#his voice the way he starts yelling at them

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

(read the prologue here)

The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.

Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.

The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.

Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.

“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”

You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.

“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”

He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.

He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.

“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.

Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.

“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.

“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.

Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”

“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.

Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.

“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.

“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she’d made you stop to pick up on the way here.

“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.

“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.

You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.

Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.

Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.

When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.

Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.

When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.

“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.

“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”

“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”

“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.

“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.

“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.

“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.

“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.

You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.

“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.

“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”

By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.

“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.

“Jesus, what you got in here?”  Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.

“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”

“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.

As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.

He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.

The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler. 

“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”

“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment. 

“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.

Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.

This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.

Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.

Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.

Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.

“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”

Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.

Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet. 

Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.

Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.

“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.

“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.

“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.

Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.

“What did I miss?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.

“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.

Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all. 

The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.

But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.

“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.

You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.

You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.

When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.

“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”

“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.

“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.

Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.

“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.

You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.

After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.

The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.

“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.

You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.

“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.

He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back. 

You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.

“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.

“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.

“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”

“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”

“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.” 

“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”

“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”

“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.

“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.

Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.

“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”

You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”

It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.

Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.

“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.

“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”

“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.

Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red. 

After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.

“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.

It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.

You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”

Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors. 

Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.

You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”

Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.

“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.

Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.

You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.

Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.

He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,

“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”

You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.

(chapter 2)

a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo

[cheriladycl01]

Fan Zone Fanatic - Lando Norris x Anxiety! Reader

Plot: You love taking the F1 bracelets off of fans because you will play with them whenever you get anxious and they are a source of comfort for you now.

(I literally do this with my bracelets lmao)

One thing you absolutely adored was fan interaction. As much as you got really anxious in large crowds with overstimulating sounds and smells, you loved helping give gifts to Lando and guide him to younger fans with caps pushed to the back and hold his own hand for comfort when he too got overwhelmed from the amount of people yelling his name.

Right now you were at the gates to the paddock and you were walking through hand in hand with Lando. When you saw a load of fans at the entrance.

“Lando! Lando”

“Come sign my helmet please”

“Lando I have something for you”

“Y/N”

Loads of voices came at one, you smile at Lando and nod your head over to the fans starting to drag him over to the fencing.

“Omg Y/N” one cries handing you a pretty generic McLaren hat, you take it to pass to Lando until she shakes her head.

“I want you to sign it! I’ve already got Landos” she smiles and you laugh, loving that people wanted your signature too.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin it!” You smile kindly at her and she nods again. You sign it and then she pulls a clip of the friendship bracelets out.

“Please take one” she smiles and beofre you know it, you have loads of girls gifting you friendship bracelets off their bags.

Before you know it, you have all sorts of bracelets covering your arms.

There was mainly Lando and McLaren ones, but a few Chili or Enjoy the butterfly’s ones snuck their way onto your wrist that when you were showing Lando all of them once you got into the paddock he was laughing so hard.

“I think my fans love you more than they love me if I’m being honest, they’re always so sweet and respectful to you” he smiles as he shifts through the bracelets before he finds one with your name on it that he takes off your own wrists and places it on his own. “This one im keeping” he comments.

“I think I might head to the fanzone today, deck myself out in McLaren merch and just see what happens” you grin and he looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Are you sure baby? I don’t think that’s a great idea, you’ve never experienced the fans without a barrier or anything …” he offers and you nod your head knowing what your getting yourself into.

“I know but I want to interact and I’m kind of obsessed with these bracelets now and I kind of want more of them!” You nod having made up your mind fully with a small smile matching it.

“Okay baby, but just keep one of the security with you. Just so they can help you out if needed. You don’t have to walk with them but just keep them close yeah? Take Dave, you like Dave right?” Lando says immediately concerned about you.

“I’ll take Dave just for you’re own piece of mind” you tease lightly nudging him before you take his team hat and grab one of his spare team tops.

“How do i look” you say with a twirl before ending with a hand in your hip.

“Beautiful” Lando mutters with heart eyes as he looks over at you.

Lando if he was being honest, never had it so good. You were literally perfect in his eyes. You treated him so well, and there wasn’t a singular moment he didn’t feel lucky to experience the weird and wonderful phenomena we call life.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush” you comment and he just laughs before kissing your cheek and sending you off.

“Don’t be gone too long okay! And check in with me! Please?” He asks.

“Ooooo wait can I buy some hats and get you to sign them please?!? I can hand them out in exchange for bracelets” you grin and before you know it you’ve got Lando signing as many hats as you could possibly fit in one bag.

He ended up signing 60 hats in the span of 20 minutes which is pretty impressive, considering he has to break to make out with you for 5 of those. Lando was an exceptionally clingy boyfriend.

Eventually you leave waving goodbye to him and smiling.

You walk out of the paddock entrance and around to the main gate. Where you’ve got the sunglasses and baseball cap on, it’s kind of hard to notice who you actually are so you were pretty confident that you could walk through pretty happily.

You noticed Dave, not too close and not too far. You walked into the fan zone seeing all the stools and shops with merch from different teams and the smell of the greasy hot dogs and chips.

You were just walking looking through one of the McLaren stands and about to pick up a Lando Norris t-shirt when a small tap was felt on your thigh. You turn round seeing a little girl, maybe 6 or 7.

“Hiya” you smile and the mum asks if you want to trade bracelets. You nod happily and show her your arms of the ones you had and she sees the LN4 one with his helmet design.

“Oh that’s a good one, Landos helmet” you grin and smile at her kindly taking it off your own wrist and putting it around hers.

“Woah you have so many” you laugh lightly seeing up to her elbows covered in them.

“Take two if you would like” the mum smiles and you nod.

“Why don’t you choose one for me, and then I’ll choose another one?” You ask the young girl and she nods excitedly looking over her arms before picking out a Max one.

“Max huh” you grin taking the MaxV33 off her and pulling it around your own wrist.

“I think I’ll take this one too, my goal today is to get one of every driver” you smile and she grins seeing you take the Zhou Guanyu one.

“I also have something I want to give you from Lando” you grin and she looks excited.

You pull out the signed hat and she squeals, looking over the signature.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She grins and pulls you into a hug. You laugh back and go to offer the mum one, but she politely shakes her head.

“Keep them for the youngsters” she smiles and you nod. The little girl finally lets go and hands the old hat back to her mum before putting the new signed on.

“Awww look at that! You look so cool!” You exclaim and the girl giggles more.

You say goodbye and get back to shopping. You end up buying an overpriced Lando top despite you wearing official staff uniform as of right now and thank the very shocked worker who asks for you picture once you’ve payed. You offer her a hat but refuses as she got one earlier before her shift from the paddock entrance.

You head into the heart of the fanzone where the sims are and all the other interactive stuff they put on for the fans. You can hear music from the massive stage, which is slowly starting to fill up.

20 minutes until Ferrari on stage.

1 hour till McLaren on stage. You knew you were going to go there for the McLaren one.

“Y/N?” You hear from you far left and see 3 girls with two guys behind them.

You smile happily jog over to them.

“Hey!” You grin and one of the girls squeals.

“Do you want some of our bracelets we brought way to many!” The girls admit showing you their bags full of the beaded bracelets.

“How long did this take you guys! These are incredible” you smile looking at all the different colours and types and the fact some had crystals on them. And all the funny messages rather than drivers names.

“Oh it’s nothing, just something we like to do in our free time!” One of the girls nods.

“They’re lying it took them days to prepare these for the race” one of the guys admits and you nod knowing that was far more accurate.

“How many can I take?” You ask looking at them, it was strange because even though these girls looked in their teens and younger than you they were all a lot taller than you. Making you feel kind of strange looking upwards at almost all of them.

“As many as you want” you start to look through. You burst out laughing at one that says Muppet 1 and Muppet 2 in one of the girls bags.

“Can i take both and give one to Lando so we’re matching” and she nods enthusiastically at the thought of Lando himself having one of her bracelets.

“Omg yes! Please please! Do you erm speak to any of the other drivers?” She asks and you nod, you were close with loads of the drivers. Especially their girlfriend as you were a social floater, sometimes you went out shopping with Alexandra, Charles girlfriend. Or going for brunch with Carmen, golfing with Lily or out to dinner with Oscar and his Lily.

“I do, why do you want me to give something?” You ask politely and she nods handing you a T-shirt. You open it up to see a funny print of George Russell T-Posing.

“I’ll make sure when I get back to the paddock to give this to George” you smile and she thanks you profusely.

You got to the next girls bag and find a Yuki Tsunoda One, and a Lando one that was of his Miami win. It had a little palm tree dangly on it and you knew you just had to take it.

And in the last one you picked out a Charles Leclerc and Ferrari one.

“This may seem rude but I don’t want to trade to many bracelets off, I want to keep as many as possible but I have other gifts” you smile and pull 5 signed caps out the bag handing one to each of them.

“They’re signed by Lando” you smile and they all looked shocked and one almost starts to tear up.

“Can I hug you?” One of them asks before you nod and pull her into a hug. You get a group photo before they run off all having really happy faces.

This is why you were so happy to do this, just seeing that smile on random peoples faces knowing you’d made them feel like that was so rewarding.

You walk to the sim racers and see loads of people on them, trying to get in good laps. You were utterly hopeless on Landos at home so there was no way you were trying it here and making a fool out of yourself.

“Girlie! You want a bracelet!” A voice from behind you says and you turn to look.

A girl comes running up to you, showing the clip of beads in front of you.

The afternoon continued like that. You took bracelets and gave people hats in exchange for them. You were thankful nobody had posted the pictures you’d taken with them yet, so it still didn’t feel like you were having people actively come try and find you.

You make your way to the stage seeing it’s pretty empty now that Ferrari have gone and you stand right by the fence where Lando will be able to see you. There’s two guys in McLaren hats next to you, one in a Lando one and one in a Danny Ric one.

“Damn that’s some fossil merch” you joke and they turn to look at you seeing you’re get up. They laugh and nod explaining how they live McLaren but Danny is their driver.

“Who do you support?” One of them asks before his mate bursts out laughing.

“Dude that Lando’s girlfriend” the other one with the DR3 McLaren hat laughs. And you laugh with him before the guys fully takes a look over you and flushes Red.

“I’m so so sorry” he says.

“It’s fine, but of course my driver is Yuki Tsunoda” you tease and they both laugh. You have a nice conversation with them, you’d get Lando to sign their hats when he was on stage.

The guys were really nice, just asking you questions about the paddock on racing and how long you’d followed the sport and it was nice just talking.

However the more people started to fill up the more you got anxious. Unconsciously your hand started to fiddle with the bracelets, lightly snapping them against your skin or pushing the beads from one place to another. The feeling giving you a certain kind of comfort to stimulate you enough that it was a distraction from all the noise around you.

All of a sudden the music gets louder beofre Naomi Schiff comes out to introduce the drivers to the now packed in crowd.

“Hello, how are we all feeling out there? Little warm today isn’t it. We’ll all of you keep hydrated nearest water station is up to your right” she indicates.

“Now without further or do, let’s find your drivers. Here for McLaren, Oscar Piastri and LANDO NORRIS” she calls and both the papaya boys come jogging out onto the stage.

“Hello Lando, Hello Oscar, how are you guys today?” She asks and both of them nod.

“Yeah really good, it’s pretty warm but we’re excited to be here” Lando says and Oscar nods in agreement.

“Yes, I think I’ve drunk 3 big bottles of water and two cans of monster” Oscar jokes and everyone in the crowd laughs.

“Enjoy the summer break?” She asks and they both nod.

“Yeah I got to spend lots of time with my girlfriend in England, and we …” Oscar starts but is interrupted by Lando.

“Oooo girlfriend, your girlfriend” Lando teases making Oscar go bright red in embarrassment.

“Says you, you wouldn’t shut up about Y/N” Oscar pushes back making Lando just laugh. The boys beside you starts whopping and cheering your name trying to point you out and draw attention to the fact your here.

People start to catch on and help to point you out, making you duck your head down in embarrassment as you laugh.

“Oh look Lando we’ve got some fans calling your name over here, oh wait. Is that … Lando is that Y/N” she says holding her que cards above her head to stop the glare of the sun to her eyes so she can get s better look at you.

You smile and wave being very familiar with the woman.

“Oh you’re right, give it up for Landos girlfriend everyone” Naomi cheers and you blush.

“Hi baby” Lando smiles shyly waving at you making you wave back.

“Wait did you chance tops?” He laughs seeing you now in the Lando Norris official team t-shirt. You nod and he just laughs shaking his head.

Before you know it he’s jumped down and is coming over to you. He pulls you into a hug, before signing some stuff around you and going back up to where Oscar is.

“Well, what did you do over the summer. You and Y/N were very present online” she adds knowing you always loved to post online what you and Lando did as it served as memories to share with a wider community.

Also a lot of what you posted have the fans a fix of their delulu needs which you were always happy to do.

“We want to Boa Vista and then we saw Martin Garrix a good friend play in Ibiza, we saw some of the other drivers there too. Went to a Taylor Swift concert, went to Bali and now we’re back here and racing” he grins and you smile at the thought of the summer holidays with Lando.

“Awww well sounds like you had a lovely time and you’re nice and relaxed ready to get racing again. How does it feel knowing how close you are to a championship with Max?” She asks and he nods.

“Looking for a good result this weekend but with my lucky charm here I’m hoping for a win” he nods and after some more questions posed to Oscar and Lando people start to leave the minute they are off the stage.

You keep a hold on one of the bracelets going behind the stage to where Lando is waiting for you. Dave helps you get past the majority of the crowd who some ask for pictures with you and more bracelets are given to you.

You round the corner into the VIP second and a Lando immediately comes up to you wrapping you in a hug.

“That was nice seeing you it there, but I was terrified the whole time with how cramped in you all looked” he admits as he kisses your temple.

“Look how many bracelets I got! Oooo look I have one for you too, a matching one with me” you grin and hand him the muppet number 1 and show him your muppet number 2.

“These are brilliant. I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.” He smiles and walks you over to the car to take you to the paddock.

Going forward you actually wore those bracelets given to you all the time. You and Lando wore the muppet ones everyday but you would change up which ones you’d wear on your other wrist each day but you always made sure you had one especially when you knew it was going to be an anxiety filled day.

The fans would never know how much these bracelets meant to you but you were so thankful.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[delilahsturniolo]

bejeweled - m.s

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summary: y/n just can’t resist matt when he wears rings, and she immediately gets turned on while she’s streaming with the triplets.

this story contains: smut, fingering, unprotected sex and more.

written by: @delilahsturniolo

“best believe i’m still bejeweled, when i walk in the room.”

“i can still make the whole place shimmer.”

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“What’s the fuck is up chat!” Matt yelled as he started the twitch stream. I sat on Matt’s lap, his arms resting around my waist, my blanket draped over the both of us comfortably.

Nick was sprawled out on Matt’s bed while Chris sat in a chair next to us, gulping down lemonade from the bottle.

“Chat, say hi to Y/n.” Chris smiled warmly. I waved to the camera, the chat was flooded with excitement and people spamming my name. “Hi guys.”

Matt looked up at me, smiling. One of his hands moved from my waist to my thigh, rubbing it soothingly. His fingers had silver rings placed on them, his veiny hands complimenting them.

I couldn’t look away from his hands, something about his rings were so attractive. Matt’s hand moved to type something on the keyboard, the way his fingers moved made me feel a certain way, my heart was racing.

Nick was ranting about something, but I wasn’t listening. I took Matt’s hand and gently fiddled with his rings. Matt looked at me, noticing how quiet I was.

“You okay sweetheart?” Matt asked me, whispering so only I could hear. I was snapped out of my thoughts.

“Y-yeah..” I responded, my voice cracking as I continued sliding Matt’s rings on and off his fingers.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about? Hm?” Matt taunted, he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what I was thinking about.

I felt a familiar heat between my legs, my underwear immediately dampening from his words. “I like your rings.” I whispered, the stream couldn’t hear what we were saying because of Nick’s yelling. Thank god.

“Yeah?” Matt slid his hand under the blanket, resting his hand on the waistline of my pajama shorts. My breath hitched as I felt the cold metal of his rings against my skin.

He slipped his hand into my underwear, his middle finger grazing my soaked folds, I flinched slightly.

“Alright chat…” Matt spoke, acting as if he wasn’t torturing me right now. “How was everyone’s weekend?” Matt spoke, he suddenly curled his finger, I squeezed his wrist under the blanket tightly, holding back a moan. I felt the metal of his rings inside of me.

“Bleh, boring.” Chris responded, Nick rolled his eyes. “Yeah because you never leave the house.”

“Not true.” Chris teased Nick.

“Y/n? Wanna tell chat about your weekend?” Matt asked me, his thumb stroked my clit in circles.

“Mm—I’d r—rather not..” I stuttered, my voice wavering. “Why? What’s wrong hm?” Matt teased, his ringed fingers beginning to run against my slick folds.

“I think I—I’m just not feeling good.” I said, struggling to keep it together.

“Yeah..you don’t look so good.” Nick replied.

“Okay, we’ll be right back chat. I’m gonna get her some medicine.” Matt quickly pulled his fingers out of my underwear. He grabbed my hand and stood me up, practically dragging me away.

He pulled me through the hallway, and into the bathroom. Matt quickly shut the door, locking it behind him.

He grabbed my waist, lifting me up and making me sit on the bathroom counter.

“Matt..need you so badly..” I desperately spoke, Matt hushed me, gently pulling my shorts and underwear down.

“Shh, if we’re gonna do this you need to be quiet mkay?” Matt insisted, I nodded.

I let out a soft moan as Matt slid a finger into my core, pumping in and out slowly. My back arched against his touch, longing for more.

“Oh—oh my god..” I moaned, Matt’s rings repeatedly hit my clit. The pleasure was overwhelming.

“Yeah? Feel good?” Matt taunted, his fingers slipping out of me. His hand smacked my pussy, I screamed louder than I should’ve as I felt the cold air between my thighs.

Matt shoved his fingers into my mouth, soaked with my own wetness. “Didn’t I say be quiet?” He whispered. His rings rested against my tongue.

Matt used his free hand to fiddle with his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring out. Without warning he immediately slammed into me, my moans muffled.

He popped his fingers out my mouth, his veiny hand moving to hold my chin, forcing me to look at him. His thrusts didn’t bother slowing down. My legs shut, Matt pushed them back open. “Keep em’ open f’me..” Matt whispered into my ear.

“Mmm, matt—so close..” I spoke, my voice hoarse as I felt a knot in my stomach building up.

“Go ahead.” Matt demanded.

I didn’t hesitate to release, immediately feeling relief as Matt pulled out.

His face was sweaty, he ran his ringed fingers over my cheek bone, gently leaning in to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

“You were so amazing baby.” Matt said breathlessly, he ripped off a piece of paper towel from the roll that sat on the counter.

He slowly opened my legs again, cleaning me up lovingly.

My phone was on the floor next to my clothes, it buzzed. Curiously, Matt picked up my phone. He was about to give it to me to look at the text, until he saw who it was from.

2 new messages from: Nick ⭐️

“We’re fucked.” Matt looked up at me nervously, handing me the phone.

“What do you mean?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows as I opened my texts.

shit.

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join the taglist here!! ✨

author’s note 💌 : not sure why but i feel like i’ve read stuff like this before on here so huge credits to anyone who wrote something like this concept!

© delilahsturniolo

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[iimplicitt]

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT. 3 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part three of three, link to part one and two here

summary: tensions are at an all time high between the mclaren drivers. y/n makes a choice. lando gets punched, both by reality and a friend.

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though. lando, i apologise.

word count: 5.5k

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The Italian sun was warm and for the most part, all you could see was a sea of Ferrari red in the crowd. Not a surprise given it was Monza. The last twenty four hours had been a bit chaotic. Lando got on pole position, and despite everything you were still happy for him. That annoying part of yourself that was a touch too sentimental. Of course it wasn’t that simple, though. McLaren locked out the front row, Oscar starting on P2.

It was obvious to anyone he was hungry. For more, like any other driver but there was simply something different about the way Oscar had been carrying himself lately. After the complicated first win he had in Hungary, the world knew he still felt like he had to prove himself. That wins didn’t have to be handed to him.

You watched, nervous and hands sweating with the heavy headphones over your ears. The drivers had just finished their warm up lap, filing into position. Your eyes flicked between the two McLaren’s, a whole range of complex emotions eating you up inside over the pair of them.

Those red lights lit up one by one, then pouring out of the headphones the infamous words “It’s lights out and away we go!” Engines roared, your jaw fell open.

Oscar overtook Lando’s lead into turn one.

Charles had won, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy for him. A Ferrari driver on top of the podium in Monza was always a sight to behold.

Your breath was held tightly in your lungs however as you watched the Tifosi flood onto the track because there was a bit of commotion going on after the initial post-race interviews of the top three drivers. Oscar finished P2, Lando finished about six seconds behind him and landed P3.

The two McLaren drivers had come to an abrupt stop in the hallway that lead up to the cool down room, their shouting could be heard in the garage despite the roar of the crowd outside. Your stomach dropped, you could barely see them but that didn’t matter. Lando was the main one yelling, Oscar on the other hand had a calm rage about him, his voice sounding more cold than you had ever thought him capable of.

The team looked around awkwardly for a few moments before someone ran to go get Andrea Stella. Not a moment later the team principal threw off his headphones and ran to try and diffuse the situation.

You stood there against the wall, acutely aware of all the cameras that may be filming into the garage. Knowing Netflix was about to have a field day with this. The season had been so messy, and that wasn’t even in regard to your own issues with the drivers but the grid in total.

Messy. What a simple word for such fucked up situations.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A WEEK AGO, ZANDVOORT

He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Not as he had recklessly driven back to the hotel, not as you rode up the elevator, not as you two stumbled down the hallway to his hotel room. The moment it was in sight he had pushed you against the door, forgetting he was supposed to unlock it first but his mind was on other things.

The feeling of your mouth against his, your nails dragging against his scalp, the way your chest pushed against his in an attempt to get closer. He was consumed by you, not quite believing this was real. Years, he had dreamed about this moment for years. The longing he had felt about getting to touch you like this had driven him to the brink of insanity. He was terrified if he took his hands off you, you’d disappear. That he would wake up alone again in bed, hating what his life had come to despite the building success of his career.

Oscar pressed your body onto the door further, completely covering you with his own body, every nerve ending on fire with a desperate need to be close to you. His hips pressed into yours, a hand cupping your throat while the other tugged at your shirt in a fit of desperation to get at your skin.

Call it demented or sick, but at that moment he wanted to consume you. And he wanted you to do the same to him, to devour him in any way you so pleased.

His tongue danced against yours, teeth hitting and the sounds being made were vulgar but only sent him into a further frenzy. You were right here, giving in as well and he felt like his heart was about to explode.

“Bed,” you gasped out in between kisses barely finding a moment for air.

He didn’t take his mouth off you as he haphazardly dug in his pocket for his wallet, shoving it against the sensor and hoping it would pick up on the hotel key. Not a moment later there was a click and he pushed the door open, one arm wrapping around your waist as he backed you into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He picked you up, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he did so. Instead of depositing you on the bed, he sat you down on the desk, arm swiping out and not caring what he knocked over.

His strong hands grabbed at your waist, yanking you to the edge of the bed and his erection pressed snuggly into you. He shuddered at the contact, feeling delirious.

Oscar needed to see you, all of you. Now. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to lift. “Arms up,” his voice was soft but commanding, and the blush dusting your face was something he wanted imprinted in his mind for forever.

You did as told, the fabric sliding up and over your head. The shirt fell to the floor soundlessly, his hands resting on your hips as he marvelled at you. Your bra was white cotton, no padding and due to the rain the fabric was practically see through. Hiding nothing and making your hardened nipples stand out. He groaned, not being able to help himself as he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to each one.

“Oscar,” your voice was shy, timid and shaky. He looked up at you, watching with apt attention how you bit your lip and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Listen, I know I might not look like a lot of the other-“

He cut you off, grabbing hold of your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression was stern. “There’s no one else I want this with. Okay? No one, not even as I’m rotting in the earth will there ever be anyone else.” His calloused hands cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped out of your pretty eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in every minuscule detail that made up your face.

You tugged on his shirt this time and he quickly rid himself of it for you, the cool air of the hotel room hitting his skin. He watched as your eyes raked over him, every line of muscle that adorned his stomach, to his neck, then his face.

“This is wrong.” You said quietly, even as your fingers hooked into his belt loops and tugged him into you again.

“Probably,” he said in return, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders before undoing the clasp at the back, watching in adoration as it fell away from you. “But I’ve dreamt of this for years and it’s going to take a nuclear bomb to stop me from fucking you, Angel. I hope you know that.”

Your breath hitched and he blinked before you were pulling him down to meet your wanting mouth again, moaning into the kiss as he began to undo the button and zipper on your pants. The moment felt so surreal. If this did turn out to be a dream, when he woke up he was genuinely considering killing himself. He wouldn’t be able to live with the torment any longer.

He smacked your ass lightly and you yelped, getting the hint and lifting your hips for him so he could slide your pants off. Oscar fell to knees and he tugged off your shoes, then your pants, looking up at you like a deprived man seeking salvation at the altar. You chest was heaving and he watched in fascination the way your breast moved and your ribs expanded. Your pupils were blown wide and hungry.

He placed a hand on each of your knees, slowly pulling them apart as he kept eye contact. Oscar placed hot, open mouthed kisses as he danced up your thigh, closer and closer to where he knew you needed him most. The white cotton of your panties giving off a twisted sense of innocence that made him even more hard, if possible. The white fabric made it easy to tell how wet you were and he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears knowing that it was all for him. Moving closer, he pressed a warm kiss on your navel, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume and he knew he would die a happy man after this.

Next, he placed a kiss right onto your clit, finding it blindly through your underwear.

You yelped at the contact, hips thrusting up into his face and he couldn’t help but smile. His grin surely wicked as he looked up at you through heavy lidded, lust filled eyes.

You swallowed roughly, “Oscar, please.”

He kissed you again, savouring the taste of you and how drenched your panties were, working you through the thin cotton as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Oh my god,” your voice was a whine, your nails digging into his scalp. The pain of it quickly fizzled into pleasure though as he moaned into you, mouth following along with your desperate thrusts.

“Please.” You panted, “I need you, Oscar.”

He pulled back, feeling hazy and in utter bliss. “How badly?”

“So fucking much.”

Oscar ripped your underwear off you, leaving red marks where the fabric had snagged against your skin. With one hand splaying against your stomach, he pushed you backward until your back hit the window, neither of you caring who saw. Fuck, you were stunning. Swollen and glistening for him, practically dripping out into his lap with how wet you were.

He could feel your heart beat as he got closer before looking up at you, watching to see your face when he finally tasted you. Lowering himself, he licked long and flat up your cunt, moaning along with you as you trembled violently, your hands digging into his hair to pull him closer.

One arm reached around your thigh, fingers dancing across your hip before he pulled the skin above your pussy taught, exposing you to him fully to get unobstructed access to your clit. With his other hand, he pushed your other knee up and out, wanting you as exposed as possible. He knew there was a mirror behind him, so before he dove back in like a man starved, his rough voice carried out around the room. “Look at yourself.”

You shook your head, clearly embarrassed. “Oscar—“

“If you stop or if you close your eyes, I’ll stop.”

You pouted, the sight devastatingly adorable and he wanted to bite at your lip but he had other things on his list first. He didn’t move until your eyes hesitantly moved to the mirror behind him, breath hitching at the sight of him kneeling between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth latched onto your clit, sucking harshly but slowly, the paired strokes of his tongue deliberate, and without warrant a shout left your lips. You had smacked a hand over your mouth, but he quickly tugged your hand away, he wanted to hear you.

Hands returning back to his hair, he watched you as you watched yourself come undone against his mouth. Your jaw falling open as two of his thick fingers sunk into your pussy, instantly clenching around him. He must really have amazing self control because he felt like he could cum in his pants then and there.

“So fucking warm,” he said against you, lapping at your clit as your thighs trembled. “And tight, for me.” His fingers set an unrelenting pace, curling up in a come hither motion and he knew he was dragging the pads of his fingers against your g-spot with the way you were screaming his name.

“Oscar!” You threw your head back against the window, still obeying him and keeping your eyes on the mirror. Your hips rutting into his mouth and fingers, desperate for a release.

Your voice sounded like church bells to him and he added another finger, three digits fucking you at a relentless pace. He felt your stomach tighten, fingers clenching around him. You were breathless as you forced the words out, there was even some drool starting to leak from your lips. “I’m— I’m going—“

“Come for me, Angel. Give me all of it.” He didn’t stop, not even as liquid started to spurt out of your pussy, coating his lips and chin as he continued his relentless licking and sucking on your clit, not stopping the thrusting of his fingers and you screamed and clamped your thighs around his head, being sent into absolute overdrive as you twitched against him. Your orgasm was violent, and he wasn’t letting up.

“Oscar, oh my god.” Your voice was hoarse and rough, followed by another orgasm that completely shattered you as you convulsed against him. He was a moaning mess, pre-cum soaking through his boxers and trousers. You yanked his head back by his hair and he let go of your clit with a resounding pop.

“Greedy.” You teased through panting breaths, a delirious smile on your face and he couldn’t help but share it.

“You taste like heaven.” He leaned in again, gently licking a long stripe up your entrance, collecting whatever wasn’t on his face or on the floor. You shuddered against him as he placed a light kiss against your clit.

He watched as you stood up on trembling legs, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs as he stared up at you from where he was, still on his knees. Your fingers brushed his hair back from his eyes, taking in his face and swollen lips, but his brows started to furrow as your eyes began to water.

“What’s wrong?” He said quietly, pulling you to him so he was hugging you around your legs, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you.

Shaking your head, you wiped the tears away and smiled. “I’m happy. And I’m mad we waited so long.”

“Yeah,” Oscar said softly, giving you a warm smile as he slowly stood up, his fingers dragging up your body as he went. He cupped your throat with both hands as he got to his feet, pressing his thumbs up under your chin to tilt your face to him. He kissed you gently, yet there was still a rough desperation underlined in it. “It’s a good thing I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Your eyes glowed, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning you and backing you up slowly till the back of your knees hit the bed and he lightly shoved you onto the mattress. He watched you carefully as he began to undo his belt, watching as your eyes traced down his toned stomach, down his happy trail, and to the obvious bulge in his trousers.

“What do you have in mind?” Your voice was timid, but clearly excited as you then sucked in a sharp breath as he took off his trousers and boxers in one go, his cock twitching at the cool air in the room and the tip was glistening and red.

“Oh, Angel.” He walked forward, slowly climbing over you and parted your thighs with his knee. He lowered his face, nipping at your neck gently before his hot breath danced over your ear. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He took hold of himself, dragging the tip up and down your entrance and he just about came undone there and then. This had to last, he needed it to last.

Oscar’s eyes locked onto yours before he sunk in, burying himself to the hilt and a loud groan left him while you moaned, throwing your head back against the sheets. You were devine. Warm, wet, already spasming around him. He was losing his hold on his sanity as he slowly pulled back out, then slammed back into you with a brutal thrust.

“I hate that he got to fucking touch you.” The words had slipped out before he realised what he had said. But he meant every syllable.

“I know,” you gasped out, nails dragging against his back, surely leaving red streak marks but he didn’t care.

Oscar had driven himself mad knowing that Lando got to see you like this. Got to feel what it was like to have you wrapped around his cock. Haunted by the thought of his teammate making you cum. Horrified by the thought of you screaming Lando’s name.

He didn’t realise it, but a hand had wrapped around your throat, choking you as he fucked you with next to no gentleness. Bottoming out each time, his other hand taking hold of one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, needing to go deeper.

You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hit your cervix over and over again.

“I thought of you every time he touched me,” the cruel admission left your lips. Both of you were horrible, awful people. Yet neither seemed to care as your teeth sunk into his forearm that was next to your head, tears slipping out of your eyes as you screamed. His pace was brutal, unrelentless. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room and an animalistic groan left him and you clenched around his cock.

Oscar turned you both so you were facing the mirror, his hand that was choking you tilting your head back so you could watch him fuck you upside down. “I’ve gotten myself off every week to thought of fucking you like this. Anywhere. Of bending you over the sink. Fucking you in the shower. In my driver’s room before a race. I’d fuck you in front of the whole paddock if I could.”

You choked out a cry, blood rushing to your head from the lack of oxygen. He knew you liked the filth he was muttering due how hard you were clenching around him, your hips going up to meet his thrusts.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Coming around my cock as everyone watched. Knowing Lando would be watching as I made a mess of you.”

“I’m going to come,” you cried, coughing violently afterward. He may have gotten ahead of himself as he pulled his hand away, noticing a red hand mark on your throat. But the sight only spurred him on further, his hand dancing between your bodies before finding your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

He felt your orgasm before he heard you. Your cunt clamped down onto his cock, screaming his name as you convulsed. God, you were ethereal.

His thrusts became sloppy and unorganised, one hand holding your hip and yanking you down onto him as the other continued its agonising circled on your clit.

Oscar cried out your name as he came, yanking you all the way down on his cock as his cum spilled hotly into you, filling you up in such a primal way it made another wave of pleasure shoot through him.

He collapsed on top of you, both your bodies sweaty and he began peppering kisses across your face. Kissing your tears away and muttering mine between each.

Oscar was still buried deep inside you, holding his release in and he never wanted to move. Your chest heaved, slowly coming down from your high. He felt your arms move before your hands gently took hold of his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours.

Messy trails of mascara ran down your cheeks, painting a beautiful picture of ruin in front of him. If his muscles weren’t so tired, he would’ve reached for his phone to take a picture.

“Oscar,” your voice was a whisper.

He hummed, lifting a hand up to gently tug at your bottom lip with his thumb. You seemed hesitant, searching his gaze for something. But he didn’t need to be given any hints.

“I love you,” he said the words against your lips. He said them again against your forehead. Again as he kissed each of your eye lids. Your nose.

You started to cry again, a grin stretching at your lips as you spoke the words that sealed his fate, “I love you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

MONZA

You shut the door softly behind you, looking at his back as he leaned over to untie his shoes.

Clearing your throat, Lando sat up and turned, raising a brow at you. “Yeah?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you considered how there was no hello. No smile, though you weren’t expecting much of one. Sure, he scored a podium, but it wasn’t enough.

You stood there and stared at him for a moment. Genuinely wondering why he had even asked you out in the first place. What was the point? Then again, you shouldn’t have said yes in the first place.

Sighing, you brought out your keys and took off the one he gave you to his flat in Monaco.

His eyes widened, realising quickly what was happening and he stood up, crossing the room and taking hold of your hands to halt the finality of your actions. “Hey, what’s going on?” Lando cupped your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Talk to me, baby.”

Despite everything, you still felt guilty. Your mind couldn’t help but wander over all of his sweet moments with you. Because he could be, he could be really fucking sweet. Romantic even. But he was also really fucking awful sometimes. Mean, even.

Your brows furrowed, taking hold of his wrist. “We both know I’m not what you want.” You looked at his eyes, how stunningly green they were and curious how he was able to look at you in such adoration sometimes. “And we both know I know about the other girls.”

Lando clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering shut as the words were finally out. Sure, he may actually want you. He just didn’t only want you. Besides, you knew you were in no place to pass judgement anymore. With your other hand, you brushed a thumb over his cheek bone, his eyes then opening. Looking at you in confusion, not understanding why you weren’t angry. Not understanding why you were being so… understanding.

With a small sigh, you kissed him softly on the cheek before dropping his key into his hands. He didn’t stop looking at you, and maybe you were reading too much into it, but he nearly looked sad.

“Bye, Lando.”

And you left.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

AZERBAIJAN, BAKU

The thick rug that ran down the middle of the hallway muted your footsteps as you walked. You had flown home during the small break between the last race and the one that’s tomorrow. You hadn’t been able to see Oscar, though you had texted a few times.

You came to a stop outside of his door, you hadn’t told him when you were coming back. He understood you needed a break.

Stealing your breath, you knocked on the door once. The sharp sound echoing down the long hallway. Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door before it opened, Oscar blinking at you in surprise before he grinned at you.

He was so effortlessly handsome, wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly and a pair of grey sweats. You licked your lips, mouth feeling dry and looked down at your shoes.

“Angel?”

“I broke up with Lando.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard him step forward, his warm and rough hands holding your face, tilting your face up to his. The look on his face, it was hard to put distinct words to it but the look of hope in his eyes made your knees weak.

“What?”

“I broke up with him.” Your breathing was uneven, and despite everything, doubts still lingered in your brain. “And you’re under no obligation to—“

Oscar pulled you to him, kissing you with such urgency your head spun.

You smiled into his mouth, “I’m all yours.”

He picked you up, looking at you with heaven in his eyes, carrying you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando watched as champagne sprayed out and over the podium, watching Oscar laugh and smile as he got drenched with the Australian flag glowing above the top step. Despite his annoyance, he couldn’t hate him. His teammate was a good driver and a good person.

All of Lando’s karma was finally catching up to him, but he clapped anyway. Smiled for photos. Patted Oscar on the shoulder in congratulations, who in turn looked at him sceptically before eventually giving him a small smile.

A tiny truce.

After the crowd had died down, Lando had grappled with his consciousness for a while before forcing himself to go to Oscar’s room. He could at least try to make some sort of amends. They were going to be teammates for a while; they might as well try and get along. Water under the bridge.

He knocked on the door, he didn’t hear a response but slight muffled shuffling. He rolled his eyes, they needed to get this conversation out of the way or else Lando wasn’t sure he’d pluck up the courage again. Plus, he was sure Oscar was in a good mood after a win.

Testing the handle, the door clicked and he pushed it open, mouth opening to say something when he suddenly froze at the sight before him.

You were sitting up on the dresser, Oscar standing between your legs and his hands under your shirt, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your desperation was palpable, hands buried in the Aussie’s hair and moaning into his mouth.

Lando blinked a few times, his mouth dry and feeling as if he’d vomit. Quickly and quietly, he shut the door and started to walk away. His pace brisk, trying not to cause a scene and run.

He knew he was in absolutely no position to feel upset over this, but he couldn’t help it. He did. He knew he had fucked up. Fucked up a wonderful opportunity you had given him. You were perfect in every sense of the word, but he had been too caught up in his ego to give a shit if he fumbled one of the best things life had tried to offer him. Right after you left his hotel room in Monza, he sat there staring at the key he had given you for a pathetically long time as a cold wave of reality slammed into him.

Not sure why, but his feet brought him to Red Bull’s section of the paddock, eyes searching desperately for Max. He was always someone he could talk to, even in the worst circumstances the Dutch man somehow always knew what to say.

After a few frantic minutes of searching, he finally found Max and called out to him. His friend turned, raising a brow at the look on Lando’s face. He probably looked insane. Max crossed his arms as he approached, not looking all too thrilled at seeing him. Which wasn’t a surprise. The entire grid wasn’t a fan of his behaviour in regards to women, Max especially given everything that had happened with Kelly and Daniil.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Max eyed him over for a moment before nodding, guiding him back to his room. He sat on the edge of the counter, not saying anything but looked at Lando expectantly.

Lando bit the side of his cheek, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I fucked up.”

Max let out a long breath through his nose, his eye brows rising. “You’re realising this now?”

Sighing, Lando considered how to move forward. “Look I know it was dumb but can you really blame—Fuck!” His eyes began to water and his hand went up to cover his now bleeding nose. Staring at his friend in bewilderment as his head began to pound with pain.

Max had just punched him.

“You are such a fucking dumbass, Lando.” Max was practically yelling at him, not caring that the sound hurt the Brit’s head.

“I just walked in on her and Oscar practically fucking! They’ve probably been doing it behind my back all this time, anyway—“

Max looked like he wanted to deck him again. “Get over yourself! How does that even begin to justify the countless women you were screwing around with behind her back all these months.” Lando went to open his mouth but Max held up his hand. “I have never in all my years even considered doing that to someone, let alone Kelly.”

Lando grew quiet, slumping against the wall, not caring that blood was dripping down his face and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes till stars appeared. “I know, I fucked up,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “I can’t justify it. And I can’t explain it, but I really feel like I’ve had a wake up call, mate.” He laughed ruefully, looking up at the ceiling. “She’s so perfect and I just— I fucked her over.”

Max considered his friend for a long moment. He hated him for what he did to you, but he still cared about him. “I’m not saying you can fix this, nor do I think there is anything to even fix. But you need to apologise to her. But I need you to understand this,” he stepped towards Lando, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t need to forgive you. I don’t even think she should. But she deserves a proper apology from you. Get down on your knees and cry for all I care.” With one last pointed look, Max walked over to his door and gestured an arm out. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

That night at the club the team had picked to celebrate Oscar’s win, Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you. He held his drink, still full and ice long ago melted as he watched you dance. The multicolour lights painting you in a beautiful image.

He waved off multiple girls who approached, not even an inkling of interest igniting in his chest. His heart for some reason set on torturing himself as he watching how Oscar held onto you possessively, never letting you go and with stars in his eyes.

He had known the whole time Oscar was in love with you, and it gave him a screwed up thrill to know you were with him instead. He didn’t know what was wrong with him sometimes, but he regretted everything. Not like it mattered. You looked properly happy for once and Lando realised you had never looked at him that way.

Another girl came up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder and smiling seductively.

All he could see was you, though. Looking at him one last time before kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Shrugging the girl off, he called it an early night and left.

Despite everything, how he treated you, Lando came to a crushing realisation and he felt his lungs stop working.

He was in love with you.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,436,097 others

landonorris smile. 🏆

*tap to load more comments*

userone: LESGOOO

usertwo: singapore looks good on you!

userthree: anyone find it odd how unhappy he’s looked lately? even when he wins

userfour: anyone see those leaked photos of oscar and lando’s ex?

| userfive: YESS they were making out in front of some pub in london

| usersix: WILLDDDD

youruser: congratulations lando 🥳

❤️ by author

landonorris: thank you, love ❤️

| userseven: i’m so lost 😭

[xo-codbby]

thinking about playboy!ghost x manhater!reader 🍒🖤

callsign: cherry. 18+

you loved your team but the truth remained the same, men simply sucked. too many times had you been burnt out, learning constant lessons over and over preferring to know someone properly before you introduced them to your bed. while ghost was just purely physical, just needing release. he didn't want to engage in deep conversation, he swore off of love years ago but there wasn't harm in chasing gratification for his physical needs even if he left a string of broken hearts behind him

ghost is cocky in the fact that he knows he looks good, he knows he has women at his disposable without saying a word. his bed warmed by frequent visitors, many wanting to come back but not getting the chance to. a soft scoff leaving your lips whenever you see a woman hanging onto his arm, practically lapping at his every word. the sight makes you recoil away but it only makes him want to aggravate you that much more

absolutely hating one another when you both first met.

according to him, you were too stuck up. your terrible attitude, your prudish behaviour, little miss know it all. he disliked it all and you had been the same, his arrogant cocky personality paired with his unbearable sarcasm. just another womaniser. you disliked him more than words could explain.

and yet the line between hate and love was a fine line indeed

getting teased around base relentlessly by him

"c'mere cherry, let me show you how to let off some steam-" "fuck right off"

ghost constantly offering you a quick lay whenever the team finished up a particularly stressful mission. gaz and soap chuckling at the snark you gave back, the only one to your defence was price offering a gentle hand and a stern look to ghost who rolled his eyes

but him getting so jealous when you get the attention of another man, when he sees you talking to someone else around the barracks it felt different. it felt intimate, too close for his liking. and with some forceful persuasion from price, he found out the new sergeant had taken a liking to you. and regrettably, you were starting to feel something for him too. he doesn't know why it pisses him off so much but he'll be damned if he doesn't wreak hell on the bastard

his absolute favourite way to piss you off is inviting a woman to his bed, making her scream and moan out his name as loud as he can,

"that's all y'can do f'me? louder doll, lemme hear just how good it feels"

as he's thrusting so deep into her cunt but it doesn't feel the same like it used to. he won't be able to cum until he's imagining your face, imagining the pretty sounds he'd coax from your lips.

how his cock would throb deep into your willing pussy, how he'd rub the tip of aching cock against your entrance relishing in the way you squeezed him so tightly. the very sight almost makes him groan out your name, even the thought of tasting your slick makes him shiver in anticipation.

and of course it's your room beside him, you're subjected to listening this woman's moans and how great he's making her feel. a warm feeling stirring deep between your legs but you refuse to engage in his stupidity cursing at him as you throw yet another book at the wall. the sounds only stir him on, competing with you who could make the loudest sounds.

it's only when price, again, yells out a sharp command from the depths of his room that it's silence once more

the next morning you're woken up by gaz and soap laughing and hooting at him, heading to the kitchen to see his dark brown eyes twinkle as he looks at you. he stands against the counter, a mug of tea in his hands. his balaclava pulled up over his nose while he eyes you up and down stalking your every move

"an' how'd you sleep, cherry?"

his voice is a hoarse rumble from having woken up, his cocky grin as he looks at you over. wondering if you had touched yourself to his sounds he let spill just for you, wondering whether you squeezed your legs tightly or grinded against the pillow for some relief

but your eyes roll and brows furrow, not wanting to entertain his bullshit. only offering a smartass comment as you look back at your phone. the very sight makes him want to pounce on you, to show you what you were missing

but say one day you get your heart broken and the feelings come head to head, piss drunk as you knock thrice on his door watching him open with a disgruntled look on his face

"bloody 'ell, y'gonna bash my door in-"

doesn't even get the words out before you've pulled him to your face and kissing him feverishly, the door slamming shut behind you both. but when you get to the bed, the alcohol and the heightened emotions lull you into a deep sleep as he sighs softly. looking around before setting you down and laying next to you. grumbling softly how you're lucky to be sleeping in his bed

he doesn't even have sex but he swears it's the most intimate he's ever been with someone

so playboy ghost, the man who would pay for ladies ubers so they wouldn't sleep in his personal space, the man who chose to fuck casually with no feeling, the man who swore off love altogether held you captive in his arms snuggling into you.

the very man who broke the vow he made not to ever get entangled with emotions had clung to you like you were his lifeline in a torrential sea and you had escaped his clutches like a thief in the night like he had done so many times to others. and perhaps if he wasn't so heartbroken he might've laughed at the irony of the situation, what comes around goes around

[jun3ee]

A couple more minutes? (T.K)

A/N: If I made a fic about 2010 Tom face-fucking the reader, would y’all read…?😖🥺 ANYWAYS this was rushed asf- it’s basically the (Sub! Bill) fic I made but with Tom, it’s super rushed sry. 😔 (NOT PROOFREAD) (Sub! Tom x Fem reader)

(MDNI)

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈੈ✩‧₊˚

“B-Bitte Liebe”

Tom lets out a whimper, his body flush against yours as you straddle him, getting him all worked up before the last concert as you rub your clothed cunt against his clothed, throbbing cock. His forehead being covered in beads of sweat, but not just from the concert.

The big bad guitarists' eyes glazed over as slight tears threatened to slip over his waterline. You keep grinding your body on him as people outside continue to yell out how much minutes he had left, but frankly, could you help stopping at this point after seeing him on stage? Watching his fingers work on the guitar so expertly as the veins in his forearms slightly bulged? The panting you could hear from him as he strummed his guitar to the songs? Watching the beads of sweat slowly drip down his head after each performance? Watching him thrust into that damn guitar, bucking his hips up on it as he searched for you like a lost puppy in that big crowd with those big, beautiful brown eyes that are looking into yours right now helplessly begging to cum..? Definitely not.

“Out in twenty, Tom!”

“S-Scheiße”

He mumbles. All this guitarist talking about was being such a tough guy in all those interviews. That whole demeanor being switched as you watched him whimper and whine under you, squirming and grabbing your hips as his solidified length twitched and yearned for more under those rough textured baggy jeans of his. His teary brown eyes looking into yours as you keep grinding on his clothed cock, gripping on his long dirty-blonde dreadlocks as you watch his words turn into pretty broken whimpers, your panties already being drenched from all the stage teasing, so why not get payback?  

“F-Fuck Liebe S-S’please” He whimpers

“You like that, hm? Fucking slut”

Poor Toms cock helplessly throbbing as he breathlessly looks up at you while pathetically trying to cover his whimpers, wanting nothing more than to just pull his pants down and watch you suck his pretty cock as he overflows your mouth with his cum, but he knew he didn't deserve it after all of that teasing. You watch him helplessly grip onto anything he can, his hands desperately wandering anywhere they can as he presses sloppy kisses and hickeys down your neck. A little wet stain of pre-cum on his boxers, you couldn’t help but get even more turned on by the fact that he was such a little needy mess under you, hiding the fact he loved being degraded like the little slut he was. It just got him even more harder and whiny,

“M-M’ please”

He mumbles, the poor boys voice trembling so cutely and pathetically, each barely coherent word turning into a desperate plea or breathy whimper into the crook of your neck as the poor boy attempts to pull his pants down, his fingers fumbling on the belt as you shove them away, his cock creating a prominent print on his baggy jeans as he lets out another needy whine,

“What did I tell you, hm? Ya’ think you deserve to fuck me?”

You coo into his ear, grinding slightly more aggressively on Tom’s clothed length, feeling how hard it was through the fabric directly between your legs, causing a delicious friction. His eyebrows furrowing as pure lust and need fill his eyes.

“N-No.. J-J’s lemme cum p-please.. I-I’ll do anything”

He mumbles into your neck, little tears streaming down his cheeks as his breath hitches in the back of his throat, you keep relentlessly grinding on the needy boys cock, watching his bottom lip quiver as you start to place kisses on his lips, lolling your tongue around that sexy lip piercing of his in such a lewd way that he loved, his tongue dancing with yours in a sinful way as he bucks his hips up, rubbing and thrusting erratically between your legs, the poor guitarist unable to express his throbbing arousal as he lets out more moans and whimpers along with cut-off gasps, anxious to cum in his boxers as he whines, his needy grip on your hips with his calloused hands getting tighter as his knuckles start turning white,

“Y’ wanna cum that badly, hm?”

“B-Bitte bring mich einfach zum Abspritzen”

“Tell me how badly you want it, Slut”

You mumble into the sensitive skin of his neck as he lets out a choked gasp, sloppily kissing you and bucking his hips up faster, rubbing them up between your legs, desperate to catch his release. At this rate, you knew the poor boy was already close.

“I-I’m c-cumming!”

He chokes out, helplessly letting his hot cum burst out his cock, soaking his boxers as it ruptures through the fabric causing him to roll his eyes back and let out whiny cries. A breathless look spreads on his face, just like the one he makes while playing that damn guitar, his body going completely limp under yours, fully spaced out as he tries catching his breath in pants.

“W-We still have time for more, d-don't we?” He whimpers…

[fruitjoos]

it’s fall, and love grows cold…

patrick zweig x reader

summary: it’s fall, so the leaves are turning part II

find part one here!

when he flips over to kiss up your stomach, then your arms, your chest, and finally your lips, you're a bit surprised but respond instinctively, kissing him back. your hands find their way to the sides of his face, holding him steady as the intensity builds. his fingers dig into your sideburns, anchoring himself to the moment as the heat rises between you.

“do you have a condom?” you ask, watching as he seems caught off guard. since when did you use condoms? he hesitates, glancing over at the bedroom as he starts to get up from the couch to go find one.“no, it’s okay,” you say, stopping him. “just forget it.”

you turn your focus back to him, gently pressing your lips against his. but as you pull away, he senses that the mood has shifted, the tension thickening between you. still, he goes along with it, trying to ignore the unease settling in his chest.

as things start to escalate, he noticed that he wasn’t getting hard. and so did you. licking his thumb, he stroked at the soft skin of his cock, his movements growing quicker, more frantic. he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. you watched as his panic crept in, his lashes fluttering with each blink. you offered to help, but he waved you off, insisting it was fine, telling you not to worry. he was going to get it up. he just needed to focus, he explained, his voice spiked with growing frustration.

patrick crashed his lips against yours again, desperate for relief, as if the act could somehow dull the ache in his chest. but it did nothing. the emptiness still lingered, gnawing at him from the inside. frustration welled up, sharp and suffocating. his breaths came in shallow gasps, not from passion but from rising panic. his eyes glistened, tears gathering faster than he could blink them away.

"are you okay?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed, your voice soft and hesitant. his response came louder than you expected, "yes, i just-" he stopped, trying to steady himself. "just give me a fucking second." his words, though calmer, still carried a jagged edge as he pumped himself faster.

you tilted your head, rolling your neck to release the tension creeping into your body, unsure of what to say or do. “fuck,” his tears came, faster, slipping down his face before he yanked his boxers back on and stormed off to the bathroom. the door clicked shut, muffling his soft sobs and broken sniffles.

“and so then he starts crying,” you say, tossing your head back as the memory plays in your mind. “what—,” tashi replies, her mug clinking against the counter as she settles into her seat. “that’s embarrassing.” you roll your eyes, feeling a surge of frustration and confusion welling up inside you. picking at your nails, you stare blankly into space, grappling with the turmoil inside. you’re torn between wanting to stay with patrick or deciding it’s time to walk away. part of you wonders if you’re not trying hard enough, while another part feels the love fading, slipping through your fingers like sand. you care for him deeply. there’s no doubt about that, but you can’t quite grasp how things got so tangled.

“crying?!” art yells from the bathroom, breaking through your thoughts. “you’re not supposed to be listening!” you shout back, hearing his muffled response but not catching the words. “and so then what happened? you just sat there in silence?” she laughs, but the sound feels too light for the tension lingering in the air.

you give him a few minutes to pull himself together, the silence stretching on uncomfortably. bracing yourself, you stand and shuffle your feet against the carpet, knocking softly on the bathroom door. “babe?” you call, letting the pet name roll off your tongue with a gentleness you hope will reach him. there’s no answer, just the quiet you anticipated. “we can still cuddle when you’re ready, okay?” you sigh, biting your lip as the familiar unease settles in.

you move to the kitchen, boiling water for his favorite tea. chamomile that he always said reminded him of the first time he met you. a comfort you wish you could offer him now. the steam rises, filling the air with a soothing aroma. you brew it in the special mug, the one you rarely let him use because it felt significant, and tonight it seems necessary, a gesture of care amid the chaos. you set the steaming mug on the nightstand, waiting for him to come in, hoping it might provide some warmth.

when he finally steps in, his eyes are red and puffy, the lids heavy as if they’ve borne too much. you slip beneath the covers, patting the empty space next to you, inviting him into the sanctuary of the bed. you hear him murmur a soft, “sorry,” the words barely escaping his lips. “we don’t have to talk about it,” you reassure him, caressing his temples, hoping the touch brings him some peace. his eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, you both breathe in the quiet, trying to find comfort in each other’s presence.

—

note: i also want to mention the fact that i want to write one last angsty part for this lawl sorry! i’m just a whore for angst 😏😏😏…

[songbirdseung]

let me know / nishimura riki

where you actually get to be in a relationship with your bias...but maybe you're taking it a little too far (bad yn) genre est. relationship, angst, arguments

riki sat on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the argument that had just taken place between him and yn. they’d been dating for only a few months, but tonight had been the first real argument they’d had. the words still echoed in his mind, swirling around in a mix of confusion and frustration. it wasn’t even about something huge—just a small misunderstanding—but it was the way yn had spoken to him, like he could do no wrong, like he was some perfect figure that was beyond making mistakes. and somehow, that bothered him more than the argument itself.

his thoughts drifted back to the day they’d met, that pivotal moment when everything had changed.

it was at a fanmeet. he’d seen countless fans before, smiled and greeted them all with the same enthusiasm and professionalism he was expected to. but then you came up to him. he remembered your shy smile, the way you nervously fumbled with the small gift you had brought for him. it wasn’t the first time a fan had been shy around him, but something about you was different.

“hi, riki,” you had said softly, your voice shaking a little.

he had smiled at you, trying to ease your nerves. “hey, how are you?”

your eyes had widened slightly, as if you couldn’t believe he was speaking to you directly. “i’m good, just… really nervous.”

he chuckled at that, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “don’t be nervous. i’m just a person, like you.”

you had blushed, clearly not believing him. “but you’re… you’re riki from enhypen.”

that was the moment something had clicked for him. the way you said it, like he wasn’t just a regular person, like he was this larger-than-life figure you could barely comprehend. it should’ve been flattering, and in a way, it was. but at the same time, it made him feel… distant. like there was this wall between him and the real world, between him and you.

but then, you two had talked. just a few more sentences, really, about how long you’d been a fan and how much the group meant to you. but that short conversation had left an impact on him, so much so that he’d done something he had never done before.

he’d pulled a staff member aside afterward, asking them to find a way to get your contact information, but to keep it discreet. something about you intrigued him, made him want to know more, beyond the surface-level interactions of idol and fan. and before he knew it, you were exchanging texts, getting to know each other on a more personal level.

back in the present, riki sighed, his hand running through his hair in frustration. the fanmeet had been the beginning of something special, but now… now he wasn’t so sure.

he thought about all the other moments you’d had together since then. the late-night phone calls where you’d gush about how amazing he was, how talented, how he was unlike anyone else. at first, it had felt good, hearing you talk about him like that. who wouldn’t like being praised? but over time, it started to feel… heavy. like you were seeing someone that wasn’t really him. like you were in love with “riki from enhypen,” not riki, the boy who still tripped over his own feet sometimes or made dumb jokes when he was nervous.

even during the argument, you hadn’t yelled or gotten angry like he had. instead, you’d looked at him with wide, hurt eyes, like you couldn’t believe he was capable of making a mistake, like he wasn’t allowed to get upset or frustrated because he was supposed to be perfect.

“riki, it’s okay,” you had said, your voice soft and placating, like you were trying to calm a storm. “you don’t have to apologize. i know you didn’t mean it.”

and that’s when it hit him. that’s what was bothering him so much. it wasn’t just that you were brushing off the argument—it was that you weren’t letting him be human. you weren’t letting him fall, make mistakes, or be flawed. and it was exhausting, feeling like he had to live up to some impossible standard that you’d built around him.

he thought back to other moments. the time he’d tripped while you were out on a casual walk, and instead of laughing it off with him, you’d acted like it hadn’t happened, quickly changing the subject as if it was beneath him to stumble. or the way you’d once scolded him for talking too freely with other girls during a fan event, but then immediately apologized, saying, “i just don’t want anyone to think they could take you away. you’re too special.”

and he was special to you—he knew that. but the way you saw him, the way you put him on this pedestal, it made him feel distant. it was like no matter how much time you spent together, there was always this invisible barrier between you. you were still looking up at him, and he didn’t want that. he didn’t want to be this untouchable figure. he just wanted to be riki.

riki, who could mess up, who could say the wrong thing, who could fall. and still be loved for it.

he stood up from his bed, pacing the room as his mind whirled. he knew he had to talk to you about it, but how could he even explain it? how could he tell you that he didn’t want to be the version of himself you saw? that he needed to be seen as more than just an idol in your eyes?

grabbing his phone, he scrolled through the recent messages between you two. there were sweet, affectionate texts, cute goodnight messages, and even the occasional playful banter. but reading them now, he could see it. the way you always praised him, always reassured him that he was perfect, that he could do no wrong. it was suffocating.

he typed out a quick message, his fingers shaking slightly as he hit send:

“can we talk? i need to tell you something.”

it wasn’t long before your reply came through, and just like that, riki’s heart was racing.

he knew this conversation was going to be difficult. he knew it might hurt you to hear that he wasn’t the version of himself you’d built up in your mind. but it had to be done. because if you couldn’t see him for who he truly was—the good, the bad, and everything in between—then this relationship would never work.

taking a deep breath, riki sat back down, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. he didn’t know how you would respond, but he hoped, deep down, that you would understand. that you would still love him, even after he fell off the pedestal.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!katsuki x reader

❥ read this first!

summary: katsuki had vowed to you to stop this, to make sure you two could live safely from now on. but when you get thrown into the fight again, is he able to save you?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, character death

(a/n: i went with the more interesting ending.. take that how you will)

wc: 4k

he wouldn't fail. it wasn't even an option. the sight of you bloodied on the floor ran through his mind, fueling the fire of his soul as he drove back

he had been forced back to HQ first, that idiot only working at irregular hours of the night.

it was three a.m. way past his bedtime, you'd know as he forced you to sleep alongside him at eight. sometimes the sun was even out when he'd go in for the ‘night.’

he breathed a sigh of half relief and half annoyance as he saw the annoyingly flashy red car in the parking lot of the ‘casino’. he walked in to be greeted by the group of them sitting at a poker table, deku at the head.

katsuki took a seat by the rear, eyes closed but ears open. they had started talking already, but minutes were millions with that idiot. so deku had to ask his questions quickly.

“we just wanted to ask if you'd sold any information on any of our former blood.” midoriya started, eyeing as hawks grew a smirk on his face, his expression one of mock thoughtfulness.

“well, i did. but on who and what will cost you extra, but you know that already.”

“we'll pay, just say it.”

hawks shrugged, examining his fingers as he suddenly spoke quickly and quietly. “let's just say a cloaked man bought the information out of me. wanted bakugo katsuki's addresses and affiliates, former jobs and things he'd been involved with. he offered a lot of money, so my hands were tied. you get it.” a smile broke out onto his face, “but a little birdie told me he trained under eraserhead, i'll give you that for free since i caused you some problems.”

“we already figured that out asshole.” katsuki grumbled. “thanks for your help hawks. ah.. he's just upset, and to be frank i am too.” midoriya said, his voice gaining unusual stoicism in the latter half of the sentence. “you caused issues for me, you know that right? and you can't even give me his identity… it's just an utter disgrace.”

hawks put his hands up in mock surrender, “hey, hey. i didn't say i didn't know who he was. but, fact is that it'd cause you a lot of money to buy his identity in full, you know i'd have to break my code for that.”

“you didn't mind when you sold out bakugo though, did you?” todoroki muttered, flipping a coin in his hand.

“heh, yeah.. i guess i do owe it to you all then. well it's settled,” hawks clapped his hands, “i'll just give you the gang they work under for free.” he slid an envelope over to midoriya. “thanks for the business, sorry for the trouble bakugo.” he rushed out as quickly as he came, the sound of the car speeding out the runway the only thing heard while midoriya tore through the envelope.

written in red ink, with a small smiley face on the very corner, was the name of the gang. “shiketsu?”

midoriya yelled shocked.

they had recently just called a ceasefire to the years of carnage spread between the gangs, the handshake all might did with shindo signified it.

“why would they attack bakugo? it just doesn't make sense.” iida pondered, “though, i guess he did rough a lot of them up back in the wars we had.”

“but there's no reason for them to hold it against them, we had an agreement. we all drank together and everything!” kirishima exclaimed, his hands gesturing around.

“we'll have to go over there ourselves.. likely someone has held something against kacchan for a while.” midoriya ordered. “get your things ready, i don't want any weapons noticeable. concealed and carried, burners too.”

“got it.” they all agreed in unison and got prepared. katsuki was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the notion, putting his favorite gun in his hilt. he always carried, even now, but it was different. this was different.

as he loaded into the car, fist bumping kirishima, he felt almost nervous. he hadn't done anything like this in a while, let alone go to a gang that clearly had something against him. against you.

the ride was quick, kirishima and kaminari blabbing on about how cool it was for him to be back, patting him on the back and smiling. assuring him that they'll find the guy who did this and punt him to the ground.

katsuki could only hope they were right.

they arrived outside the club, walking in immediately to the back. at the sight of deku they opened the doors, nodding at him slightly while letting the group in.

“kacchan, you come with me. everyone else,” he moved to face them, “stay here. on guard, and play nice.” katsuki followed behind him, moving to shindo’s head court. they had to go down an elevator, it was odd really. the last time he was here it was to beat the fuck out of him, and now it was to ask why the hell he picked a fight. with his wife.

it was now six in the damn morning, katsuki was as pissed as ever, midoriya telling him to cool down or he'd leave him behind.

he was a hypocrite though, as he walked in uninvited, a displeased air surrounding him. shindo, who usually invited him over randomly, always accommodating his presence as they were good friends, noticed this odd aura. “midoriya, what brings you here? seems you're not happy with me.”

midoriya took a breath and sighed. “i don't think you would betray me shindo, but facts are facts. one of my men– sorry former men,” he gestured over to katsuki, “had a loved one attacked.”

“that's horrible.” shindo commented, “you don't think i did that though.”

“not you specifically, but.. hawks himself said the one who did was associated with shiketsu.”

“hawks??” shindo almost jumped out of his seat. “well it wasn't me.. definitely not. couldn't have been any of my closest blood either, the only ones who it could've been..” he snapped his fingers like a realization dawned upon him.

“must've been this newbie seiji and his quadrant. he's a new guy, a sniper, he had a crazy good background. he worked fo–”

“eraserhead. right?” katsuki finally had spoken, stepping forward. “right. well, i caused you two a bit of problems huh? lll help you locate him. that's all though.” shindo stood up, handing them a tracking device.

“a tracker?” midoriya questioned, eyebrow raised. “all fresh blood are unknowingly tracked. it's just protocol here, you get it.” shindo shrugged sheepishly.

“right.. remind me to not get on your bad side.” deku joked, laughing about some nonsense joke. katsuki guessed he'd temporarily forgot about the situation, so he snatched the tracker out his hand. “hey!”

“this is…,” his heart dropped, hands sweaty and shaking slightly as he started to recognize. the street names, the buildings, his building.

“why is this fucker close to my house?!”

all of their eyes collectively shot up. you were home, did it already get out that you were alive?

heart pounding, katsuki went rogue. he blasted out of the room, ignoring midoriya’s calls behind him. shoving past his blood and the people in the club, only one thing on his mind: you.

kirishima chased after him as he'd ran into the parking lot of the club, hot wiring a sports car and speeding off.

he threw the burner over to kirishima. “call her, now.” kirishima barely caught the phone, the car drifting and slamming him to its sides so often he felt queasy. “chill out bro!” he dialed the number, but you weren't picking up. he had it on speaker, so the voicemail tone was heard.

“again.” katsuki ordered, his hands gripping the wheel. “call her again.”

“fuck– she's not answering man. we're almost there, she'll be fine.”

“you don't know that. that– that crazy bitch is there.” the tracker now found itself in kirishima’s other hand, the location reading inside his house. “youre not gonna want to hear this.”

“don't fucking tell me. we're here.” he barely pulled in to the driveway when he jumped out the car, braking it abruptly. “back me up.” was all he said as he continued moving forward, not looking back.

he walked up to the door, doing his best to stay quiet as he hopped your white fence and entered through the glass door. he saw you.. and.. surely enough a man he's never seen before.

you seemed off as he barged in, unmoving as he screamt, “[name]! move now!”.

at your silence and stillness, he walked closer to you. only to stop at the red dot aimed at your forehead.

“katsuki. don't move, please.” you were crying, tears streaming down your face as your hands shook. your knees looked like they were about to falter under your extreme fear, your eyes wide and horrified. “stay back.”

he stilled as well, noting the man who had just the rifle at point blank range. he smirked at katsuki, who had his fists balled in anger. kirishima hadn't revealed his presence, hidden behind the sliding door of your home.

“i don't like to leave my work unfinished, you know?” the man said, keeping his finger close to the trigger as he continued speaking. “i don't know how or why, but she managed to avoid my first shot. man my teacher would be pissed.”

“eraserhead?”

“yeah, eraser. he told me all about how you embarrassed my blood a couple years back. how you drove over half the members to the brink of death.”

“yeah, i did do that.” he felt weird talking about this in front of you, you never like it when he spoke about his job in front of you, and now was no different. other than the bullet in your direction. “there's a cease now. we're okay, the fucking shit is over.”

“who gives a fuck? not me. you– you expect me to believe they don't want you dead? that they don't hold some shit against you?”

“they don't. put down the gun– she's not even involved in this.” he slowly moved forward, his hand nearing his gun.

“stay back! or i'll shoot.” he hung his finger right over the trigger, “i'll blow her brains out. back the fuck up.”

katsuki stilled, “don't do this. why her? why not me if you're problem is with me?”

the man scoffed, purple hair covering his eye as he sneered. “because i know that wouldn't hurt you as much as this. as much as killing her in front of you. you're life must've always been disposable, all of us are. normal people don't join gangs.” he laughed, continuing on and on about something as katsuki tried to grab his gun without him noticing.

“who– who fucking tipped you off huh?” katsuki grumbled, attempting to take his attention off his wandering hands.

“well, it started with shinsou. i stole a couple of his bullets, real easy. that dumbass is trusting as long as you're associated with his teacher.” the guy laughed, “hawks though? i offered him a crazy number, asking for your addresses and shit. he gave in easily.”

he eyed the hand towards katsuki’s waist. “drop your gun, do you think i'm fucking stupid?”

katsuki tsked, “you sure do look it,” pulling out the silver ghost and putting it on the floor. it fell by his feet. “kick it away, ill ignore that remark since im feeling gracious.” he did so, making it ricochet off your foot.

filled with a newfound sense of confidence, the man chuckled, going closer to you. he brought his body closer, gun still pointed at you. he was rambling now, his words weren't anything katsuki was focused on. he was looking at his moments, waiting. waiting for a moment to strike, a moment of weakness, something.

and he saw it. his gun faltered, the weight of the large sniper not meant to be freely held in the air finally affecting him, as he had to switch hands to keep supporting it. he was quick to try and fix its position.

but katsuki was quicker, headbutting his stomach. a shot rang out, thankfully the gun had been pointed towards the ceiling, only hitting a random area in the roof. the two on the floor were fighting, fists full of rage as they pushed each other.

the sound of smashed bones and hits so strong katsuki knew they'd bring bruises to his knuckles the next day rang throughout the room, they were both in blinded rage.

after they had been knocked away from eachother, they eyed the gun next to them, chests heaving and body parts broken. they lurched towards the gun, the purple haired man closer to it.

he was going to grab it first, katsuki internally panicked, but the sight that came after only made him worry more.

the sight of you grabbing the gun out of his reach.

you had picked up the gun. you who could barely stomach stomping bugs or killing wasps. you who hated watching horror movies because doing that to people seemed so cruel. you, who had cried when he taught you how to shoot a gun, hoping that this situation would only pop up in his worst nightmares.

you who shakily held up the gun towards the man’s head, making him scoff. “put down the gun, princess. you won't do it.”

your chest was heaving, your knees felt like they were about to give out. your heart was racing, your fingers fumbling over the trigger. “b-back away.”

katsuki didn't know what to say, neither did kirishima who'd burst in from behind you. if he told you to put down the gun, you'd both be in danger. he could take it from you and kill all of you. fuck, why did this have to happen?

“put down the gun, little girl. you're not cut out for this life, so just hand it over. maybe you'll see your husband in purgatory, sure as hell not going to the same place though.” his hand was nearing the gun, his head was so close to the barrel. your hands shook, your eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. katsuki recalled that look from ever shot he'd made you shoot at a range, the face you made when you finally grew enough courage.

“[name]!”

the man's eyes widened as you shot him, point blank rage. his blood splattered over your hello kitty pajamas, but you'd never forget the look on his face when you opened your eyes. the white of his eyes staring at you, the hole that pierced his head and ruined the white of your carpet, the hand that had tried to cover his wound in the millisecond that he had left of his life.

people, people you didn't recognize barged in to the front of your house. they didn't look horrified at the corpse at the floor, they looked more scared of you.

you'll never forget how they all treated you. approaching you like you were a nut case, coaxing you to throw the gun away from you like you didn't want to run away from this whole situation. baby-talking you like you were insane.

you'd never regretted marrying katsuki, but standing here. bloodied and a murderer. that was the first straw for you.

but like always, he'd save you from the mess. when the gun dropped to the floor, on top of the body with a sickening clank! he grabbed you, carrying you up to your shared room.

in your solitude you sobbed, wailing into his chest like you'd done just a day prior. the sun had just risen, illuminating your tears as you shook on your shared bed.

he held you close, reading your mind. “you're not a monster, or a murderer.”

“how can you say that though? i just killed him!” your eyes widened, heart beating like crazy. “it was self defense, he would've killed us all. you did good [name].” he held your face in his hands, letting you see him with his bruised and cut up face.

“you saved me. you saved yourself. you saved anyone that would've been targeted by that freak.”

you finally calmed down enough to go shower. the blood washing off your body didn't help to calm down the storm brewing in your head, the anxiety overcoming you, but he did. he always did.

as he helped rinse the blood of your face, your arms and where it'd been caught in your stomach, replacing it with suds of rosy soap that he'd bought because it ‘smelled’ like you, the voices in your head came to a slow stop.

he was the only one who understood, the only one who had gotten his hands bloodied the same way as you, even worse. as he held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, holding your body close to his as if you were to disappear, you felt normal again.

all traces of the body were gone the next morning, the dent in the ceiling the only remnants of the situation. as katsuki cooked breakfast for the two of you, you couldn't believe how regular it all felt.

how nothing seemed changed, how when kirishima and kaminari came over to cheer you up and check on the two of you they didn't seem phased. how you all sat around your dining room table as normal, katsuki drinking his black coffee while holding your hand under the table, all of you joking around as regular.

how when you went back to your bakery everything was fixed already, a little green sticky note standing out from the display case that was empty because of your absence.

‘sorry for the inconveniences mr and mrs. bakugo, take this as our apologies.’

-midoriya, shindo

there were two small doodles of them on the corner, making you laugh as you gawked at the renovation done to your lovely little shop.

you showed it to katsuki who only scoffed, a small smirk on his face as he looked over the fresh paint, tiles, and replaced tables. “damn nerds.”

you didn't feel so up to baking today, which katsuki understood perfectly. you left the store hand in hand, noticing how the glass of the entrance had been fixed too.

you'd walked to the ramen shop you'd had your first date at, taking the booth in the corner like always. katsuki held your hand, clinging to you more than usual.

he barely let you out of his sight, even offering to feed you, which made you laugh and smack his chopsticks away.

“hey, 'suki.” you asked, poking his side. “it's over right? you're coming home?”

he nodded, swallowing his food before answering. “asshole’s off the streets, that's all i wanted for you, and for us babe.”

“ew don't kiss me when you just ate!”

“do you not love me woman?! we almost fucking died!”

what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, that's what katsuki thought as he reasoned his white lie.

he pondered how he'd make it up to you. technically he didn't do anything wrong in your eyes but he'd still feel internally guilty. he'd take you out to all your favorites, get you a new purse, do all the chores for a week. that sounded good to him as he made his way back to HQ, his hands in his pockets as midoriya eyed him with a knowing look.

you shouldn't and wouldn't want to know about his true final day right? how he'd ordered kirishima and kaminari do round up the rest of the quadrant. how he'd told them to leave them all for him in the basements of the HQ.

how he truly earned back his reputation of being explosive, leaving the three assholes who'd dared to conspire with a guy like that mangled and unrecognizable. if not for the names written in sharpie on their arms he wouldn't have remembered which one was which either.

he dropped the hammer from his hand, looking down at his work with a sense of satisfaction. he changed out of his clothes into the clean ones he came in with, throwing the bloodied ones into an incinerator.

he let iida and shoto handle the bodies, they were always good at leaving them left without a trace. fast too.

he thought about you the entire walk home. he felt giddy at the thought of seeing you again, excited to just exist in your presence. he stretched his body, working up the courage to see you as he opened the door.

“babe, you're home! where have you been?” you crashed into his chest, tightening your hold around him as you hugged him.

“out, finishing up loose ends y’know.”

as you looked up at him, trust and love in your eyes he knew.

he knew that he'd go back, leave, and kill all in a vicious cycle if it all meant coming back to you at the end.

because you were his everything, so he'd do anything for you.

tags: @miguellover6969 @lotusstarr @dragonscribble @theplacetoputfics @hannahk

[sh4wty18]

Could you maybe do one with Jake where the reader has a really bad migraine and he takes care of them. Please

migraine.

pairing: jake webber x reader

summary: same as request.

cw: fluff, detailed descriptions of migraines (?)

word count: 640 + edited

---

The migraine started this morning when you’d woken up, and only continued getting worse throughout the day. When you went out for coffee and shopping with your friend, you’d expected the caffeine to help dull the still slowly increasing pain on the right side of your head. You took an excedrin, but that didn’t help either–it never did. 

So when you got home from your day out–cut short by the immeasurable pain creeping from the back of your right eye, all the way to the base of your skull–you were quite overstimulated. Everything made your head pound more, the lights in your bedroom when you walked in, Jake’s loud laughing and yelling to his stream viewers from his desk, Johnnie blaring his music from across the hall. By this point, you were nauseous with pain, and gripping your head as you closed your shared bedroom door and sunk to the floor, in too much pain to greet Jake or his stream when you walked in. 

He turned around in his chair with a smile, and shouted, “Hi baby!” before noticing your position on the floor, and the way you sat with your head in your hands, holding back tears. His smile quickly fell from his face and he turned back around, “Sorry guys, I have to go. Y/n needs me. See you next time!” He turned his phone off and immediately got up to dim the lights in your bedroom before walking out the door and across the hall, presumably to Johnnie’s room. A few seconds later, you heard Johnnie’s music stop too, and before you knew it, Jake was by your side, knelt next to you. 

“Another migraine?” he asks softly, his voice just reaching a whisper. 

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought through the amount of pain you were in. Jake rubs your back gently before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you over to your bed and laying you down. He unties and pulls off your shoes, and helps you remove your clothes from the day and slip on some pajamas, all while you keep your eyes closed. 

He kisses your forehead as you lay down. “Covers or no covers?” he asks. 

“Under the covers, please.” you say, and he tucks you in.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water, and a cold cloth for your eyes. Does that sound good?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you whisper, nodding.

“M’kay,” Jake says, leaning down to kiss your lips before making his way to the kitchen.

When he gets back he closes the door so quietly you hardly realize he’s there. He walks over to you and helps you sit up to take a few sips of water before laying you back down and placing the cold compress over your eyes. Then, he walks over to the window and draws the blackout curtains shut tight, so as to not let in a single ray of light. 

You feel his fingers brush over yours before taking your hand in his and interlocking your fingers. His thumb rubs against the back of your palm in the comforting way he always does when you have your migraines. “You want me in bed with you? We can take a nap together,” he offers, and you can hear the sweet smile in his voice. 

“Sure, baby,” you whisper. 

Jake climbs in next to you and wraps his arm around your stomach, careful not to be too constraining and leave you room to move around. He didn’t want you overheating, since it often made your migraines worse. 

He kisses your lips one last time. “I’m always gonna be here for you, okay? And if you need anything, you just let me know. I love you, princess.” 

“I love you more,” you say weakly.

“Not possible,” he grins. “Goodnight.” <3

---

sweet lil jake fic for u <333

divider from @plutism

[suzdin]

Two for One: Part Five

Neighbor!Dave York x Human!Max Phillips x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, ANGST!, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, family death, invasions of privacy, breaking and entering, mentions of murder/violence, oral (f receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Max, threesome, anal, vaginal, breath play, alcohol and nicotine consumption, double penetration, anal creampie, dirty talk, I think that’s it

Words: 6,375 (sorry it’s short)

Notes: holy shit I don’t even know what to say other than I’m very grateful and touched by how many of you have reached out to me, and that I’m so so so sorry it took me this long to add a new chapter. Hopefully it’s worth the wait. I’m hoping to be more regular in the future! I did my best to remember who to tag, yell at me in the comments if I forgot you 🥴

—

You aren’t sure why, but with Dave gone, it feels wrong to see Max. At least, outside of your workplace...

Were it the other way around, you don’t think you would experience the same level of cloying guilt you feel with Dave, but then again, your relationship with Dave was far different than what you had with Max: while you kept Dave at arm’s length, with Max, you kept him even further than that, a begrudging admission of your lack of self control, something that you hate to admit runs in your family. You with your alcoholism and overactive sex drive; Garrett with his addiction to narcotics. Your mother’s former addictions to the same things as you and your brother, at one point or another, waxing and waning for decades as long as you can feasibly remember.

You can’t help but smirk to yourself as you imagine scientists studying your family like captive apes, which isn’t too far off. They would probably learn a thing or two about addiction. Not that your mother believes in science enough to volunteer for such things.

So, that is how things go for those few days that Dave is out of town. Max respects your need for space, surprisingly so, affording you little more than a few minutes in the bathroom each day you’re both in the coffee shop at the same time, ending in either a belly full of Max’s cum, his fingers buried deep in your pussy until you see stars, or both.

And he still insists on ending every interaction with those strangely intimate and delicate embraces, each encounter getting longer and softer with each passing day. Almost like Max wants to be close to you, but isn’t sure how else to go about it, only knowing that it’s something he needs—no, craves.

You won’t lie, you had started looking forward to those hugs too, needing them more than you’d realized. He never kisses you, though, no matter how long he holds you in his arms afterwards, something that leaves an oddly empty pit twisting inside of you that you can’t find yourself able to shake.

Your coworkers definitely know about your little bathroom receptions, thankfully looking the other way when Max comes strolling in like Don Juan in his pursuit of you. Even, much to your surprise, Audrey, whom you often found shooting dirty looks your way when she thinks you’re unawares, but has sense enough to keep her mouth shut. At least in front of you.

You played it cool around your boss, Maurizio, who seemed to be none the wiser, Max often chatting him up as a distraction when you had to straighten your clothes or smooth down your hair or make sure you didn’t have any remnants of jizz lingering on you. Sweet talking was definitely one of Max’s strong suits and Maury ate that shit right up.

Your nights after your shifts ended with you and Dave on the phone, talking — or doing other things — for hours on end, and you had to admit that his voice in your ear at the end of a long day was a welcome gift and distraction.

You asked about each other’s days; you lamenting about the stressors of your job, even divulging the part about the shipment of mocha syrup being two weeks late and how you’re down to only two bottles, and that you’re pretty sure Audrey and Vincent hate you, but leave out any bits about Max being the reason.

He tells you all about the day to day activities with his girls, everything from the inevitable meltdowns, to what they did and where they went, even letting you talk to his eldest — Molly — for a few moments when she insisted on knowing who her dad was talking to if it wasn’t Mommy, and although it felt awkward and forced it was still very sweet and amiable, leading you to wonder if this was all leading to something bigger between you and Dave… although you’d known each other only a very short time, it was suddenly feeling very real.

Did you want that?

You didn’t know, and not knowing scared you. That’s why, you realized, you hadn’t completely pushed Max away, in case things went awry. And they often did in your case, leaving behind a flaming trail of gnarled and smoldering wreckage in its wake.

And maybe you were starting to like Max, too. Just a little. As much as you tried to deny it.

At the very least, you could admit you looked forward to his daily visits more and more as the days slogged on, which was saying a lot.

As the upcoming week drew ever nearer, Dave’s communication dwindled and subsequently ran dry, which had you a bit worried. He had texted you about some vague work thing he had to do. You didn’t ask what it was, since it was none of your business.

Yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from worrying when the messages slowed and eventually stopped. Had you done or said something offputting?

You do your best not to linger in your own head for too long, keeping yourself busy with mundanities.

——

Dave was careful not to stay in touch with you unless absolutely necessary while he was actively on target. Whatever he could do to prevent you from being tied to the crime, even if only via digital footprint. Not to mention to keep himself from being tied to it, in whatever way possible.

He had left the crime scene with the intent to drive through the night without stopping until he reached Boston. His mind had not diverted from the original plan; however, with his dick painfully engorged and straining against his pants every step of the way, your face at the forefront of his mind, he found himself having to stop more than once to relieve the ache. You made him feel crazy. Crazier than he’s ever felt before. And he simultaneously loved and hated it.

With your videos playing on a loop, seat reclined back as far as it could go, he spills across his stomach again and again as he grunts your name through clenched teeth, hot spend collecting in the hollow of his navel.

Sunrise is approaching and he still has a couple of hours to go before he reaches you. He can’t wait to be with you. He can’t…

——

As you force yourself to drag ass into another long, miserable shift at work, barely conscious, your hair a rat’s nest, Dave is having to force himself not to be lead-footed all the way home. Being pulled over by a cop is the last thing he needs right now.

He texts you around 7AM, asking if you’re working and how you’re doing, although he already knows you’re not home, from the camera loop he periodically checks. He has to ask, though, to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You feel a wave of relief when you see Dave’s name pop up on your phone. But with a storm bearing down hard on the city (what your mother affectionately and irritatingly refers to as ‘tornado weather’), business unexpectedly picks up and you’re too slammed with soaked and pissy customers to respond in a timely manner.

You’re even too busy for Max when he comes in, passing him an apologetic glance right before your hands slip and you splash blistering hot coffee down the front of your shirt. Behind the dejected, puppy dog eyes he’s giving you, you almost think you see concern flash in those dark brown irises of his.

Not like that’s possible. Right?

—

It takes Dave longer than anticipated to make it back to Boston. Between the instances he had to pull off to relieve the strain in his pants, and subsequently take a power nap, he hits the city a little past 9, and by the time he makes it through the infuriating drag of traffic and rain, he pulls into his spot close to 10.

He draws in a deep breath as he stares up at your apartment window, dark now, pulling himself out of the driver’s seat, barely having enough energy to make it through the downpour and up the stairs to his apartment.

But as soon as he deposits his bag on the living room floor, he’s inexplicably hit with a second wind, adrenaline coursing through his veins when it occurs to him how close he is to you once again.

He hastily stuffs his lock picking kit down his pants, grabbing a rain slicker from the closet, despite already being drenched to the skin.

He knows you aren’t home. He’s confirmed and re-confirmed it. But needs to be in your space. Just long enough to smell you again, be with you without being with you until you can officially be in his arms again. He wants to lie on your bed, wrapped in your scent like a cloak as he dribbles down his fist, surprising you later by picking you up from work so you don’t have to walk home in the rain.

Which reminds him — he texts you again, asking when you get off, hoping that you’re just busy and not ignoring him.

He makes it inside your apartment in record time, the old wood of the interior crackling from the pressure disturbance, almost as if beckoning him inside.

He locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes, glancing around the small, dark space, which smells of stale cigarettes and… you.

He only needs a couple of hours. That’s all. Just long enough to hold him over until he can see you, smell you for real, touch you. Fuck you until your eyes roll back into your skull and you see stars.

He strips off his dripping clothes and drapes them over the back of your kitchen chairs to dry, at least somewhat, crawling into your bed and pulling the comforter up past his shoulders.

He presses his face to mattress, inhaling deeply, immediately growing hard from your lingering scent. Your coconut shampoo, your vanilla body spray. You.

As he slips his cock free from his boxers, he can almost feel your curves against his fingertips, the softness of your lips against his.

He begins to pump himself slowly, knowing he risked it all for you. Just so that sad fuck you call an ex can’t harass you anymore, his cock tightening further as he recalls the way Jonathan looked when the life drained from behind his eyes.

He did it for you, and he would do it a million times more if he could.

—

Your work day finally begins to slow after the lunch rush, the rain slacking off to a more tolerable, humid drizzle.

You let the others know that you’re retiring to the alley for a much needed cigarette break, and to not bother you for fifteen minutes unless it’s a life and death emergency. And even then, still don’t.

You already have a cigarette perched between your lips and a lighter clutched in your fist before you even hit the alleyway, thankful for the small awning even with the calmer precipitation.

You ignite the cig, pocketing your lighter as you take a seat on the milk crate you use as a stool, drawing in a long, much needed puff of smoke and toxins into your lungs. Fuck, it’s been a day.

You fish your phone out of your pocket so you can shoot Max a quick apology for not being able to see him earlier, immediately becoming distracted by the sheer volume of text messages you’ve missed since the start of your shift, Max momentarily forgotten.

Two of the messages are from Dave, which you’re relieved to see and respond to right away. One is from an employee letting you know they’re going to be half an hour late to their shift, which you ignore for the time being, not wanting to deal with it just yet. And the other eight are from your mom.

You sigh, taking another drag from your cigarette as you begrudgingly click on her name, anticipating the usual slew of bitching and moaning, reminding you what a terrible, awful daughter you are for abandoning your family; or, on the other end of the spectrum, kissing your ass and pleading for money.

As soon as your eyes scan over the messages, your world is swiftly rocked off its axis, your fingers losing their strength as your hands begin to tremor.

Your phone and cigarette crash to the ground, the former cracking as it hits the concrete, the latter snuffing itself out in the little bit of rain that’s left.

You wedge the heel of your palms against your eyelids and begin to weep, but you can still see the words behind your eyes, already haunting you, wishing you could scratch them out of your brain, wishing you could turn back time like it never happened.

Your grandmother, the only bit of glue that ever held you to your family, is gone.

—

Sarah comes in on her day off to cover the rest of your shift so you can leave early, thanking her profusely with promises to make it up to her as soon as you can.

You let Maury know you’re going to take a few days for bereavement, and he doesn’t give you any shit about it.

You walk home in a milky daze, finding your way by muscle memory alone, because you’re pretty sure you aren’t actually perceiving anything but a whirlwind of grief; grief so intense you can feel it in your bones, your bone marrow.

Your grandma—Granny Ruth—was the kindest, most selfless woman you’d ever had the privilege of knowing. You never could figure out how your mother turned out the way she did; how they were not only different, but polar fucking opposites.

You keep reading and re-reading your mother’s texts. How, in addition to your sorrow and angst, you’re also unfathomably angry.

Mom: your grandmother Ruth passed this morning

Mom: shame you weren’t here to say goodbye since you abandoned us

Mom: don’t bother coming home, she is being cremated no service

You need a stiff drink. Several, in fact. You need drugs. Every single one.

You need to get fucked until you’re completely desiccated. You need to strangle every last shred of emotion from your body because it’s too much to carry right now.

You wish you had a kill switch for your brain.

—

By the time you’ve reached the stoop that leads up to your building, you can’t keep it in any longer.

You managed to hold the fraying threads of your sanity together when you had to call Sarah in. And when you had to let Maury know. Even on the walk home, you were a zombie. Mindless. Numb.

But now, as you draw nearer to your home—or what you call home, but doesn’t really feel that way— your legs grow weak and your head swims, forcing you to collapse on the steps that lead up to the double doors, hunched forward, sobbing into your hands.

You aren’t sure how long you stay there, or if anyone sees you, and you really don’t care.

You stay until your head is throbbing, only snapping out of your daze when a familiar voice cuts through the sorrow, hushed, concerned, your name a murmur on their lips.

“Doll… are you okay?”

When you finally lift your head, your gaze settles on Max.

—

You tell Max about your grandmother. How she had been sick for years, how you should have never left her, the guilt and regret gnawing at you. You had been selfish, stupid.

He sits beside you on the steps, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, letting you cry, letting you lament about how much you hate your mother, only speaking when he needs to.

He’s being sweet, sympathetic, patient, and completely unlike his usual self. And you’re intuitive enough to know he isn’t bullshitting or just trying to get into your pants. He’s actually being sincere.

It’s so unlike him it almost unsettles you.

You aren’t complaining, though. It’s nice in how unexpected, how off-kilter it seems, and it does make you feel better, at least for a few fleeting moments.

As the conversation carries on and your mood lifts a peg or two, Max’s gentle, sympathetic touches gradually turn more reverent, more wanton, his movements slow and unsure at first to test the waters, wanting to ensure that you want it as much as he does.

When you reciprocate, your eyes re-affirming your needs to him, he grows more insistent, more brazen, cupping your breasts through your polo, coffee stains and all, canine teeth scraping along your pulse point.

He’s being more tender and sensual than you’re used to, and while you don’t mind it, you prefer Max’s usual persona and would much rather be railed so hard you forget your own name.

He pulls away long enough for you to punch in your password on the keypad, flinging the twin doors open and making a beeline for the elevator with Max trailing at your heels like an infatuated puppy.

His touches become more persistent and demanding the closer you get to your apartment, his true colors finally bleeding through. By the time you’re fumbling your keys to unlock the door, he’s practically dry humping you, hands on your hips, half hard already.

After a brief and minor struggle with your lock, your hands tremoring again, you eventually shoulder the door open, stumbling inside with Max immediately following suit.

The cool dark of your space welcomes you as you shut the door harder than intended, Max’s hands returning to your hips.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifts, and there’s movement from your bed.

—

You scream, your hands losing their strength for the second time today, keys and purse crashing to the floor as Max positions himself between you and the intruder.

Without thinking, you instinctively reach for the switch next to your head, the resulting flood of luminescence rendering everyone temporarily blind.

When your vision eventually returns, and you see who’s standing before you, you’re almost unable to fathom what the fuck is even going on.

“Dave? How the f- what are you… what the fuck?” you manage to prattle out, in spite of your inability to otherwise form a cohesive thought.

Dave could kick himself for being so careless, so sloppy. He was more clear cut than that. He should have known better.

His eyes flick to Max, his face neutral as he assesses the situation before speaking, taking a tentative step in your direction.

He’s in nothing but black boxers, one side of his hair flattened, his eyes weary and heavy with lingering traces of sleep.

He says your name, studying your face. He can tell you’ve been crying, and he wants to break whoever did this to you, rip them apart at the seams until there’s nothing left to identify a body.

He isn’t dense and can see that Max isn’t the source of your distress, clearing his throat subtly, whispering your name again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low, his need to touch you, kiss you, bordering on physical pain. But he doesn’t want to startle or upset you, your eyes as large as dinner plates.

As Dave creeps another step forward, Max shoulders up to him, practically bristling like a dog over a prized bone.

“Maybe you should answer her question, Dave.”

“Max—“ you warn, Max pivoting to meet your gaze, taking a single step back only because of you.

Dave passes him a glance, and for a brief, but satisfying moment, he imagines himself decking Max square in the jaw. He knows he could take the pretentious prick down in a single blow, he’s certain of it. But as much as he wants to do just that, he refrains.

He’s aware that acting on his instincts would disrupt your already fragile state. And as much as he hates to admit it, he understands why Max is acting the way he is. He would behave the same, were the roles reversed.

He draws in a deep breath before responding.

“I wanted to see you. You weren’t home… your door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I wanted to surprise you. But I must have drifted off...”

He pauses, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, giving you a moment to absorb everything.

“I’m sorry. I was exhausted, not thinking straight. I… I fucked up.”

You can’t help but notice Max is uncharacteristically quiet as Dave explains himself, hands on his hips, ready to jump in at any moment if needed. But like Dave, he doesn’t want to do anything to upset you.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, if I can. I-“ He takes another step, his hand reaching for your arm. “I missed you.”

You see a muscle in Max’s jaw jump when Dave touches you, and as much as you want to shove him away, scream at him, tell him to fuck right off for breaking into your apartment… locked or not… you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’ve been angry enough for one day and you’re too mentally drained to care right now.

More tears fall in lieu of your anger, and you almost can’t believe you still have any left to cry.

Dave closes the distance, Max immediately flinching, itching to pick a fight but holding back. Dave doesn’t seem to notice or care, his focus honed solely on you, cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging over your cheekbone, catching any stray tears.

They’re behaving surprisingly well, given the circumstances, you have to give them that.

And although Max knew about you and Dave, you’re shocked to realize Dave knows about you and Max. But it’s too much information to dwell on right now, your head a foggy mess, so you don’t.

“My grandma died,” you croak.

—

The first hour is awkward, uncomfortable, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Dave and Max are getting along but only just barely, both of them vying for your attention to the point of additional stress, wanting to do whatever they can to make you feel better.

None of it feels real. Everything feels dark and hazy, a fever dream.

You’re sandwiched between both men on your tiny couch, watching something on Discovery none of you give two shits about, passing a bottle of vodka around to add to your mixer of choice as you sit in otherwise oppressive, stifling silence.

Their hands are all over you, competing for your affections, probably wishing you would kick the other one out, and you consider more than once to kick both out to let you wallow in your sorrow in peace.

But the drunker you get, the less you care. The drunker they get, the less they care about the other touching you, as long as they do get to touch you in some way or another.

As their touches grow bolder, you sense something unspoken pass between them, their caresses gradually transitioning to fondling, their hands moving over your curves, groping your breasts, teasing your folds through your thin leggings.

Of course there are a few moments where they bristle and bicker, quarreling over who gets to touch you where, but for the most part, they cooperate, working your body in tandem.

Your head falls back, your neck folded over the back of the couch as Dave’s fingers slip under the band of your leggings, his lips finding your neck.

“So wet already,” he murmurs against your pebbled flesh, his fingers feather light touches against your skin, teasing. “You like the way we’re touching you, baby?”

Max’s lips are on the opposite side of your neck, nibbling and kissing from your jaw to your clavicle, his hand sliding under your shirt, pushing your bra aside to pluck at your puckered nipple.

You can only moan in response, so fucking horny you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“I think she does,” Max replies with a crooked smirk, locking eyes with Dave as he slips your polo over your head, his head dipping to suckle at your exposed breast.

Dave pushes two fingers past your entrance, languidly pumping them as he anchors his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to twitch and sputter.

“So fucking pretty for us,” Dave purrs against your neck, pushing your leggings down to your knees, “Dirty fucking slut, letting two men touch you. What else would you let us do to you?”

“Anything you want,” you respond almost immediately, not having to giving it another thought.

Max’s head lifts from your chest, gently pushing you forward so he can remove your bra.

“That’s a dangerous proposition, doll. You think you can handle both of us at the same time?” Max counters, a devilish glint making his dark eyes shine as he palms himself over his pants.

You nod, unable to respond in any coherent language due to whatever magic Dave is currently performing between your thighs.

Dave tells you to lift your legs, tugging your bottoms the rest of the way down.

He had pulled his pants back on after you and Max arrived, but he shucks them off again, the outline of his dick visibly straining through the fabric.

Max had already stripped down to his undershirt and pants, wiggling out of his shirt while Dave removes his pants.

Dave spreads your thighs apart, drinking in the vision of your sopping wet pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking at his bottom lip like a hungry reptile.

He turns to Max, his eyes glistening, his brow furrowed.

“Make her cum. Get her ready,” Dave commands, Max not bothering to argue with being told what to do so authoritatively, because he wants it just as badly as you do.

“Ride his face,” he tells you, gesturing for you and Max to move over to the bed.

“Use him to get yourself off.”

Max moves into position, wriggling out of his pants in the process, leaving both men in their boxers and you completely nude.

Your walls clench around nothing as you mount Max’s face, planting your knees on either side of his head, your palms against the wall.

Max places a few delicate kisses to your inner thighs before abruptly pulling you all the way down, his tongue curling into your wet heat.

Dave growls, his eyes darkening with lust as he steps out of his boxers, large hand wrapping around the base of his thick cock, steadily stroking himself to the vision of Max eating you out with abandon.

Dave bends to kiss your velvety lips, his tongue demanding access and you let him.

“You remember your safe word, don’t you?” Dave asks as he breaks the kiss, his fingers entwined in your hair.

You nod, your lower lip dangling. “Foxglove for you, lavender for Max,” you reply.

“Good girl,” Dave praises, giving your right ass cheek a solid smack. “Now ride his face. Use him.”

You hear Max grunt something against your folds but you aren’t sure what, leaning back, your spine flexing as you brace yourself on Max’s muscular arms.

Dave watches, transfixed, his hand never leaving his cock as he tilts your head back to kiss and bite at your throat, your jaw.

“Is he doing a good job, sweetheart?” Dave asks and your head bobs eagerly in response.

“Yes he is,” you say as your hips roll forward, thrusting against Max’s tongue, his arched nose bumping your clit with every stroke.

“Max, spread her cheeks for me,” Dave says firmly and Max immediately obliges, his cock twitching in his shorts when he understands where this is going.

With his hands gripping your ass, he helps you to guide your movements, moaning against your folds.

Dave perches on the edge of the bed behind you, collecting some of your excess slick to coat his fingers, assisting Max in spreading you even wider as he teases and prods at your puckered star of muscle.

“Let me in, sweetheart, or it’s going to hurt later,” Dave commands softly, circling your entrance with his index finger. “Lean forward a little bit,” he tells you, placing his palm between your shoulders as he guides you into position.

You brace against the wall again, relaxing as much as you can, the new angle helping.

Dave manages to slip one finger inside, pistoning into your tight tunnel, making you whimper and quiver against Max.

He spits directly onto your anus to apply more lubrication, adding a second finger to the first.

“Keep riding his face just like that. Use both of us, pump yourself onto my fingers as you use his mouth,” Dave says, his voice low, his other hand reaching around to circle your throat.

“There you go,” he says as his fingers probe deeper, scissoring them apart to help stretch you further.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whimper, your movements becoming more determined, more frantic.

Max is a trooper, his fingers still digging into your ass, his grip bruising, his tongue still flicking and curling into your tunnel, not even stopping to take a breath.

“That’s it, sweetheart, such a good girl for us,” Dave murmurs, his voice low and velvet.

He attempts to insert a third finger, adding more spittle and slick, only getting it past the first knuckle, but it does seem to help in spreading you open.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum… I’m so close…” you whine as your bounce more fervently on Max’s face, making him grunt words of affirmation under you, muffled against your soft mound.

Dave’s hold on your neck tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin, his lips brushing your ear.

“Let go for us, sweetheart. Let it all out.”

Max continues to guide your movements, Dave helping now as well, bouncing you up and down, using your neck as a handle.

With a loud cry, you cum hard and fast, stars behind your eyes as both men work you through your orgasm, Dave’s hand releasing your throat to return to his cock, Max groaning into your pussy until the waves of pleasure subside.

Dave pulls his fingers free, stilling his ministrations on his own body as he gently cups your cheek.

“Still okay?” he asks, and you nod with a smile as you climb off of Max who, understandably, needs a moment to take a breath.

Max finally extricates himself from his boxers, heavy cock springing free, pumping himself slowly as his visage roves hungrily over you and Dave.

“Get on his cock and lean forward,” Dave demands in a low growl, and you shimmy down Max’s body, straddling him, Max slotting himself at your entrance and lifting his hips to meet you in the middle.

You slowly sink down to his lap, Max releasing a hiss of pleasure, placing his hands on either side of your hips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel amazing,” Max pants, already bucking his hips in anticipation.

Dave positions himself behind you, on his knees, his hands also moving to your hips, fingers brushing Max’s.

They lock eyes with each other, his brow a hard, dark line as he regards the other man.

“You are not allowed to cum in her. Understand?” he tells Max, his voice low and authoritative, his lips tight.

Max frowns, his brow wrinkling in disapproval, but he doesn’t protest, not wanting to let the opportunity to be inside you slip through his fingers.

Dave edges closer, adding more spit and slick to your anus, inserting two fingers again to ensure you’re ready.

“Just relax, baby, and use your safe words if you need them,” Dave tells you gently, placing the head of his cock against your tight ring of muscle.

“Just breathe,” he says, and begins slowly pushing himself into you.

As Dave gradually gains ground, you’ve never felt so full in your entire life, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, even when Dave claimed your ass the first night.

There is some pain initially, but the alcohol helps to alleviate some of the discomfort, as well as slacken your muscles enough for Dave to bottom out.

His head falls back with a loud groan as his hips press firmly against your ass, stilling himself for a beat to relish the sensation of your body strangling his cock.

After a moment, both men exchange another look and they begin to move slowly in conjunction with one another, their movements choppy and stilted at first as they learn the other’s movements, able to find a mutual rhythm after a few minutes that seems to work for you.

“Oh fuck,” you keen, burying your face against Max’s shoulder while both men slide in and out of you in tandem, and you think you’ve never felt anything more glorious in your entire life.

Max wraps his arms around your back, holding you against him, whispering encouragement in your ear.

“Look at you,” Max praises, one hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. “Taking both of us so well. You like having two men inside of you, don’t you?”

You nod and whimper against his neck, your hot breath fanning his skin, on the verge of tears with how heavenly it feels, how much joy and pleasure they’re gifting to you.

Dave gives your right ass cheek another sharp smack, making you yelp in surprise at the abrupt lance of pain.

“Say it. Say out loud how much you love it,” Dave grits through his teeth, his ministrations growing more intense.

“I love having two men inside of me, fucking me, using me,” you mewl between breaths, relinquishing a loud moan when their hips snap against you simultaneously, almost as if they planned it.

Little by little, their movements increase in speed and power, seamlessly with the other, a series of curses and inhuman noises bellowing out of your ribcage.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you cry out when you feel yourself getting close for a second time, your muscles already tightening. “I’m gonna fucking… cum… again…” you groan against Max’s neck.

Dave lands another slap to your ass, their thrusts growing rougher, your bed rocking against the wall.

“Cum for us, baby. Cum all over Max’s cock while I’m railing your tight little ass,” Dave snarls, panting hard as he chases his own end as well.

You reach your second peak only moments later, your vision going pure white as you’re hurtled far over the edge, experiencing the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, gushing unapologetically all over Max’s lap and your bed.

They keep pistoning against you, riding you through the waves of your orgasm, the sounds of their grunts and growls filling the small space.

Dave can tell by the look on Max’s face that he’s close as well, his breath ragged in his chest as he warns Max a second time not to finish inside of you.

Max’s cheeks inflate, his skin a deep shade of pink, sweat prickling his brow as he does everything he can to hold back.

“Final warning,” Dave grits, reaching around you to grip Max by the throat, squeezing hard enough to get his point across.

With a deep grunt, Max pulls out of you at the last possible second, locking eyes with Dave, hand still wrapping his throat, exploding like a goddamn geyser all over your ass and Dave’s stomach.

That spurs Dave to reach his own end, stilling inside of you, hips twitching and jerking involuntarily as he unloads everything he has to give, your flexing and pulsing anus milking every last drop.

He collapses on top of you, both men breathing haggardly, your skin slicked with perspiration.

You stay like that for a while, none of you wanting to move for a long time.

Dave pushes his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, his cheek resting against Max’s chest.

He eventually pulls out, rolling onto his back as you settle between them, lying in comfortable silence for what seems like an eternity.

Max pushes himself up, going over to the bathroom to grab some warm, damp rags, tossing one to you and Dave, using the third on himself.

Dave scoots to the edge of the bed, studying Max in silence as Max gathers his clothes.

You move next to Dave, also watching Max get dressed, quirking a brow in confusion and concern.

“You aren’t staying?”

—

You walk Max down, the elevator ride silent and stifling, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets, having never been more quiet in his life.

You follow him to the street, staying with him until he reaches the corner.

“I have work tomorrow,” he says, a flimsy excuse at best.

You cross your arms, searching his face. “Are you okay?” you question, finding yourself genuinely worried.

“Yeah,” Max replies stiffly, confused and overwhelmed by everything that just occurred, his mind replaying the moment Dave grabbed his throat, resulting in him exploding all over both of you like a nervous teen on prom night.

“I just want to be sure…” he begins, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “Did you want that?”

You meet his eyes with your own, not used to seeing Max this vulnerable, this unsure. You don’t like it.

“Yes. I did…” you say honestly, exhaling a slow breath.

“Did you?” you ask softly.

“Yeah. I did. I wanted it, and I enjoyed it, but… I don’t know,” he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just tired.”

You search his face again, searching for the unspoken answers, but not wanting to scare him away by prying too much.

You step into him, wrapping your arms around him in a snug embrace, and he buries his face in your hair, his arms linking behind your back.

He pulls away after a beat, his hands moving to either side of your face.

“I’ll text you soon. Okay? I’m sorry again, by the way. About your grandmother.”

You inhale deeply, nodding in acknowledgment, trying not to cry again. Sensing your pain, feeling a different kind of pain twisting in his chest, Max does something he normally wouldn’t.

He pulls you closer, his lips connecting with yours in a soft, worshipping kiss, long fingers sinking into your hair, committing the way you taste to memory.

—

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @kellybelly1978 @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @yorksgirl @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @daddy-dins-girl @natdeandar @sarap-77 @guelyury @vabeachazn @gwendibleywrites @anoverwhelmingdin @oberynslady @untamedheart81 @casa-boiardi

[livi-in-digital-circus]

“The Amazing Digital Family” || a short story for Bunnydoll writing week!

I had so much fun writing these two stories, thank you @beanandberry and @canterbury-bell for hosting this awesome event <3

Jax was more than happy not to take part in the day’s adventure, as it meant he could finally spend some time alone with Ragatha, who was nearing the end of her second pregnancy. Though she had been feeling much worse lately, her smile hadn’t left her tired face most of the time.

Their two older children, Owyn and Ethan, were under the care of their friends somewhere in another realm, where they had been sent for adventure. Caine assured the couple beforehand that what he had prepared was one hundred percent safe for two lively five-year-olds and that nothing would harm them. At first, Jax refused to believe it, even daring to threaten the ringmaster that he would knock every tooth out of his jaw head if anything happened to either of them. Eventually, Ragatha managed to calm Jax down with her presence alone. Due to her weakened state, he became even more overprotective of her, constantly asking if she needed anything or was in pain. Even though it wasn’t the first time they were expecting a baby, the rabbit was even more dedicated. Quite a surprising but positive change in someone like him.

Right now they were both lying on the bed in their shared room. Ragatha was fast asleep, her head resting on Jax’s bare chest. He knew that his scent and warmth were the only things that could make her feel safe and comfortable, even in the worst moments of her pregnancy.

Ragatha would often throw up right after waking up, something that shouldn’t happen after so many months. They all knew that the Digital Circus had its own laws and worked much differently than the real world, but this didn’t even happen during Ragatha’s first pregnancy with the twins. Not to mention that she suddenly felt depressed and stayed in bed most of the time. Caine promised to find out the cause before the baby was born, but to Jax, it looked like he was more interested in creating more bizarre adventures, since he hadn’t found anything yet.

The rag doll shifted uncomfortably and opened her non-button eye, revealing a dark circle under it.

“Is the adventure over…? Where are Owyn and Ethan…?” She asked, her voice trailing off, due to lack of proper sleep.

“Rags, it’s only been about twenty minutes since the adventure started. You should go back to sleep, I’ll let you know when they return.” Jax’s fingers ran gently through Ragatha’s yarn hair, trying to calm her down. He knew how much she worried about her children every time they weren’t around.

“I feel a little nauseous, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep right now…” She groaned, her plush hand going straight to her swollen belly, where her third rag bunny was currently parasitizing, as Caine liked to call it. Jax got up from the bed almost immediately, not even bothering to fix the straps on his overalls, and without much effort, he slid his hands under Ragatha’s body and lifted her off the bed.

It was enough to fully wake the rag doll as she started to yell in protest.

“Jax! Put me down!”

“Why should I? You’re as light as a feather, Dollface.” To confirm his words, Jax raised her higher, surprisingly without a trace of sweat on his purple fur.

“Jax, please don’t lie to me." Ragatha stopped yelling and her voice suddenly cracked. That made the rabbit put his beloved back on the bed. The moment he saw a tear forming in her eye, he quickly realized what he had done wrong and bit his tongue. The same thing had happened years ago, and he should already be aware of it.

Normally, Ragatha cared more about others than herself, including appearance. However, the pregnancy changed her in many ways, one of which was her attitude towards her own looks. She became more insecure about her midsection and would burst into tears every time someone made a comment about it, whether positive or negative. Jax, being Jax, often makes not-so-hurtful jokes about it, often forgetting how it affected Ragatha.

This time was no different.

“Sorry about that, Dollface.” Jax sighed. “You know I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“To say that a pregnant woman is light as a feather is not the nicest thing.” Ragatha sobbed, hugging her favorite horse-shaped pillow.

“Rags, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“One ice cream box, three chocolate bars, a cup of tea, and a foot massage.”

“Noted.” Jax was about to leave the room in search of the aforementioned sweets and drink when Ragatha suddenly grabbed his hand. Despite being a rag doll in a much weaker state than usual, her grip was surprisingly strong.

“No, don’t go. I want you to lie with me, rub my belly, and let me cry on your shoulder.” She pouted. “And I want my food.”

Another sigh left Jax’s mouth. He had already managed to forget how hard it was to deal with a pregnant Ragatha, and even though she was more than close to giving birth, he still couldn't keep up with her cravings. With nothing to lose, Jax opened a nightstand and luckily found an emergency chocolate bar that was kept there in case Ragatha suddenly got hungry and Jax wasn’t around. Though the current situation was different, it was the perfect time to use it.

He handed her the candy, to which she responded with a sparkle in her non-button eye and quickly started munching on it. She seemed more lively than usual that day, which was a good thing compared to her often screaming in pain from the unidentified glitch.

Jax lay back on the bed as well, his hands gently stroking Ragatha’s belly and his face pressed against her warm neck.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re feeling better for once. I wish we could stay like this forever, just you and me, away from these annoying losers and stupid adventures.”

“Don’t forget our boys and the little one whose nap you’re disturbing now.” Ragatha let out a soft laugh as she felt the subtle movements of their unborn baby, probably in response to its father’s touch.

“Nah, I’m sure the little one understands perfectly that it’s just their daddy showing how much he loves their mommy.” He left a tickling kiss on the rag doll’s neck, causing her to gasp and shiver at his touch. She knew what was coming, but before she could give in to the pleasure, the door opened with a loud bang and two little rag dolls jumped onto the bed, nearly crushing their parents.

“Mama, we missed you!” They both said in unison, clinging to Ragatha like leeches. Meanwhile, Jax groaned as his sons kicked him in the chest, trying to make more room for themselves right next to their mother.

“Aw, I missed you too, my sweethearts. How was the adventure?”

“More like ‘Why aren’t you on the adventure’?” Jax asked annoyed, trying to be as gentle as possible as he pushed the boys away from him.

“Uncle Caine let us leave the adventure early so we could see Mama!” Ethan exclaimed, his little head rubbing against Ragatha’s back.

“We haven’t seen you and the baby for a few days, we were VERY worried!” Owyn hugged his mother’s belly, his bunny ear listening for any sounds his younger sibling might make.

Because of Ragatha’s condition, the lively twins weren’t allowed to see her most of the time so that she could get more rest. However, each time they visited her, the rag doll’s day would instantly brighten. Tears immediately streamed down her cheeks.

“My poor babies… Mama is feeling much better now that you two are here.”

“Hey, what about me? I’m a poor baby too!” Jax said dramatically, crossing his hands over his chest. He was too ashamed to admit it, but sometimes he could get jealous of his own sons.

“Papa is not a baby! He’s an old man!” The younger of the twins turned to his father and stuck out his tongue. The rabbit felt his blood boil. Ethan was definitely too much like him.

Ragatha could feel the tension in the air and knew Jax was about to say something wrong, so she reached out and gently rubbed one of her husband's ears, which was definitely his weakest spot. He instantly melted into her touch.

The rest of the day they spent in bed, Owyn and Ethan talking about the pranks they had pulled on their auntie Pomni during the adventure. Jax had his arms wrapped protectively around Ragatha's belly while she continued to rub his ear affectionately. The family of four, and soon five, somehow managed to find happiness in this crazy digital world, and sometimes Jax and Ragatha even wished they could stay there forever, just for the sake of their children.

Thanks for reading!

[merwgue]

Starting a fic, related to these headcanons I made yesterday💞 (btw thus whole thing was inspired by @achaotichuman we were talking and we came up with this concept. Tysm!!! Make sure to follow him!!)

The Fight

Nesta sat on the balcony of the House of Wind, the vast expanse of Velaris twinkling below her. The cool breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, providing a small, fleeting sense of comfort. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the tension that had been brewing between her and Cassian for weeks now. He had been more on edge lately—more controlling, more possessive. It was like everything she did was a test, like she had to prove something to him, though she didn’t know what.

She had been thinking about cutting her hair for weeks. She wanted a change, something drastic that would shake her out of the rut she had found herself in. It wasn’t about anyone else—it was for her. So when she mentioned it casually, she hadn’t expected it to be the match that ignited the fire.

Cassian’s footsteps were heavy as he stormed out onto the balcony, his jaw clenched, his wings tucked tightly against his back. He had always had a looming presence, but now, there was something in his eyes, in the way he moved, that made Nesta’s stomach churn with unease.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, his voice hard, without any of the teasing warmth that had drawn her to him in the first place. His eyes were locked on her hair, long and flowing in the wind.

Nesta frowned, her fingers trailing through her dark locks. “What’s the big deal? It’s just hair, Cassian.”

“It’s not just hair, Nesta,” he snapped, his tone sharper than she had ever heard. “Why would you even think of cutting it? You—" He swallowed hard, his gaze darkening. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m not thinking straight?” Nesta’s voice rose, incredulity mixing with anger. “How is cutting my hair me not thinking straight? Do I need your permission now?”

Cassian’s face twisted, his hands flexing at his sides. He was trying to stay calm, she could tell, but the effort only made the tension worse. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, that’s exactly what you’re saying,” she shot back, standing up now, facing him with the full force of her glare. “Every time I try to make a decision about my life, you have to insert yourself into it. Like I need your approval.”

“This isn’t about approval!” Cassian growled, his wings flaring out slightly behind him. “It’s about—”

“About what?” Nesta interrupted, stepping closer, her eyes blazing with fury. “About you needing to control every little thing I do? You act like cutting my hair is some kind of attack on you. Why is that, Cassian?”

His eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, Nesta thought he might actually yell. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his voice low and hard. “Because it’s not about the hair, Nesta. It’s about what you’re trying to do.”

“What I’m trying to do?” she repeated, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief. “You don’t know what I’m trying to do because you don’t even listen. You never listen.”

“I listen to you all the time!” Cassian shouted, his temper finally snapping. “I’ve been there for you, always there for you, and you keep pushing me away. You’re always running, always trying to destroy everything—”

“I’m not destroying anything!” Nesta screamed back, her face flushed with rage. “I’m trying to take control of my own life, and you can’t stand it. You want me to be some perfect little soldier who follows your lead. Well, guess what, Cassian? I’m not.”

“Stop twisting this!” Cassian roared, stepping even closer, his chest nearly brushing against hers. “You always twist everything to make me the villain. I’ve done nothing but try to help you, try to be there for you, and you treat me like—”

“Like what?” Nesta spat, her voice dripping with venom. “Like the brute you are?”

Cassian recoiled as if she had slapped him, his face going pale with shock. For a moment, there was silence, the tension between them so thick it felt suffocating. Nesta’s chest heaved with anger, her pulse racing in her ears, but she didn’t back down.

When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. “You think I’m a brute?”

Nesta didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The look on her face said it all.

Cassian’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his wings trembling with barely-contained rage. “Fine. If that’s what you think of me, then maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a brute. But at least I’m not the one trying to tear everything apart just to prove a point.”

“What point?” Nesta snapped. “That I can make my own decisions? That I don’t need you hovering over me, telling me what I can and can’t do?”

Cassian laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “This isn’t about your hair, Nesta. It’s about you wanting to run away again. You can’t handle being here, so you think cutting your hair and pushing me away is going to fix that?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t want to run away if you didn’t make me feel like I’m suffocating!” she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. “You don’t get to tell me how to live my life!”

Cassian’s eyes burned with fury, his voice cold and sharp. “And you don’t get to treat me like I’m the enemy. I’m trying to help you, but you just—” He broke off, his hands shaking with the effort to hold back whatever else he wanted to say. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Nesta’s throat tightened, her anger boiling over into something deeper, something more painful. “Then don’t. No one asked you to.”

Cassian’s face twisted in hurt and anger, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breathing, as if he were barely holding himself together.

Nesta couldn’t take it anymore. She felt like she was drowning, like every moment with him was dragging her further and further under the weight of his expectations, his possessiveness. Without another word, she turned and stormed past him, her heart pounding as she headed for the door.

“I’m cutting my hair,” she said, her voice cold and final. “And I’m doing it because I want to. Not because of you.”

Cassian didn’t stop her. He just stood there, silent and brooding, as she left the balcony and slammed the door behind her.

She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Not anymore.

[thinkblotted]

Vestal Omega

@lexirosewrites

It's a little early, but hey 1 am is STILL TECHNICALLY SUNDAY LOL

So, okay, this post is going to be a raw jam that happened in discord dms, which is why the formatting is a little choppy, but here is @berd-alert and I's contribution to this Slick Sunday! Hope you enjoy :3

Berd Alert I was thinking Eddie lived in the temple he can still be that bitch but he's in service to the Omegan God (And like, is them but shh

Thinker he's who you have to go through to talk to a few of the omegas there

Berd Alert So its probably a city, not a pack. But Steve's parents could send him to the temples to try and find a mate? Participate in the yearly running?

he doesn't want to but he's got limited options. Its either mate and settle down or be disowned

Thinker He knows he doesn't have the skills to manage on his own, so he will settle for someone from the temple and give them the best life he can in exchange for keeping his family pleased

And maybe just get the answers he wants

It would be hilarious if Eddie was like 'yeah no, you're not leaving just yet' 'why??' 'because you belong here'

Berd Alert Eddie, dragging Steve bodily into the sacred grounds of the temple "HEY MA WE'RE KEEPIN THIS ONE"

Steve gets kidnapped lmao

Thinker The most confused man in the city, eating dinner like '....I just wanted a wife'

Berd Alert congrats Steve, you are become wife

of a god no less :>

its a bit of a vestal virgin scenario, the people of the temple are spiritually and legally mated to the god

omegas to the Omegan Gad, Alphas to the Alphan God

Steve needs to purify himself and then he can properly be welcomed into the order

Thinker For those that come in, it usually means renouncing all past or present mateships, by cutting out the bitten gland

Luckily, Steve has none

His mane is cut, and he is perhaps, ah, bound, down there (diy cockring)

Berd Alert not even diy they just use a leather cord

Steve is pretty deeply embarrassed by that. And also the fact that he's apparently been CHOSEN BY THE GODS to become an Omega

He hears the priestesses talking that this happens once every few years, and that it also happens in reverse at the Alphas temples

An Alpha gives his seed and an Omega gives her womb, and they come back changed.

Thinker Steve knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this. That the moment they explained, he felt lighter. But. The process seems intense, and he's not sure if he can pass through the eye of a god and come back.

What if he's found..wanting?

His parents certainly weren't very impressed by him, what would the god of all mothers think?

Berd Alert actually imagine his dad trying to take him from the temple

Steve isn't allowed to see anyone during the purification process other than the priests assigned to help him, so when he hears a commotion at the temple gates he's pretty worried

Thinker Eddie tells him it's alright, and to stay. Keep calm, keep his focus. Nothing will come in here they don't allow in.

Richard is pretty loud, though

(here is where the real jam starts hehe)

Berd Alert Yelling about how these crazy whores stole his son, that they plan to mutilate him so he can never be a proper alpha. Steve cringes at that, and Eddie's jaw clenches.

"Chrissy, stay with him."

"Wait, where are you-"

"I'm going to teach your father some manners."

-

Richard sees the omega as he walks to the front of the assembled crowd. Small, slight, with wild black hair that scandalously not hidden by an omega's veil. He wears the red of a priest, a black stone blade on his belt. And when he meets Richards gaze, his dark eyes seem to cut right through him.

"Are you the one making all the noise at our gate?"

Thinker Richard blinks at the unexpected shot of...uncertainty that the dark gaze sends through him. Then, shaking himself, he huffs, baring his teeth. People around him admonish him with hissed voices, but he pays them no mind - if the crazy bitch wanted to act this way, this was the kind of treatment he should expect.

"Where is my son? I sent him here almost a month ago-"

"To find a wife, yes," the priest interrupts. "He's told us all about it. We made good use of the waste it would have turned him into."

Berd Alert "A waste- How dare you insult me like this! My son is a strong, capable man! He needs to come home with a mate to-"

The dark haired priest cuts him off with a vicious little smile. "I think you misunderstand. Your son is very strong, yes, but he is not an alpha. And he will not be returning to your house. He's been chosen, and has agreed to the right of transference. Once it is complete, he will live here, as a priest to the God of all mothers. It is Their will."

Thinker Those around him are quiet as he speaks, listening to his small sermon. Some even nod along. Richard growls, having heard enough of this. He's going to go through those door and drag that pathetic, cowardly whelp back through so he can-

Richard takes a single step towards the priest, and suddenly, the tip of the black knife is pressing into his throat.

The priest is no longer smiling.

"Do you know why my robe is red, Pater Harrington?" He murmurs. Richard doesn't answer. "For the blood of the pups unborn, dead in their mother's womb, and for the blood between the teeth of the mothers who defend them."

Berd Alert Those dark eyes glint like the blade at his throat, which drifts lower, towards his chest.

"It's also the red of the mothers who suffer in silence at the hands of cruel alphas."

Richard swallows. feeling a cold sweat break out across his back.

"The God of All Mothers tells me things, Richard Harrington. I hear Them in my dreams. So, why don't you answer something I've been wondering."

No, no no no it can't be- The little priest comes in close, so his soft lips press against the shell of his ear. "When was it, exactly, that you started to beat your wife?"

Thinker Richard's breathing is staggering. This boy - this man - is so much younger than him, so much smaller than his own broad shoulders and long, alpha teeth, but he looks wild in the way a wolf looks next to a dog.

"You know nothing of these matters! You're a mad man," Richard cries, ripping himself away, back towards the doors leading out of the public portion of the temple.

The priest smiles again. "The mad are forced to see what the sane blind themselves to."

There are people at the door already.

Berd Alert (two world building thoughts, one, the Omega God is usually depicted as a female while the alpha God is usually depicted as a male, but it is understood that their blessings are not distinguished by sex, and there are special holidays honoring their forms as Omega masculinum and Alpha femina. Two, the Rite of Transference is kinda literal? It's a petition to the gods to essentially swap the designation of a man and woman. It has to be a man and woman, though the opposite where the man is omega first and the woman is Alpha first is also possible. They're meant to literally exchange their birth designation for the others, giving theirs as a gift and receiving In kind. Also, This does not matter at all, but the omega Steve is swapping with is Nancy)

Thinker (I enjoy these both. I imagine that Steve and Nancy meet and sort of formally offer their transitions to each other)

Berd Alert Richard tries to push past the people at the door but they push him back. Another alpha growls at him, posturing so he'll back up. He's trapped.

"You know, The God of all Mothers despises those who harm the vulnerable. But the Chasing God hates them more."

The priest is stepping closer, knife brandished. "You are supposed to be a protector, the caretaker of your mate and pups. But it seems you do not deserve that responsibility."

"So? You can't kill me," Richard pants hysterically. "Even a priest isn't allowed to murder."

The boy smiles again, his little sharp teeth glinting in the light. "I'm not going to kill you, Pater Harrington. Although, perhaps you'll wish I had once I am finished."

He looks up to address the crowd. "I need two volunteers. The strongest among you."

Thinker Richard then tries to make a real break for it. He knows this - he's seen this. Spat at them in public as was right.

Ad Aufero. Those who had their scent removed, cast out from the family, alone.

He's not fast enough. Maybe in his youth he might have been, but certainly not now, past his prime and wanting in true physical prowess. Two alphas come forward, a boy with sandy blond hair and one with long, dark hair tied in a braid. They grapple, and Richard is soon scruffed like a pup. At the doors, the crowd of underclergy have moved the public out, apologizing for the scene, but they must leave for the moment.

The doors shut with a boom, and Richard is brought to his knees at the feet of the red clothed priest.

Berd Alert "I would apologize for the scene, but I think you won't care about that soon."

He approaches, knife ready and hungry for blood. Richard thrashes, then cries out.

"Wait-! Wait, you need proof to do that!"

The priest pauses, then his smile returns, as keen edged as his blade. "No I don't. Do you know why?"

The flat of his knife is at Richard's neck, over his mating bite.

"I am field born. The God of all Mothers is my mother, the seed-bearer my father. I am their will made flesh. And they tell me how you hurt those around you. They tell me exactly what you deserve."

The knife bites into his flesh.

Thinker It's an expert hand that moves the blade - almost like it was something moving through the priest. The black stone is as sharp as any steel, but Richard is made to feel every drag.

With a flick, his skin is peeled back, revealing the little bauble embedded between muscle. Blood runs in red rivulets down his shoulder, over the hands holding him and the hand unmaking him. The point of the knife digs under it, and Richard screams.

The priest rises, and holds the bloody piece in his hand, high so all gathered may witness. "A final offering will be given to the God of All Mothers, in penitence for this one's harm."

He then addresses Richard directly. "May Their final blessing be cold understanding given to a mind now free to accept it."

The gathered crowd of clergy murmurs an echoing prayer. The priest steps away, to the pit at the center of the room - it is deep, and at the center, a meter down, glowing coals.

He tosses the flesh into it, where it burns.

Berd Alert It's over with quickly after that, though Eddie is spattered with the man's blood once he's finished. He feels exhausted, but satisfied with his work, as he usually does when the Mothers spirit takes him.

He needs to wash off the blood before he goes back to Steve.

As he steps into the antechamber of the temples sacred ground, he sees a bowl of water. Set out for him, no doubt. He picks up a cloth, and begins to wash his arms and face. The water tints pink in the bowl, like a profane ink.

There are footsteps behind him, familiar in their gait.

"You really shouldn't leave seclusion, Steve."

Thinker The feet behind him shuffle, somewhat guiltily.

"I know. But, everything went quiet, and then I-" Steve pauses, but finds the courage to continue. "I heard him screaming," he whispers.

Eddie sets the soaked cloth down. He really has to change, he mustn't touch Steve like this, coated in the taint that may come off on Steve, but he can't leave him like this. Eddie turns, so he can hold out an arm for Steve to come to.

He does, setting his head on Eddie's shoulder, letting his nose find the spot under his jaw. He cannot purr yet, the deep rumble of an alpha still his only way of showing his gratitude, but Eddie accept it for what it's meant to be.

"He won't trouble you any more."

"...My mother-" Steve starts, but Eddie just nods.

"I'll send someone to look after her for a while."

"Thank you," Steve murmurs into Eddie's shoulder.

END OF JAM, HERE IS SOME CUTE ART BY BERD

Steve's mother Maureen (on the right) and Richard's alpha sister Janet on the left, who in every omegaverse au we write, Maureen ends up divorcing Richard and getting with Janet lmaoooo

Priest Eddie, doing his clerical duties, very Delphi of you, Eddie

There's a bit more to the jam, where we are worldbuilding some of the temple stuff, if you're curious about that. I just though the post was getting a little long lol

[little-forest-goblin]

First impressions Pt.2

Regency!Five Hargreeves x reader

Synopsis: In the regency era every woman wanted to marry a man that was wealthy and had good status. there was little time to get to know one another. But you Y/N L/N are the most reluctant to these whole marriage to random men you don’t fully know.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

God you were so nervous.

The doors of the manor were huge. You and your family stepped up to the doors and once opened you saw the party in its full glory. People dancing, some flirting, some drinking, some already drunk off their minds. It was a sight to behold. Trisha and Maggie gasped with wide smiles and looked to each other and quickly went inside. Mother and father where smiling and reminiscing about the days of there time when they were young and found each other. Colin had already hurried off having already found a beautiful girl he could dance with. This left you by yourself. You nervously entered and looked around the ball. God this was nerve wracking and honestly dizzying seeing people dance around and laugh and chatter away. You took a deep breath in then out and began to walk around. The hargreeves manor was quite beautiful and large but almost to much. Like they had so much money they didnt know where to put it or what to invest in. When you ended up around a table with glasses of wine you picked one up and sipped it. A good year. How suiting for such an event and a wealthy man. Your drink was cut short by your sister trisha hurrying to you “Come Y/N! Reginald and his son’s and daughters is coming!” trisha took your glass setting it down you laughed as she dragged you along excitedly “I was drinking that trisha!” of course it fell on deaf ears as they went to the front as the guests parted a pathway for Reginald. You stood next to trisha and maggie as reginald and his family started to make their way down the lane. There were 7 of them. 6 sons and 1 daughter all above 18 meaning suitable bachelors and bachelorette. Reginald stood at the front and his voice sounded “Thank you all for coming here today. I am honored to be graced with your presence’s. Now im not one for idle chit chat so i will introduce you to my children.” Reginald gestured to all of them but one caught your eye immensely. He held his arms behind his back his hair combed and cut precisely and an air of stoicism and sophistication. Five Hargreeves was his name. He looked honestly a bit miserable like he would rather be anywhere but here. You chuckled softly and whispered to Maggie and Trisha “Is it just me or does that one look awfully miserable?” Trisha looked to you and back to Five “him? five? I think he looks quite handsome.” you chuckled and looked to her “Yes but he seems to be quite a buzzkill, no?” trisha smacked you arm lightly with her closed hand fan. you chuckled and rubbed the spot and looked back to the front a second to late cause now the party was back normal dancing and drinking. Before you even got a minute break your mother took your arm along with maggie and trisha’s “Mother! what on earth are you doing?” trisha whisper yelled Your mother smiled “We are going to meet them!” you suddenly felt nauseous. Once you where in front of them Your father came up to reginald “Mr Hargreeves splendid party.” he shook his hand and reginald gave a tight lipped smiled “Yes i am just glad i could have everyone in unity.” your father chuckled “You know my wife and these are our three daughters Trisha, maggie and Y/N” you and your sisters took a polite curtsy. Reginald nodded “They sure are beautiful, George.” your father smiled almost proudly “Yes they are aren’t they.” As your father, mother and reginald talked you couldnt help but feeling a pair eyes on you. You look to see who is the culprit to see Five whose eyes looked you up and down and met yours not daring to look away. This sent a shudder down your back and goosebumps on your legs. His green eyes pierced you like no other. You kept your eye contact till it was interrupted by Trisha dragging you to the dance floor to come dance. You kept your eyes locked with his for a moment before looking away. Your stomach felt a knotted feeling in it. You tried to push it away and just followed Trisha “Trisha! slow down” Trisha giggled “No! come one come dance there plenty of handsome men tonight!” you chuckled and sighed shaking your head lightly and joined in on the dance.

You have been dancing for some time now. Your cheeks slightly red and your heart racing. The man you were dancing with was quite good at this you must admit. Eventually you stepped out to have a break as you caught your breath and stood to the side you noticed none other than five was next to you. Suddenly it felt like the air was right back in your lungs. You looked at him a bit surprised he noticed your look and turned to you “Problem Mrs L/N?” you went a little red in the cheeks not exactly expecting him to remember you “Oh um…yes everything is fine.” You looked away and back to the people dancing a bit of an awkward silence happened between you and him. He then broke it “Shouldnt you be dancing with a man? Perhaps finding a husband?” you looked to him with furrowed brows “why exactly is that your business what i do?” he looked to you “It was just a question” you and his eyes locked and that shudder went down your body again until you looked away and back the group. He stayed looking at you for a minute till he looked away again and back at the people. He gave a hmph and walked off. You furrowed your brows and shrugged thinking nothing of it.

Later in the night your sister trisha was conversing with you about the man she was dancing with which so happened to be viktor hargreeves she was swooning over him immensely. Just then nearby five was talking to none other then viktor. Viktor turned to five “The L/N family is quite something else, dont you think, five?” five didnt spare a glance at his brother “Yes something else indeed. You and that Trisha were pretty cozy with eachother no?” viktor chuckled “Yes i quite like her. Lively one she is. What about you and that Y/N? I saw you talking to her earlier” five shrugged “She is alright i suppose” Five said that but something else was in his eyes. was it intrigue? Viktor scoffed “Really thats it? God when are you ever gonna find someone.” five finally turned to him “Viktor i only just met her. Im not going to wed her just because she might intrigue me.” Viktor chuckled and shook his head “So you do not like than?” five thought for a moment. “In a logical standpoint, no” Now that hurt. You scoffed and shook your head. Now are you mad he didn’t instantly love you? No but He could’ve just said he would’ve wanted to get to know you better instead of a flat no! Trisha looked a little shocked herself. she looked to you seeing your embarrassed look she took your hands “Don’t worry about him! there is plenty fish in the sea and this sea has many i saw looking at you.” you looked to her and smiled softly “Your right your right but-“ Trisha shook her head “Ah ah ah i wont have it. You don’t want him anyway. He is a fool for not wanting you besides you said it yourself, a damned buzzkill. Miserable man.” you chuckled and then full on laughed as she pulled you back out to the dance floor determined to make you feel much better about yourself.

Sometime later a slower dance was coming on you ended up partnering with the man from earlier. you never caught his name and you know what might as well now “I don’t think i ever caught your name” he looked down at you and chuckled “Ah yes i suppose not. My name is Edward. Edward wentworth.” he brought your hand to his lips giving a light kiss to the knuckle bringing it back in place for the dance. You has to admit he was quite handsome himself. You giggled “Edward wentworth? What a fascinating name” You and edward seemed to talk the whole time. He seemed more interested in getting to know you than immediately proposing marriage. Your mind completely abandoned the memory of fives harsh words he exchanged with viktor as you talked and danced with edward. Unbeknownst to you five was watching across the way. his eyes burned with something he couldnt put his finger on quite yet. it took over his impulses and made him walk his way through the crowd to you and stop you and Edward.

“Excuse me? mind if i cut in?”

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Hey ya’ll i hope you guys enjoyed the writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors! i love you guys stay safe ❤️

[chimindity]

Waitress's guardian

Summary | Rafe being overprotective of his little sister when she gets her first job. Request by @/anon

Pairing | Rafe & sister!reader

Warning | Rafe being overprotective, a bit toxic?

A/N | Rafe icons by @marvelfanfics1 ♡ I love your request!! Thank you so much, I deeply apologize for the wait <3

⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢

You hate whenever your brother is getting too protective, it almost suffocates you, as if you couldn't have your privacy without Rafe breaking in.

-"Rafe! Stop it and give me back my purse!" you yell, trying to get it back from your brother's hands, who's raising it up higher and out of your reach, -"nah, let me check it really quick," he pushes you away while grabbing tightly your pink purse in his grip.

He pulls out a red lip gloss from it and throws your purse on the couch, staring at the lipstick in his hand -"the fuck do you need that for?" He brings it in front of your face, and you yank it out of his grip, -"none of your business, Rafe. I'm going to be late," you huff, tugging down a bit on your dress before stepping out of the house, ready to work for the first time at a coffee salon.

You roll your eyes as you close the door behind you and start walking to the coffee salon. You greet your coworkers and begin to work, welcoming the clients and taking their orders. -"Hi, you can sit at this table. I'll be with you in a few seconds," you say this to every client whenever you're busy cleaning the coffee machine filter.

You pick up the little notepad and go to the table ready to write down their orders. You walk to the table, smiling warmly, and you freeze when you catch sight of Rafe in the corner of your eye. You sigh and eventually walk to his table, still being professional. -"What do you want, Rafe?" you huff, folding your arms across your chest.

He pretends to act surprised when he hears the tone of your voice, -"Is that a way to talk to a client? Not very professional of you, huh?" His cheesy grin appears on his face, noticing the way you feel embarrassed at the current situation. -"Seriously, Rafe, I'm trying to work," you bring your finger to your mouth, biting your nail nervously, causing Rafe's smirk to grow wider. -"I'll have, uh, a beer and maybe I'll take some coke," he leans back in his chair, acting confident.

Your eyes widen at his request - "Rafe! Are you insane? You can't say that out loud," you lower your voice, furrowing your eyebrows, trying to reason with him. He rolls his eyes and motions for you to go away - "whatever, just do your job, I'll be watching," he crosses his arms against his chest. As you move to another table and take the client's order, you soften your voice and give them a warm smile before writing down their orders.

You walk to the counter and pick up an empty glass, pouring it with orange juice. Setting down the plate and the check on their table, as you are about to walk back to the counter, you hear someone whisper. You turn back and see your brother looking at you, waving his hand in the air. You sigh and roll your eyes as you get closer to him. -"You know you can't keep bothering me, right?" you say, wiping your hands on your waitress's skirt. His eyes land on it, -"That shit's too short, how do they even allow you to wear that?" He looks you up and down, eyes filled with disgust.

You clench your fists, trying to hold back your anger - "you are so annoying, Rafe," you whisper, trying to ignore his words and focus on your task. - "Remember that I ordered cokes, sweetheart," you hear him talk behind you as you go to the counter, fixing your hair a bit.

You take a deep breath before picking up your notepad and go to the next table, where an old man is sitting, almost making you uncomfortable with the way he looks at you. -"Hi, would you like anything to drink?" you ask sweetly, eager for his order to be over already. He doesn't take his eyes away from your thighs, -"I'll take two coffees, honey," he says, sending you a weird wink. You quickly go back to the counter to make two coffees.

Rafe on the other side keeps staring at the man, waiting for his next move. As soon as you set down the plate with his two coffees, the client brushes your hand as he picks up the coffee, -"Do you mind if you keep me some company?" His sleazy smile creeps you out, making you feel like you have no choice but to accept his favor. -"Aren't you too young to work at a coffee salon?" he asks, slowly trying to slide his hand on your thigh, causing you to jolt in shock.

Rafe immediately understands what's happening and stands up, walking to you, sending a death glance to the man beside you. -"Get the hell out of my sister before I slit your throat," he says, pulling his arm around your shoulders to protect you while grabbing the old man by his collar. Your shaking figure trembles around his arm as you watch the whole scene in front of you. -"I'm sorry—I didn't know she was your sister, man!" The man stutters as he is finally released from Rafe's grip.

You try to catch your breath, your brother sighs before his attention is back on you, -"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you?" He stares at you trying to find any discomfort in your eyes. You shake your head and look up at him, -"No, Rafe, thank you, I'm fine," you respond out of breath. He quickly holds your arm, refraining you from going anywhere, -"Let's go home, please. This place is not safe for you. What would have happened if I wasn't there, huh?" He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. The soft tone of his voice convinces you to listen to him. You nod and hold his hand as he leads you out of the coffee salon.

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