating you yet."

His low deep voice stirs your insides. You sigh, feeling your heartbeat increase again. "30 minutes and you can hate me all you want."

"Deal." He presses a kiss to your lips and goes back to the empty side of the bed.

You feel him scrambling around looking for the TV remote control. As you let your tiredness get the best of you, all you can think about is that you’re going to fight with everything that you have to make things work out between the two of you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

read the sequel: down bad

[imliterallyellie]

is this thing on? 🎤

nsfw, mdni

pregnancy love-making with ellie

a/n this is lowkey bad chat! also not proofread. nothing i ever write is proofread!

you loved being pregnant, really. the thought of a little human growing inside of your belly was one that you'd never grow old of. the prospect of living happily ever after with your girlfriend and a little kid of your own was so enticing, you didn't even have to think twice the moment ellie proposed you two could start trying for a baby.

your ivf journey had been far from easy, to say the least. not just for you, not just for your girlfriend but also for your relationship as a whole. failed try after failed try, it was hard not to give up on your shared dream of raising a little baby together. after countless drives up and down the country visiting different clinics, getting advice from a dozen different doctors, however many late night arguments between the two of you and many, many failed tries, you were finally met with that double line on your pregnancy test. POSITIVE, it said. even after blinking profusely and pinching yourself in the arm to make sure you weren't dreaming, those 8 letters remained very visible on the little screen of the test.

the best part of it so far had been telling ellie. you found out when she was at work, and decided not to tell her over the phone - wanting it to be a little more personal than a text. her reaction was priceless, really. after the tears, the plenty of soul-crushing hugs and however many "i can't believe it" she had in her, came the seemingly never-ending night where ellie could just not keep her hands off you, as if she wouldn't be able to have her way with you anymore on day 2 of your pregnancy.

the first couple months were pure bliss. despite your best efforts to convince ellie that you were still capable of doing dishes or walking your dog, she wouldn't let you move a finger since you found out you were pregnant. she would come home late from work, already picking up extra shifts to cover your absence from work, insisting on cleaning your shared apartment because "her pregnant girl deserves a clean house".

although as time went on, you started to experience more and more discomfort from the little gremlin growing in your belly. once you hit the start of your third trimester it was as if your mood had completely shifted. you couldn't get around the aches anymore, the pressure on your joints was unbearable and let's not even talk about the amount of times you had to go to the bathroom a day - let's say your water bill was suspiciously higher than usual the last couple of months. with the physical pain came the emotional toll. as much as you tried to embrace the process of growing a kid in your belly, you couldn't help but start feeling down the last couple of weeks.

as much as your girlfriend tried to make you feel better about the whole situation, it didn't really help. you hated that you needed a supporting arm from ellie to do whatever you wanted to do, you hated that you couldn't walk up the stairs anymore without taking a break halfway, you hated that you couldn't even grab a snack from the top shelf anymore without having to ask for help, you didn't like the sight of yourself in the mirror, you felt ugly. you felt too much, you felt like a bore.

so ellie wasn't surprised at all when she came home from work on friday night, finding you curled up into a ball on the couch trying to find some comfort in your umpteenth rewatch of Friends and a bowl of popcorn at hand's reach.

she kicked off her shoes and hung her coat on the rack trying her best not to disturb you too much, quickly heating up some pre-made dinner she picked up from the store on her way home. she brought the bowl of spaghetti bolognese with her to the sofa, crouching down next to your face, which was a little puffed up due to the crying you had been doing that evening.

she caressed your cheek with her hand that wasn't holding her plate and pressed a soft kiss to your nose before speaking up. "had another rough day, baby?" you nodded and nuzzled your face into your girlfriend's chest, listening to the sound of her heartbeat while she finished her dinner.

ellie left your side after a couple minutes to quickly rinse out her dishes and came back, carefully helping you get up from the sofa. "let's get you to bed mhm, my love?" you felt too tired to speak up, so you just stood up and leant into your girlfriend's side while she led you to your shared bedroom, preparing for another restless night.

you went through your nighttime routine without too much of a struggle. despite your girlfriend having to help you to get out and in of your clothes, you freshened up your face and brushed your teeth before getting in bed.

on days like this, you and ellie tended to finish the day talking to each other, about everything and nothing trying to divert your thoughts from the burning aches in your stomach and back. but this time, your girlfriend clearly had other plans.

it had been a while since the both of you had been anywhere near sexually active. ellie had reassured you that it wasn't because you weren't sexually appealing anymore with a big belly - it was quite the opposite, really - but you decided to take it slow, not wanting to put more strain on a body that was already being put through so much. but sometimes, on days where you felt like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders, all you needed was some mind-blowing sex.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

so that's how you got here, completely splayed out on your feathery mattress, naked body on full display for your lover. you were nervous, to say the least. but ellie made sure not a single insecure thought made it's way into your head.

"you look so, so pretty like this, baby" "growin' a lil baby in here huh? god you're doing so good" "y'gonna be such a great mama" "been wanting to do this for so long"

you had missed this, missed her raspy voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear, missed the sensation of her breath tickling your neck, missed the feeling of her fingers tracing patterns into your inner thighs before she slid them through your folds, who were soaking wet.

"god, baby, you're so wet f'me huh? missed my fingers so much?" your cunt glistened with your juices mixed with your girlfriend's spit. clenching around nothing, there was no need in denying that a little teasing and touching had gotten you extremely worked up.

ellie knew that you didn't want to be teased today, you didn't want to have to wait, to beg, all you needed was the comfort of her fingers inside of you, stretching you out and spreading warmth all through your body.

your girlfriend slid a finger inside, both of you surprised at how easily it went in. you felt your cheeks heat up, a small smile playing on your girlfriend's lips. she showed mercy today, and decided not to tease you about it. she needed this as much as you needed this, if not even more. so she decided to just keep going, to give you what you want and what you deserve.

a second finger followed suit, giving you that delicious stretch you were craving. ellie hovered over your pregnant body and nuzzled her face in your neck, pressing sweet, open-mouthed kisses and whispering praises in your ear, trying to make the experience as comfortable and pleasant as possible for you.

you couldn't hold back the near-pornographic noises that were leaving your mouth the second ellie started thrusting her fingers in and out of you, after having given you some time to adjust. you were tight around her fingers, your cunt harshly sucking her back in every time she retreated her hand.

the knot in your stomach started building way too soon for your liking, so you told ellie to slow down. "mhm, none of that, baby. i wanna make you feel good, 'kay? we'll just go another time, i won't stop 'til you're satisfied."

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

fair to say, ellie kept that promise. an hour and multiple orgasms later, your body was absolutely spent. she carefully picked herself off the bed and went into the bathroom to get you a warm cloth, cleaning up the mess she made between your thighs. she came back and carefully closed the bathroom door, not wanting to disrupt your peace. ellie climbed in bed next to you, patiently waiting until you found a spot in which you were comfortable, resting your head on her chest. the sound of her heartbeat calmed you down, a much-needed change to the fast-paced evening you and her just experienced.

"thank you, els. i needed that." "anything for you, my love."

fair to say you and ellie discovered a bit more of your pregnancy sex together, before you had a little gremlin running around the house that was strongly going to limit your private time together.

[55sturn]

✮ A COLLECTION OF BLURBS ABOUT BEST FRIEND!CHRIS

disclaimers: this wasn’t requested but this is how i think being best friends with chris who also happens to be falling in love with you would go. suggestive and slightly 18+ nsfw content below, read at your own risk.

best friend!chris who is always there for you, day or night, early in the morning before the sun has completely risen and you’re drunk out of your mind sobbing because you’re homesick and he’s the closest thing to home, and during the late hours of night when the moon is at its peak and the stars are shining bright and you’re wide awake because you napped during the day and the two of you are walking through the streets of la reminiscing about a time before you could call la home.

best friend!chris who knows everything about you, from your favourite colour to the foods you despise and how to calm you down when you feel overstimulated and you’re having issues regulating your emotions, who has duplicates of your skincare cluttering his bathroom counter and the other halves to all the stuffed animals duos you find sitting on his bed and the couch in his room.

best friend!chris who finds his other half in you, your love for physical touch matches his, your personality mirrors his in an almost eerie way, he knows that you will match his energy and vibe without hesitation.

best friend!chris who is a big believer in eye contact, especially when it comes to you, he wants you to know you have his full attention, regardless of what you’re talking about, his eyes will always meet yours. and sometimes when the eye contact is so intense, to the point where you can’t hold it any longer because the colour of his eyes is too pretty and the way they’re droopy and tired and heavy lidded, almost giving them that bedroom eyes effect, makes you look away to hide the blush rising on your face, and the fact that if you stare at him any longer, you’ll kiss him, he chuckles lowly, gently turning your face back to his with a hand under your chin.

best friend!chris who isn’t scared to touch you, he will throw an arm around you and tug you closer, whispering whatever comes to mind in your ear, giggling as you roll your eyes at him, his hands are almost always on you, needing to feel you beside because you keep him grounded.

best friend!chris who is quick to size up any guy that dares to check you out or pick a fight with your bold drunken self that can’t seem to keep her comments to herself, and who isn’t scared to insert himself between you and whatever guy makes you uncomfortable.

best friend!chris who handles your attitude well, he doesn’t let it manifest into a bigger fight or deal than it needs to be and will counteract it by questioning why you’re coming at him sideways and will tell you to talk to him when you’re ready to act like an adult, and will not hesitate to grab your jaw, forcing you to pay attention, and understand that there’s not a singular reason for you to talk to him like that.

best friend!chris who very rarely snaps on you, who hates to see your demeanour morph and twist into something almost sinister with anger, and who hates it even more when it’s because of him. he’s always vowed to treat you with respect, meaning never to raise a hand or his voice to you, he views you as his equal, not someone to talk down to and try to control, so when he snaps, it’s not intentional, his mind is a whirlwind of overwhelming responsibilities and the possibility that he has feelings for you, and as someone who shows so many signs of adhd, it’s hard for his brain to quiet down as it is and when he’s overwhelmed, it’s game over, and he hates that his anger misplaced toward you.

best friend!chris who hates the guys and girls you date or hookup with, despite them being good natured people, he just cant see why they get all of you, not just the platonic side, when he’s right there.

best friend!chris who can’t deal with his jealousy in a relatively normal way, and decides to make a spectacle of it, blatantly showboating his jealous by picking arguments with the girls or the guys you date, even going as far as to physically fight one guy that you bring as plus one to a party you both attend, shrugging it off when you corner and ask him what the fuck he’s doing.

best friend!chris who stands quietly between your legs as you sit on the counter in his bathroom as you clean his knuckles and his split lip, shame and regret bubbling to the surface as you sigh, unable to fathom why he picked a fight with another guy that showed genuine interest in you for the fifth time that month, feeling hurt that he keeps preventing your potential happiness.

best friend!chris who tears up as you ask him if he thinks you’re undeserving of finding love and happiness, begging to know why he’s seemingly so against you being with anyone, and hearing you plead for an answer with such raw and deeply cutting sadness rips him apart so viciously that he can’t handle it so in attempt to make you see his feelings in the best way he can think of, he just grabs your face as firmly as possible while simultaneously holding you so delicately, and shoves his lips against yours, effectively silencing your pleas that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

best friend!chris who tries to leave the second you sit there, stunned and silent as you process what happened, but you’re quick to grab his wrist, turning him back toward you as your free hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him into angry and searing kiss while his hands wrap around your hips, pawing at the skin beneath your shirt in a futile effort to ground himself, to make himself believe that everything he’s wanted is actually happening.

best friend!chris who drags you to secluded alleyways and darkened corners every time you go out with friends because the urge to kiss you is bigger than his voice reason telling him to wait until you’re alone. he’s not intentionally hiding the new aspect of your relationship, he just wants it to stay innocent and pure, untainted by opinions of those who know.

best friend!chris who has half a brain when he’s not around you, which isn’t very common. but if you’re not nearby, he’s constantly thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing, what song is inevitably stuck in your head, if you’re thinking about him too, if you need him as bad as he always needs you.

best friend!chris who turns into a puddle of mush the first time you kiss him in front of your friends, not giving a fuck who sees because you just wanted to kiss him, and who stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you pull away before attacking your face with a million little kisses because he’s excited that he doesn’t have to kiss you in secret anymore.

best friend!chris who just about spills his guts and tells you he loves you the first time you two have sex, it’s almost pavlovian the way the words nearly tumble from his lips, he’s always associated sex with the person he loves most, and with that person being you, his rutting against yours so deliciously, it hurdles him closer and closer to saying fuck it and telling you but he holds himself back, he doesn’t want the first time he says those three words while actually meaning it to be tarnished by the feeling of chasing both your high and his, making it seem like he’s only saying it because of the sex.

best friend!chris who is devoted to your pleasure, he’s much more committed to making you finish and feel good than he ever has been with a girl before. he reasoning is that you’re miles and miles more important to him than any of his old flings and one night stands.

best friend!chris who doesn’t let your dynamic change drastically after realizing each other’s feelings, he doesn’t want to lose the elements that made your relationship in the first place, he still sees you as his best friend [ in a sense ] but he just gets to kiss you whenever he wants. you come first to him in every sense and aspect, you’re his main girl and that’ll never change, even when your relationship begins to.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @gamermattsgf @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @mattscoquette @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @thc-bolter @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @hysteria-things @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @bambi-slxt @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3 @certifiedstarrr @certified-chrisgirl @faeriedst

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[emmyrosee]

*NOT A REQUEST* just a thought I desperately needed to share….. Sukuna definitely does not like ur friends like he says u should ditch them for him and like whenever you have to leave his house early cause u promised to meet ur friend somewhere for smth he’s getting all pouty and finds ways for u to stay LIKE HES JUST SO SOFT FOR U OMGGGG🥹🥹🫡

I mean was I not supposed to write a drabble? Physically impossible-

——

“Baby, I’ll be back so soon!”

“No, you won’t.”

Sukuna doesn’t like when you leave him. It’s not uncommon for him to throw a small fit when you tell him you have to leave, when you assure him you’ll come back to him at night and curl up in his side while you both go to sleep.

But when you have plans without him? And you’re not just leaving for errands?

He’s the world’s biggest baby.

Sukuna crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, “you’re going to be out with her all night, and I’m barely going to see you because the second you come home, you’ll be too tired! How is that fair!”

You click your tongue in adoration and make your way over to him, cupping his sharp jawline in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose, “I can’t just be all yours; sometimes, you have to share me.”

“I share you,” he snaps.

You giggle and shake your head, “you share me with choso and yuuji while youre buried in my neck- and as much as I adore it, I do unfortunately have to see other people too, honey.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to want your company.”

“Kuna-“

“Oh no,” he begins dramatically, raising his hands in defense. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He huffs and makes his way away from you and to the couch, knee bouncing wildly as he tries to hide the facade that he actually, immensely, cares that you’re leaving. “Just say you hate my affection and go.”

You snort and quickly follow him to the couch, curling up beside him, “I love your affection. You know that. But I promised her we’d grab dinner, okay?”

“No.”

“And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t care.”

“Can I have a kiss goodbye?”

“No.”

You toss your arm around his shoulder and press a wet kiss to his cheek, making sure to make it noisy and dramatic, pulling back with a sticky “mwah.” When you make a move to go back in, you quickly spider your fingers up his side, making him grunt and shimmy away.

“Literally hate you,” he hisses. You laugh again and follow his body, this time aiming your kiss for his lips and humming happily when he connects it.

He sighs against your lips, “bring me home a piece of chocolate cake.”

“Okay-“

“And text me every hour, or so help me-“

“I will, baby.”

“And no later than 9, that’s too late-“

“Okay dad. Anything else?”

He pulls a face at your words before rolling his eyes and leaning back in for a kiss, “be safe. I like you or something.”

You smile and nod happily, “I will, sukuna.”

“Promise?”

You extend your pinky out to him, watching fondly as he extends his own to lock with yours, and you each kiss the tip of your finger as if to seal the promise.

“I promise.”

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Alludes to Miguel bring depressed, usage of alcohol.

Thinking about heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who spent the next week rotting in bed whenever he could, curtains drawn shut and sad music playing from his phone as he scrolled through all your old photos together. Feeling exactly how he did when you two had split 9 years ago.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who started to reply the last 12 years over and over in his head, from the moment he sat next to you during his first stats lecture to the moment he found himself in front of your front door in an attempt to ask for a second chance only to find out it’s too late form the smirk on your new boyfriend’s face. To the point of him getting distracted during everyday activities, like over serving his coffee and sitting at a greenlight until someone honked at him.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who starts to have trouble keeping up with his physical appearance. The same man who could get the asscrack of dawn to go on a run or to the gym, always clean shaved, hair always slicked back, never in his pjs unless need be, started to walk around with a 5 o'clock shadow, starts to drop off or pick his daughter up in his sweatpants and tank top he sleeps in, eyes more sunken in they they usually are.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who has a silent breakdown everytime you post something while out on a date with your new boyfriend.having to grip his phone so hard to the point his knuckles turn white to stop himself from bursting into tears while Gabriella is eating dinner in the next room.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who had a few too many drinks while Gabri was at a sleepover, calling up first his younger brother then his best friend. Rambling about how he should have seen the signs sooner, how he should have never let you go in the first place, because now you were in the arms of another man, and considering that it’s been over 3 months it looks like he’s there to stay.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who thought he was hallucinating from drinking too much when you showed up at his place at 11:30 at night

—

“I-I just, if… if I knew that I still loved-“ he interrupted himself to hiccup before continuing to speak to Peter over his phone, placing down another empty beer bottle on his living room coffee table. “I still loved her, I wouldn’t have let-let her get a new boyfriend in the first place ya know?” He slurred, hearing Peter’s response but none of the words registering. His mind calmed from the temporary haze the alcohol provided.

Knock knock.

Miguel rolled his eyes with a groan as he slowly got up from his seat on the couch. “I thought I told you I didn’t need you to come over Peter.” Miguel said as he grabbed the empty bottles and quickly placed them in the kitchen, his friend on the phone expressing his confusion as Miguel made his way to the front door with his phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Huh? I’m not at your door-“ The rest of the sentence turned into background static, not noticing Peter’s calls for him and asking if he was listening. Miguel was too busy being in shock. He blinked once, twice.

You were still there.

Bloodshot eyes, runny nose, rosey and tear stained cheeks, your shoulders shaking a bit as you hugged yourself. He didn’t even get a chance to ask what was wrong before you spoke.

“Can I come in?” You croaked, throat tense as you attempted to keep your voice from wavering.

He opened the door wider.

—

Part 4<

Part 5.5<

Not proofread.

Word count: 600

Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @strawberryjuice9 @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @lauraolar14 @migueloharasoulmate @famouscattale @loser-alert @maomaimao @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @miguelsfavwife @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths

[1whore1gang]

“You okay honey?”

Inspired by this post

Summary: the TF141 boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who will play the role of the doting yet protective boyfruend for you tonight so pervs don’t come flirt with you

It’s short, but my brain isn’t working lately

warnings: some sexual content

“Guys come on, seriously.” I stared on as Price and Soap were in the ‘finals’ of their competition to see who’d be your fake boyfriend tonight at the bar. Price cheers as he finally defeats Soap, wrapping his arm around you and placing a sweet kiss to your temple.

This had been an ongoing thing with the four of them since you had an altercation with a creep at a bar and had to punch said dude in the face. The boys didn’t want you to worry about that anymore, so they always play the role of the protective boyfriend/fiancé/husband for you. It’s worked well so far, so you can’t complain.

You also won’t complain about the attention you get from them.

Each man had a different way, each with their own pros and cons.

Gaz was sweet and affectionate, and he was calm of a guy were to come up to you. He handled everything with grace, but he wasn’t too keen on being super touchy. He’d compliment you, stand behind you during conversations and maybe place a hand on your tight, but that was all.

Ghost, was hardly a boyfriend type. He didn’t ever touch you, unless you physically forced his hand into yours, and even then he’d tense at the action. As much as he cared and wanted to protect you, he wasn’t there to pretend to be your boyfriend, he was there to pummel any man who looked in your direction.

Soap, he was so much fun when he was your fake boyfriend. He was touchy, clingy, fiesty and all over perfect. He was always by your side, hands around your waist, lips pecking your neck lightly, teasing you. That was his approach, he’d tease you all night, make you want him. Most of the time, the moment you both left the bar, you’d burst out laughing at how you two acted, but there’s been some nights you ended up in his bed.

Price, was a beautiful fake lover. He was sweet and tender. He catered to you and always had a hand on you, silently claiming you as his to everyone in the bar. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear when he saw another man looking, making you squirm. He was your favorite by far, the way he so gently held you, kissed you. His actions were tender, the fire only showing up if a man wouldn’t leave you alone.

“You ready doll?” Price’s voice sounded out. You nodded, leaning into him.

You all headed out to the bar, the night going wonderfully. You had beaten Ghost in a game of pool, had the bartender buy you all a round of shots, and more. The music had you swaying your hips as you lined up your shot in pool. You were against Soap now, the championships.

You were lining up to hit the 8-ball, your jeans tightening around your ass when you felt a pair of strong hands grope you. You smiled, prepared to see Price, but before you could turn around, your eyes met all 4 men across the table from you. All four of them looked angry. You fully stood up, turning around to see an older man, maybe a couple years older than Price looking down at you seductively. “Can I help you?”

“Your ass looked to delicious, I couldn’t help myself.” He licked his lips.

“I suggest you back off.” Your voice was matter of factly.

“Why? You gonna hurt me? A little thing like you?” He cooed. I couldn’t help but laugh at the man. “What’s so funny?” He smiled.

“I won’t hurt you, but they will.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder to the four men.

“You okay honey?” Price’s voice purred beside me, his hand landing on my back.

The guy looked up to Price, who towered over him. “I don’t know, am I?” I said, smirking at the man.

“I was just telling her how pretty she looked.” He gulped.

Price chuckled. “By grabbing her ass? Nuh uh.” Price stepped forward. “Let’s go have a little talk.” Grabbing the man’s arm, he took him outside of the bar.

Soap ran to you, asking if you were okay. You smiled and nodded your head. “Yeah I’m okay Johnny.” You patted his bicep.

Ghost and Gaz stood by the pool table, watching everyone’s things, including Price’s car keys and your purse.

Soon, Price waltzed back into the bar. His hips swaying as he sauntered back over to you, swooping his arm around your waist and pulling you in. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.” He kissed the top of your head as you returned to your pool tournament.

A couple of weeks later, you were all out a new bar across town, Soap’s arms wrapped around your waist as you spoke to some people. He had won the rock, paper, scissors that night. Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice, “You!”

Your face turned as Soap straightened up to his full height, one of his hands remaining on the small of your back. Your eyes met the man from the bar that night with Price. “Who’s this man? You get around fast.”

His voice was confident, like he had caught me doing something wrong. I looked at Soap, who looked ready to pounce. The fire was in Soap’s eyes as he bared his teeth in a smile. “You like my lady? Like what you see?”

“She’s a fiery one she is, just look at her.” The man bit his lip as he made a curve motion with his hands to simulate the shape of your hips. Soap let out a low chuckle.

“Any man knows you don’t answer that question honestly.” He dead panned, Soap’s voice deadly. “Why don’t I make this easy on you and let you walk away unharmed?”

The other man licked his lips, unmoving. Soap took a step forward, his hand sliding off of you as he stood just next to you, his size defined next to you.

“Either you walk away or you never walk again.” Soap growled.

The man quickly cowered, eyes widened. “Where do you find these men?” He shouted before scampering into the crowd.

“Thank you.” I said, kissing Soap. He was always much more willing to do PDA than the others, really making it believable to those in the bar that you were a couple.

“Anything for you my dear.” Soap said sweetly. “Shall we ditch this joint?”

I giggled, grabbing at his chest. “Are you gonna do that thing with your fingers again?” I bit my lip.

We heard someone clear their throat as we both backed away from each other, looking to the other 3 men. “We’re right here ya know?” Ghost spoke.

Soap and I laughed as the others bursted out in chuckles and smiles.

“Ya we know.” You said, earning some more chuckles out of the men and an ass grab from Soap.