#how to get women into engineering? uh

[very-uncorrect]

Aughhh I have work experience on Tuesday and Wednesday

[cressidagrey]

Classified Information

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Francesca Howard (Original Character)

Summary:

Liam Lawson tries to flirt with Red Bull’s new CTO.

Turns out, she’s Dr. Francesca Howard.

Also known as Max Verstappen’s wife.

And the mother of his son.

Oops.

Warnings and Notes: 

....Poor Liam is really going through in this.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Liam Lawson liked to think he had good instincts.

They had served him well in his racing career—knowing when to attack, when to defend, when to push and when to back off.

But apparently, those instincts failed him spectacularly the day he walked into the Red Bull factory for his seat fitting and met Francesca Howard for the first time.

He had heard the name before, of course. Everyone in the industry had. Francesca Howard—brilliant, ruthless, and the woman who had taken over as Red Bull Racing’s Chief Technology Officer after Adrian Newey’s departure.

What Liam hadn’t heard, however, was that she was also absolutely stunning.

She stood near the RB21 chassis, tablet in hand, deep in conversation with a few engineers. Her tone was sharp but calm, confident without arrogance, completely in control of every discussion around her.

And, Liam noted, she had a hell of a presence.

He adjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, rolling his shoulders back. He was good with first impressions. No harm in introducing himself, right?

He took one step forward—

And suddenly, he felt a hand grip his arm like a vice.

“Nope.”

Liam turned, startled, to find Gianpiero Lambiase looking at him like he was the biggest idiot to ever walk into the Red Bull garage.

Liam frowned. “What?”

GP sighed heavily, like this was already too much effort. “Don’t do it.”

Liam blinked, confused. “Do what?”

GP nodded toward Francesca. “Whatever you’re about to attempt over there—just don’t.”

Liam scoffed. “I’m literally just introducing myself.”

GP leveled him with a look, looking at him like he had just tried to run slick tires in the rain. “And yet, I’m still telling you not to.”

Liam folded his arms. “Why? Is she scary?”

GP snorted. “Not to me.”

That wasn’t an answer.

Liam narrowed his eyes. “Alright, what’s the deal?”

GP sighed again, rubbing his temples like he was too old for this conversation. “Lawson. I know you think you’ve got game. But trust me—not this time.”

Liam tilted his head. “What, is she taken or something?”

GP didn’t even bother looking up from his laptop as he muttered, “Something like that.”

Liam hesitated, suddenly feeling like he was missing some critical piece of information.

But then he shook it off. How bad could it be?

“C’mon,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

GP sighed again, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “rookies never learn” before shaking his head.

“Fine,” he said, stepping back and folding his arms. “Do what you want. But when this backfires, I’m not saving you.”

Liam rolled his eyes and kept walking.

How bad could it possibly be?

At worst, Francesca Howard would roll her eyes at him and shut him down politely. No harm done.

So he straightened his shoulders and walked over.

He liked to think he was pretty smooth, after all. 

Not in an arrogant way—just in a self-aware way. He had a certain charm, an easy confidence. People liked him. Women liked him.

What was the worst that could happen? Mild embarrassment? He’d survive.

So he walked up to Francesca Howard, clearing his throat as she studied something on her tablet.

“Miss Howard,” he greeted smoothly, flashing his most easygoing grin. “Liam Lawson. Figured it was time we officially met.”

She looked up, brow arching slightly, her expression somewhere between amused and unimpressed.

“Dr. Howard.”

Liam blinked. “Huh?”

Francesca tilted her head. “I have two doctorates. If you’re going to address me formally, at least get it right. Otherwise, you can just call me Francesca. It’s my name.”

Liam froze.

Two doctorates?

Two?!

He cleared his throat. “Uh. Right. Dr. Howard.”

Her smirk did not help his sudden feeling of impending doom.

Behind him, GP sighed loudly.

Liam could feel himself slipping.

Not in a physically tripping over a curb way—though, honestly, he wouldn’t put that past himself at this point—but in a mentally trying to keep up and failing spectacularly way.

Francesca Howard was too smart for her own good.

Or, rather, too smart for his own good.

And she knew it.

“So,” he started, recovering as best as he could. “Two doctorates, huh?”

She gave him a patient smile, the kind teachers gave students who had just asked an embarrassingly obvious question.

“Yes,” she said. “One in Aerospace Engineering, one in Physics.”

Liam nodded slowly, stalling for time.

“Right. Cool. Just… y’know, casual, two whole doctorates.”

Francesca smirked. “You only need one to replace Adrian Newey. I like to be thorough.”

GP, still lurking nearby, snorted loudly.

Liam ignored him.

“Well,” Liam said, shifting his weight, trying to regain some sense of control in this conversation, “I guess it’s a good thing we have the best of the best in charge.”

Francesca hummed, looking entirely unaffected. “I know.”

Liam blinked. “You know?”

“Yes.”

“No hesitation?”

Francesca shrugged. “Why would I hesitate? It’s a fact.”

Liam opened his mouth, then shut it.

Then opened it again.

Then shut it again.

There was no winning here.

Behind him, GP sighed loudly, shaking his head. “I told you, kid.”

Liam Lawson had officially lost control of this conversation.

Dr. Francesca Howard—too smart for her own good, owner of two doctorates, and completely unbothered by his attempts to charm her—had thoroughly handed him his ass in a simple conversation.

And now, he was trying to figure out how to exit gracefully without admitting defeat.

(There was no graceful exit. He was so screwed.)

But before he could say anything else, a new voice cut in.

“You’re making this too easy for her.”

Liam turned—only to freeze at the sight of Max Verstappen walking into the garage.

With a baby in his arms.

Liam blinked. What.

Francesca’s expression instantly softened, her entire demeanor shifting as she abandoned whatever she had been working on and zeroed in on Max and the baby.

“There’s my boy,” she murmured, ignoring Liam completely as she reached for the baby, lifting him easily into her arms.

Liam blinked. What the hell was happening?

The baby—who had Verstappen blue eyes and a suspiciously familiar frown—giggled, grabbing at Francesca’s hair. 

“Did Papa bring you to see me?” she cooed, pressing a kiss to his tiny forehead.

Max, standing there with all the smugness of a four-time World Champion who knew exactly what he was doing, crossed his arms. “He missed you. You’ve been working too much.”

Francesca hummed, rocking the baby slightly. “That’s because someone keeps breaking parts, Maxie.”

Max did not look even a little guilty.

Liam, meanwhile, was still trying to process the absolute madness unfolding in front of him.

Papa?!

My boy?!

MAXIE?!

“What,” Liam said, voice slightly higher than normal, “the actual hell is going on?”

Francesca turned to him, just now remembering he existed.

She sighed but lifted her left hand, flashing a wedding band so obvious that Liam genuinely hated himself for not noticing it earlier.

Liam’s entire brain short-circuited. 

“We’re married,” she said casually. 

Liam choked.

“You’re—WHAT?!”“You’re—” He pointed between them. “Since when?!”

Max grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “A while now.”

Liam turned back to GP, who looked entirely unshocked by this development.

GP sighed. “Tried to warn you.”

Liam needed a second.

No—he needed several seconds.

Because nothing about this situation made sense.

Dr. Francesca Howard—Red Bull’s new Chief Technology Officer, terrifyingly smart, and the owner of two doctorates—was married to Max Verstappen.

And, apparently, they had a whole baby together.

A whole baby.

Liam had spent months hearing rumors about who would replace Adrian Newey. He’d even done his research—looked into Francesca’s background, her achievements, the way she was basically a walking encyclopedia of aerodynamics and engineering.

But nowhere in his research had it said, Oh, by the way, she’s married to a four-time World Champion.

And definitely nowhere had it mentioned, They have a baby together, too.

Liam opened his mouth, then shut it. Then opened it again.

Then shut it.

Francesca, still holding the baby like he was the only thing in the world that mattered, raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Lawson?”

Liam pointed between her and Max, looking vaguely like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

“You—you—” he sputtered. “This—How did nobody tell me this?!”

Max, clearly enjoying every second of this, shrugged. “We don’t exactly make announcements.”

“You—” Liam gestured wildly at Francesca holding the literal Verstappen baby. “—You have a whole kid together!”

Francesca tilted her head, unimpressed. “Yes, Liam. That’s generally how it works when you’re married.”

Liam let out a strangled noise.

Max chuckled. “You thought you had a chance with her, didn’t you?”

Liam groaned, dragging both hands down his face.

GP, still entirely unshocked, clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder.

“Lesson learned?” GP asked, smirking.

Liam exhaled sharply, looking so very done with this entire team.

“Right,” he said finally, voice still slightly higher than normal. “So, just to recap—”

He pointed at Max.

“Four-time World Champion, absolute menace on track, king of the grudge-holders.”

Max smirked. “Correct.”

Liam turned to Francesca.

“Chief Technology Officer, too smart for her own good, owner of two doctorates—”

Francesca looked far too amused. “Correct again.”

Then Liam gestured wildly at the baby.

“And now you—together—have a whole child?”

Francesca, unfazed, adjusted the baby against her hip. “Would you prefer we only had half a child?”

Liam let out a deeply pained groan.

Max chuckled. “You’re making this too easy for her.”

Liam ignored him and turned back to GP, who was completely unbothered, like he had seen this exact scenario play out before.

“You knew,” Liam accused.

GP snorted. “Obviously.”

Liam threw his hands in the air. “Does the entire team know?!”

Max shrugged. “The ones who pay attention.”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

Francesca, still holding the baby like Liam’s existential crisis was just background noise, turned to Max.

“I’m assuming you didn’t just come down here to break the rookie?” she asked dryly.

Max grinned. “No, I wanted to see you. And I think Joshua missed you.”

As if on cue, the baby—Joshua, apparently—made a happy babbling noise and patted Francesca’s face.

Francesca melted. “Oh, my love, I missed you too,” she cooed, kissing his forehead.

Max leaned down and kissed Francesca, quick and familiar, like it was second nature.

Liam immediately looked away.

“Right,” he muttered. “Nope. That’s enough for me today.”

Max pulled away, still looking far too pleased. “You sure? I could tell you how we met.”

Liam pointed aggressively at him. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Max just laughed.

Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Okay. Fine. You win.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “We were playing a game?”

“I don’t know, Verstappen,” Liam muttered. “But if we were, you won.”

Francesca, still very much focused on her baby, hummed. “I always win.”

Liam shot GP a pained look. “Does she ever turn it off?”

GP snorted. “Nope.”

Max, smug as ever, leaned in slightly. “She’s always been this way, mate. You just had the misfortune of walking into it.”

Liam groaned. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Max grinned. “Not a chance.”

GP clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “We’ll let this slide, since you’re new, but you might want to brush up on team dynamics before making a fool of yourself again.”

Francesca, finally tearing her attention away from her son, smirked at him. “You’ve learned an important lesson today, Liam.”

“Oh yeah?” he deadpanned. “What’s that?”

Francesca tilted her head, eyes sharp with amusement. “That I’m completely out of your league.”

Max let out a bark of laughter.

GP clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder, offering zero comfort. “You’ll be fine, mate. Just... maybe do your homework next time.”

Liam shot him a deeply betrayed look. “You really let me dig my own grave, huh?”

GP shrugged. “I considered warning you. Then I didn’t.”

Liam groaned. “This is actual bullying.”

Francesca, clearly still amused, adjusted Joshua on her hip. “To be fair, you also called me Miss Howard.”

Liam winced.

Yeah. That had been a mistake.

“Right,” he muttered, shaking his head. “My bad, Dr. Howard.”

Max, absolutely no help at all, laughed.

Francesca pressed a kiss to Joshua’s temple before looking back at Liam, her expression turning mockingly sympathetic. “It’s okay, Liam. You’re not the first person to underestimate me.”

Liam groaned again.

“I wasn’t underestimating you,” he muttered. “I was just—” He gestured vaguely. “I don’t know! Trying to be nice!”

Max smirked. “By flirting with my wife?”

Liam turned bright red.

“Okay,” he said quickly, backpedaling so hard he could have reversed an F1 car. “I wasn’t flirting. I was just—” He waved a hand vaguely. “—being polite.”

GP snorted. “Sure, mate. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Liam exhaled deeply.

Francesca, clearly having had her fun, glanced at Max. “I have a meeting soon. Can you take Joshua?”

Max nodded, easily reaching for the baby. “Of course.”

The moment Joshua was in his arms, he lit up, giggling happily as Max bounced him slightly.

Liam watched, still trying to adjust to this absolute fever dream of a reality.

Max Verstappen—the most intense, hyper-focused, emotionally guarded driver on the grid—was a whole dad.

And, somehow, it actually suited him.

Liam shook his head, still slightly dazed. “I need to sit down.”

Max chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

Liam seriously doubted that.

Francesca, still smirking, patted his shoulder. “Don’t take it too hard, Liam. You never stood a chance.”

Liam groaned.

Max grinned. “Welcome to Red Bull.”

[seraphicby]

Office Desire (Eunbi)

Synopsis: You are a 21 year old working as Junior Writer at some Digital Agency. Three women, Ms. Saerom from marketing, Ms. Eunbi from sales, and Seoyeon as new Junior Strategist, keep pulling you out of your bubble. They bring teasing, tension, and feelings you're not sure you're ready to deal with.

Lee Saerom / Kwon Eunbi / Yoon Seoyeon

Warning: Mommy kink's involved through the story 9.5k+

A stolen moment with Eunbi, lights a forbidden fire that rocks your core.

It's Friday evening, and the office is finally quiet as the workday wraps up. You're exhausted, ready to crash for the weekend to recharge for another grueling week has become your unchanging routine since starting this job.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, head to the parking lot, and breathe in the cool evening air, already mentally checking out.

As you walk home, passing the parking lot, you spot Eunbi near a sleek SUV, her usual confident stride softened as she kneels beside a small girl, her daughter, no older than four, with pigtails and a bright pink backpack.

Eunbi's in a fitted blouse and skirt, still radiating that youthful, vibrant energy that makes her seem younger than her age, the kind of "hot young mom" vibe that's secretly been a naughty fantasy of yours. Her playful flirting in the office always stirred something in you, but seeing her now, in mom mode, adds a new image, warm, human, and oddly more alluring.

You hesitate but decide to say hi, not wanting to seem rude. As you approach, Eunbi looks up, her face lighting up with that familiar teasing smile.

"Hey, darling," she says, standing and brushing her hair back, "Heading off to enjoy your weekend?"

"Yes... just ready to rest, Ms. Eunbi" you reply, offering a small smile, your eyes flickering to the little girl clinging to her leg.

Eunbi notices and grins, bending down to scoop the girl up into her arms.

"This is Nabi," she says, bouncing her daughter gently.

"Nabi, say hi to mom's friend from work," the girl peeks at you shyly, her big eyes curious but cautious, and mumbles a soft, "Hi."

You give her a small wave, feeling a bit awkward, "Nice to meet you, Nabi," you say, keeping your tone light.

"She's cute," you add, glancing at Eunbi, who beams proudly.

"Thanks," Eunbi says, setting Nabi down and holding her hand.

"She's my little troublemaker, but I love her so much," her voice is warm, and for a moment, the flirty office Eunbi takes a backseat to this softer, maternal side.

Her eyes flick to you, "You're good with kids. Bet you'd make a great dad someday," she teases, her tone just suggestive enough to make your face heat up.

You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck, "Uh, maybe one day," you mumble, not sure how to respond.

Eunbi's grin widens, like she's enjoying your discomfort, but she doesn't push further.

"Well, get some rest, darling," she says, opening her car door to help Nabi into her booster seat, "You'll need it to keep up for brace the next week." She adds.

"Yeah, might need it, get home safe, Ms. Eunbi," you wave goodbye, your mind spinning as you walk away.

"See you on Monday, darling," she closes the door, start the engine and you can hear the car starting move.

That night, Eunbi is at home, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand.

Nabi is fast asleep in her room, tucked in with her favorite stuffed bunny.

Eunbi slips into bed beside her husband, who's already under the covers, scrolling on his phone. He's a kind man, steady, a good father, but the spark in their marriage has dulled over the years, worn down by routines and responsibilities. Eunbi, still glowing with her youthful energy, feels a restless ache she tries to ignore.

Her husband sets his phone down, turning to her with a gentle smile, "Long day?" he asks, his hand finding hers under the sheets. She nods, leaning in to kiss him, hoping to feel something more tonight.

They start slow, his lips soft but familiar, his hands roaming her body as she straddles him.

Eunbi's in a silky nightgown, her curves barely contained, and her husband's groans softly, clearly turned on by her.

But as they move together, clothes shed, she feels the familiar disappointment settling in.

His cock is small, barely stretching her, and though he tries, thrusting eagerly, his hands gripping her hips, it's not enough.

Eunbi moves with him, rocking her hips, trying to chase any spark of pleasure, but it's fleeting. Her body craves more, something deeper, harder. She closes her eyes, letting her mind wander to keep herself in the moment, but it's no use.

Her husband finishes quickly, a soft grunt escaping him as he comes, leaving her unsatisfied, her pussy barely tingling.

She rolls off, lying beside him, staring at the ceiling as he catches his breath, "Love you," he murmurs, kissing her forehead before turning over, already half asleep.

"Love you too," she replies, her voice automatic, but her body is restless. She sighs, pulling the covers up, knowing her husband tries his best but can't fill the void she feels.

The next morning, Saturday, Eunbi wakes up. She's still thinking about last night, her husband's effort, his small cock leaving her unsatisfied.

Over breakfast, she suggests a weekend getaway to her husband, something light, a trip to a nearby park or beach where Nabi can play.

"It'd be fun," she says, smiling at him and Nabi, who's munching on cereal, "We could all use a break," she adds

Her husband sighs, rubbing his eyes. "I'm beat, Eunbi. This week's been brutal at work. I just need to crash this weekend." He gives her an apologetic look, and though she nods, understanding, a pang of disappointment hits her.

She loves him, but his constant exhaustion leaves her carrying the weight of their family's spark alone.

As her husband heads to the couch with his coffee, Eunbi's mind wanders to you. She pictures your shy smile, the way you blushed when she teased you, and an idea forms.

Maybe you'd be up for joining her and Nabi for a day out. It'd be innocent, just a fun trip to keep Nabi entertained, but the thought of spending time with you, outside the office, sends a thrill through her.

She grabs her phone, hesitating only a moment before dialing your number.

You're awake by your phone buzzing on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Eunbi's name.

It's barely 9 AM, still need recovering from the workweek. You answer, voice rough, "Hello?"

"Hey, darling," Eunbi's voice is bright.

"Did I wake you up? Sorry, but I've got a plan. Nabi and I are going to the park today, maybe hit the beach after. Wanna come with us? It'll be fun, and Nabi likes you." Her tone is warm, persuasive, but there’s that familiar flirty edge that makes your heart skip.

You hesitate, rubbing sleep from your eyes. A day out with Eunbi and her daughter sounds nice, but the idea of being around her, knowing your own confused feelings, makes you wary, not sure if you should be diving deeper into Eunbi's orbit.

But she sounds so genuine, and you don't want to seem rude. "Uh... I don't know, Ms. Eunbi. I was gonna rest for today," you say.

"Come on," she please, her voice softening.

"It's just a fun day, taking Nabi play with. You'll be doing me a huge favor. My husband too tired, and I could use the company."

There's a hint of something more in her tone, not quite pleading, but enough to make you feel bad saying no.

You sigh, already knowing you're caving. "Okay, fine. I'll come," you say, sitting up in bed, "What time?"

"Sweet!" Eunbi’s excitement is clear, and you can almost see her smile through the phone.

"I'll pick you up in an hour. Dress comfy, it's gonna be a warm day. See you soon, darling," she hangs up before you can second-guess yourself.

You drag yourself out of bed, a mix of nerves and curiosity bubbling in your chest. You shower quickly, throw on a t-shirt and shorts, and pack a small bag with a water bottle and powerbank, trying to keep it casual.

A sleek black SUV pulls up in front of your place, and you spot Eunbi in the driver's seat, her sunglasses perched on her nose, her bob hair framing her perfectly.

She looks effortlessly stunning, her fitted tank top and shorts showing off her youthful figure, the kind of 'hot young mom' vibe that's been your fantasy for longer than you'd admit.

The reality hits, though, she's married, with a kid, and this isn't some sugar mommy scenario, even if your mind thinking the thought. You shake it off, grab your bag, and head to the car.

Eunbi rolls down the window, flashing that playful smile, "Hop in, darling," she says, her voice warm. You nod and slide into the passenger seat. The car smells like her perfume, light and floral, and you try to act natural.

In the back, Nabi's strapped into her booster seat, clutching a stuffed bunny, her eyes bright, "Hi, Uncle!" she chirps, her small voice full of excitement. The nickname catches you off guard, and you glance at Eunbi, who laughs softly.

"She started calling you that after yesterday," Eunbi explains, glancing at you with a grin. "Guess you made an impression." You smile awkwardly, turning to Nabi.

"Hey, Nabi," you say, keeping your tone light. "What's your bunny's name?"

"Bouncy!" she shouts proudly, holding up her doll.

She launches into a chatter about Bouncy's adventures, her words tumbling out in that endless, joyful way kids talk.

You nod along, asking little questions, and she giggles, clearly loving the attention. You're surprised how easy it feels, chatting with her, and it distracts you from the nervous energy of being so close to Eunbi.

Eunbi drives, her focus on the road, but she chimes in occasionally, teasing you, "You're good with kids, darling. You gonna steal Nabi from me," she says, her tone playful but enough to make your cheeks warm.

As you head toward the park, Nabi keeps talking, asking you everything from your favorite color to whether you like ice cream.

Eunbi steals glances at you, her smile soft but with that familiar spark, like she's enjoying watching you bond with her daughter.

Arrived at the park, a sprawling green space with a playground buzzing with kids and picnic tables scattered under shady trees.

Eunbi parks the SUV, and you hop out, helping Nabi unbuckle from her booster seat.

She grabs your hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours, and starts tugging you toward the swings.

"Uncle, come push me!" she shouts, her excitement shared. You laugh, letting her lead the way, her stuffed bunny Bouncy tucked under her arm.

Eunbi follows behind, carrying a tote bag with snacks and a blanket, her sunglasses perched on her head. You glance back, catching her smile, warm, almost tender, as she watches you and Nabi chatter away.

"You two are cute," she calls out, her voice light but with that teasing edge that makes your cheeks blush.

You focus on Nabi, pushing her gently on the swing as she giggles, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest from Eunbi's attention.

After an hour of running around, Nabi dragging you from the swings to the slide, then to a game of tag, you're all ready for the next stop, the beach.

Eunbi drives a short distance to a nearby shore, the salty air hitting you as you step out.

You head to a changing area, swapping your t-shirt and shorts for a white tank top and loose swim boxers.

When you walk back, you freeze. Eunbi's changed into a bikini, bright blue, clinging to her curves, her big breasts barely contained, her hips and toned stomach on full display. She looks like she stepped out of a fantasy, her youthful glow making your cock twitch instantly in your boxers. You force your eyes away, heart pounding, trying not to stare.

Nabi, in a cute blue swimsuit with little fish patterns, runs up to you, "Uncle, let's build a sandcastle!" she says, grabbing a bucket from Eunbi's bag.

Eunbi adjusts her bikini top, catching your glance, and smirks, clearly aware of the effect she's having, "Darling, keep an eye on Nabi, will you?" she says, her voice smooth, that familiar playful tone making your face heat up.

She stretches out on a towel, sunglasses back on, looking like she’s ready to soak up the sun. "I'll be right here if you need me," she adds, before lying back.

You nod, swallowing hard, and focus on Nabi, who's already digging in the sand.

You kneel beside her, helping her scoop sand into the bucket, but your eyes keep drifting to Eunbi, her curves, the way her bikini rides up slightly as she shifts, her skin glistening under the sun. Your cock stirs again, and you adjust your boxers, praying it's not obvious.

Nabi babbles happily about her castle, and you smile, trying to stay present, but Eunbi's presence is like a magnet, pulling at your thoughts.

You play with Nabi, building towers and digging sand, but every so often, Eunbi calls out, "You're doing great, darling!" or "Nabi, show Uncle your best castle!"

The day at the beach unfolds smoothly, with no awkward moments to throw you off balance. It’s just a normal, sunny day, filled with Nabi's giggles and Eunbi's warm presence.

You manage to keep your focus on Nabi, pushing aside the sight of Eunbi's bikini-clad curves, your earlier fantasies fading into the background as the day stays wholesome.

Nabi runs to the water's edge, splashing in the shallow waves, and you follow, keeping an eye on her as she squeals with delight.

"Uncle, look! Fishies!" she shouts, pointing at nothing in particular. You laugh, splashing a little water back.

Eunbi joins you for a bit, holding Nabi's hand as they dip their toes in the waves, and you catch her smiling at you, not the flirty smirk from the office, but something softer, like she's genuinely happy you're here.

As the sun starts to dip, you all pack up, sandy and tired.

"Let's grab some food," Eunbi suggests, brushing sand off her legs, "I know a good spot nearby."

You pile into her SUV, Nabi chattering in the back about her sandcastle, still clutching Bouncy. You're more relaxed now, the day feeling like a break from the week chaos.

You end up at a cozy beachside diner, the kind with checkered tablecloths and a kid's menu with crayons.

Nabi's thrilled, coloring a picture of a crab while you and Eunbi order burgers and milkshakes.

Eunbi sits across from you, her sunglasses pushed up, her face glowing from the sun.

She chats easily, about Nabis preschool, her love for spicy fries, random office gossip, but there's no heavy flirting, no suggestive winks. It's just... nice.

You realize, as you watch her cut Nabi's burger into smaller pieces, that Eunbi feels more like an older sister today, someone warm and familiar, not the bold, seductive woman from work. It's a stark contrast to Saerom, whose intensity always left you on edge. Eunbi is lighter, more grounded, even with her playful side.

"Thanks for coming today," she says, catching your eye as Nabi scribbles happily.

"It means a lot to Nabi... and to me," her smile is genuine, no hidden agenda, and you feel a warmth relief.

"No problem," you say, smiling back.

"It was fun," simple, easy, a day that feels like a reset. You're not sure where this connection with her is going, but for now, it feels good, like a bond that's growing in its own quiet way.

Eunbi pulls up in front of your apartment building, the streetlights casting a soft glow inside the car.

You carefully try to shift Nabi off you, but she whines in her sleep, her little arms clinging to your sleeve, refusing to let go.

You freeze, not wanting to wake her, and look at Eunbi, unsure what to do. Eunbi chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"She's had a big day, huh," she leans back, thinking for a moment, then says, "I don't want to wake her either. Mind if we come up for a bit? Just to let her rest a little before I drive home?"

You hesitate, your heart picking up speed. Having Eunbi in your apartment feels like a step into new territory, even if it's just for Nabi.

But you can't say no, not with Nabi sleeping so peacefully, and Eunbi's request so practical. "Uh, sure, yeah," you say, keeping your voice low, "Come on up."

Carefully, you unbuckle your seatbelt and ease out of the car, cradling Nabi in your arms. She stirs slightly but stays asleep, her head nestled against your shoulder.

Eunbi grabs her tote bag and Nabi's backpack, locking the car before following you into the building.

The elevator ride is quiet, the hum of it almost loud in the silence, and you're hyper-aware of Eunbi standing close, her perfume faint but familiar.

You unlock your apartment door, stepping into the small, tidy space, nothing fancy, just a couch, a TV, and a few bookshelves with your work stuff.

You gesture to the couch, "I will lay her here," you whisper, and Eunbi nods, grabbing a throw blanket from her bag to drape over Nabi as you gently set her down. Nabi curls up, still clutching Bouncy, and stays asleep.

Eunbi straightens up, looking around your place with a small smile. "Nice spot, darling," she says, her voice soft to avoid waking Nabi.

"Very... you," her tone is playful but not as flirty as usual, more like she's genuinely curious about your space.

"Want some water or something?" you offer, heading to the kitchen to keep your hands busy.

"Water's enough, darling," she says, following you to the small kitchen counter, leaning against it as you fill two glasses.

You hand her one glass, and she sips, her eyes meeting yours over the rim, "Thanks for today," she says quietly, "Nabi had a blast. I haven't seen her this happy in a while."

"No worries," you reply, sipping your water, feeling that warmth from her words, "She's sweet."

Eunbi nods, setting her glass down, her gaze softening, "She is good with you. It's... nice to see," she pauses, like she wants to say more, but glances at Nabi, still sleeping soundly.

You're both tired from the long day, and as the conversation slows, you sit on the edge of the couch near Nabi, your body sinking into the cushions.

Eunbi settles into an armchair across from you, sipping her water, her bare legs crossed, still in those shorts that show off her curves.

You try not to stare, you push the thought away, focusing on Nabi’s peaceful face, but your eyelids grow heavy.

Without realizing it, you passed out, your head resting against the back of the couch, the day's exhaustion finally winning, you're out cold, unaware of time passing,

Faint sensation pulls you from sleep. It's subtle at first, a warmth, a gentle pressure down there. Your eyes flutter open, and you glance down.

Eunbi, she's kneeling in front of you, her hands on your thighs, your shorts tugged down just enough to free your cock, which is already half-hard.

"Ms. E-Eunbi..." your voice shaky, "what are you-?" your heart races, surprised by her sudden action, her fingers working you, spreading the pre-cum already leaking from your tip.

"Shhh... you gonna wake her up, darling" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

You glance at Nabi, still sleeping soundly a few feet away, and panic mixes with arousal.

Eunbi smirks, "I've been thinking about this all day."

Before you can protest, her lips part, and she takes you into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head, slow and teasing. Her lips slide slowly down your cock, her warm, wet mouth taking you deeper as her tongue swirls against the sensitive underside.

You're gripping the couch, trying to stay silent as Nabi sleeps just a few feet away.

Her mouth sucks with quiet, her eyes flick up to meet yours, sparkling with something hungrier, like she's wanting this long ago.

You stifle a groan, gripping the couch, your body tensing as she sucks gently, her hand stroking what her mouth doesn't cover.

She pulls off with a soft, wet pop, her hand still stroking your slick length, keeping you hard. Her voice is barely a whisper, low and sultry.

She leans closer, "God, darling, your cock is so big," she murmurs, her lips brushing the tip as she speaks, sending a shiver through you.

"So thick... feels so good in my mouth," her words are blunt, dripping with lust, and your face burns, your cock twitching in her grip.

She glances at Nabi, ensuring she's still asleep, then looks back at you, "You know," she whispers, her hand slowing but never stopping, "My husband tries, he really does. But his cock..." She pauses, a faint smirk but disappointed on her lips.

"It's tiny. So small, barely anything. I hardly feel it when we were making love," her voice carries a frustration like a secret she's held too long. "It's nothing like this," she adds, giving your cock a gentle squeeze.

Your breath catches, image of Eunbi with her husband, unsatisfied, her body craving more, makes your cock ache even harder, "Ms. Eunbi..." you whisper, your voice shaky, unsure if you're protesting or urging her on.

She just smiles, wicked and confident, and leans back down, her tongue flicking over the head of your cock, lapping up the pre-cum leaking steadily now, "Shh, let me enjoy this," her lips wrapping around you again, sucking harder this time.

Her hand pumps the base, her mouth working the rest, and the wet, sloppy sounds are loud in your quiet apartment.

You bite your lip, stifling a groan, your hips twitching up instinctively as she takes you deeper, her throat tightening around you. She's relentless, clearly turn on by your cock's size, her moans vibrating against your it like she's getting off on it as much as you are.

Your body tenses, pleasure building fast, and you whisper, "Ms. Eunbi... I'm gonna..."

She pulls off, a string of spit trailing from her mouth to your tip.

"Not yet, not here," she whispers, she glances at Nabi, still sleeping soundly, then back at you, her hand still gently stroking your slick, throbbing cock to keep you hard.

"Got a nice bed for us?" she ask, tracing your cock already wet mix of her saliva and your pre-cum.

"Uhh... my room, maybe...?" you nod at your room, where's your bed at.

She's standing, tugging you up by your wrist. She leads you quickly, guiding you to your bedroom.

Once inside, she shuts the door carefully, locking it with a soft click. She turns to face you, her tank top clinging to her body, her eyes burning with intent.

"Let's continue, darling," she says, her voice hushed but raw, stepping closer. "I need you inside me. Your big cock, I want to feel it," her words are blunt, desperate, and they hit you like a spark, your cock twitching hard at the thought.

She pulls off her tank top in one smooth motion, revealing her full breasts, her nipples already hard.

Her shorts follow, leaving her naked, every curve begging to be touched. She steps up to you, her hands tugging at your shirt, pulling it off, then yanking your shorts down completely.

Your cock stands fully erect, slick from her mouth, and she bites her lip, staring at it like it's everything she's been wanting.

She climbs onto your bed and lying back, spreading her legs wide. "Put in me, darling," she whispers, her pussy is glistening, wet with need, and she reaches down, parting her folds with her fingers, inviting you in. "Give me what I need."

You're frozen for a second, your mind racing with the reality, she's married, Nabi's in the other room, this is insane, but your body's already moving.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her thighs, your cock brushing against her wet entrance.

She moans softly, her hands grabbing your shoulders, pulling you closer, "Don't make me wait," she breathes, her voice trembling with want.

You push in slowly, feeling her tight, warm pussy stretch around your cock, gripping you like nothing you've felt before.

She gasps, her head tilting back, her nails digging into your skin, "Oh fuck.... so big," her voice shaky with pleasure.

You start thrusting, slow at first, then harder as she urges you on, her hips rocking up to meet you. The bed creaks softly, but you're too lost in her, the way her pussy clenches around you, the way her moans stay hushed but desperate, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

"Harder," she pants, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you deeper.

"More harder," you obey, slamming into her, your cock filling her completely, the wet slap of your bodies echoing.

She's loud now, her moans barely contained, and you pray Nabi doesn't wake up. Eunbi's pussy is so tight, so perfect, drives you harder, your cock throbbing as you push her closer to the edge.

You can feel her pussy clenching harder around your cock, signaling she's close, "Darling... fuck, I'm gonna..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You keep going, slamming into her, your cock hitting deep, pushing her over the edge.

Suddenly, "Fuck~!" she cries out, a loud, "Ahhh~!" and her body convulses, her pussy squeezing your cock so tight it’s almost too much.

She comes hard, her juices gushing out, squirting in hot, messy streams that soak your cock and the sheets beneath her. Her eyes roll back, her mouth open in a silent scream, her face twisted, she's losing herself completely.

You pull out, giving her a moment to ride the high. Her juices keep flowing, dripping down her thighs, and she moans louder, her voice raw and unrestrained, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh, god... oh, fuck...” she whimpers, her hands clutching the sheets, her eyes fluttering as if she's in heaven. Her chest heaves, her breasts rising and falling as she gasps for air, still trembling from the release.

She is calming now, means ready again. You line up your cock, sliding it along her folds before pushing in deep.

She gasps, her head tilting back, her tongue still out, "Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice louder now, less controlled, her hands grabbing your shoulders, nails digging in.

You start thrusting, slamming into her with more force, your cock plunging deep, the wet slap of your bodies echoing in the small bedroom.

Her pussy clenches around you, hot and slick from her first orgasm, making every thrust feel electric. Her moans turn into cries, her tongue still out, her face twisted in pleasure, completely undone. "Oh god, darling... so big... fuck me!" she gasps, her legs wrapping tighter around you, pulling you deeper.

Your hands grip her hips, then slide up to her breasts, squeezing them as you pound into her, your cock hitting her deepest spots. She's loud now, too lost to care about Nabi in the other room, "Please... don't stop..." she whimpers, her hands clutching your back, her body arching into you.

You keep going, fucking her harder, her pussy tightens again, her second orgasm closing in fast. "I'm... I'm gonna..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her eyes rolling back.

You feel her body tense, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock as she comes, another gush of juices soaking you, her body shaking violently.

"Ahhh~! Fuck~!" she cries out, her tongue out, her hands clawing at you as she rides the wave. You slow down, letting her catch her breath.

"Turn over," you say, your voice low and commanding, surprising even yourself.

Her eyes widen slightly, despite her exhaustion. She obeys, rolling onto her stomach, then pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, her ass raised invitingly. Her back arches, her pussy glistening, still dripping, and you can't resist the urge to take her again.

You position yourself behind her, grabbing her hips as you line up your cock with her slick entrance. You slide in easily, her pussy so wet it takes you in without resistance, gripping you tightly as you fill her.

She moans, her head dropping forward, her hair falling over her face, "Fuck, darling... yes," she gasps, pushing back against you, already eager for more.

You start thrusting, your hips slamming against her ass. She feels incredible, her pussy clenching around your cock with every deep thrust, and you pick up the pace.

You reach forward, grabbing a handful of her hair, yanking it gently but firmly, pulling her head back. She gasps, her moan louder, her body responding, "Harder..." she begs, "fuck me harder." You pound her hard, your cock hitting deep, making her ass jiggle with each thrust.

Your hand comes down on her ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing as her skin reddens slightly. She cries out, her pussy tightening around you, clearly loving it, "Again," she moans, her tongue slipping out again, her eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the pleasure. You spank her again, harder this time, and she whimpers, her body shaking, her pussy so wet it’s dripping onto the sheets.

You keep going, yanking her hair to keep her arched, spanking her ass as you fuck her relentlessly. Her moans turn into cries, loud and unrestrained, her hands clutching the sheets as she pushes back against you, matching your rhythm. "Fuck... I'm gonna... again..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her body trembling violently.

You feel her pussy clamp down hard, her third orgasm hitting like a wave. She comes, loud moan, "Fuckkk~!" her juices gushing again, squirting onto your cock and the bed, her body convulsing as her eyes roll back, her tongue hanging out.

Her body shaking as she rides out the high, her ass red from your spanks, her hair messy from your grip. You slow down, letting her catch her breath, but you’re still hard inside her, your own release close but held back.

She shifts, she pushes you gently onto your back, "I want to ride this big cock..."

You lie back, your cock still rock-hard, slick with her wetness.

She climbs over you, straddling your hips, her big breasts hang heavy, her nipples hard, and she looks down at you, "My husband never filled me like you," she whispers, her voice raw, as she grips your cock, lining it up with her soaked pussy.

She sinks down slowly, moaning loudly as your cock stretches her, filling her completely. "Fuck... so big," she gasps, her head tilting back, her tongue slipping out again as she starts to move, her hips moving back and forth.

Her pussy grips you tightly, wet and hot, and the sight of her riding you, her breasts bouncing, her face twisted in pleasure, drives you wild. She grinds down hard, her hands on your chest for balance, her moans growing louder with every roll of her hips. "God, darling... you're so deep," she whimpers, chasing her next high.

You grip her hips, guiding her, thrusting up to meet her movements. She's relentless, riding you faster, her moans turning into desperate cries, her tongue still out, her eyes rolling back as she loses herself.

"Fuck… I'm gonna come again," she gasps, her body trembling, her pussy tightening even more.

You feel her hit her fourth orgasm, her body shaking violently, another gush of juices soaking your cock and thighs as she screams, "Ohhh~! Ahhh~!"

You can't hold on any longer. The pleasure's too intense, her tight, wet pussy and her wild moans pushing you to the edge, "Ms. Eunbi... I'm..." you groan, your cock throbbing.

In a sudden surge, you flip her over, pinning her back down. She gasps, her legs spreading wide, her pussy still dripping as you pound into her harder than before, your thrusts deep and desperate.

Her breasts bounce with each slam, "Yes... darling, pound me harder~" her moans loud, her hands clutching your shoulders as you fuck her.

The pressure snaps, and you pull out just in time, your cock pulsing as you come hard, "Fuck!" ropes of hot cum shooting across her face and big breasts.

Eunbi moans, her tongue darting out to catch some, her eyes half lidded, looking like she's in high as your cum paints her skin, "Yes... darling..." her voice weak, her chest heaving as she lies there, covered in cum, her pussy still twitching from her fourth orgasm.

You collapse beside her, both of you panting, your body spent and buzzing. The room is quiet now, just your heavy breaths and the faint creak of the bed.

She turns her head, her face flushed, cum still glistening on her lips and breasts, and gives you a tired, wicked smile, "That was... everything I need," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

You're too exhausted to reply, your mind reeling from the intensity, Nabi in the next room forgotten in the haze of pleasure.

She wipes a bit of your cum from her cheek with her finger, licking it casually, and chuckles softly, "God, darling, you're so good," she says, her tone teasing.

"Where'd you learn that?" she trails off, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious, "Have you done this a lot? Had a girlfriend? Or... someone else?"

Your face heats up, embarrassment creeping in as you realize she's asking about your experience. The memory of Saerom, flashes in your mind, but you hesitate. You're not sure you want to spill that, not with Eunbi lying here, her eyes searching yours. It feels too complicated, too risky to admit you've been with another coworker, especially someone like Saerom.

So, you brace yourself, deciding to dodge the truth.

"I... uh..." you stammer, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I haven't really... done this much. I mean, no girlfriend or anything," you pause, feeling your cheeks burn.

"I... watch a lot of porn." you blurt out.

Her eyes widen, and then she bursts into laughter, soft but genuine, covering her mouth to keep it quiet so Nabi doesn't wake, "Porn?" she repeats, her voice teasing, her smile widenin, "Oh, darling, that's adorable," she leans closer, her sticky breasts brushing your arm, clearly amused.

"So you're telling me all that, this..." she gestures waving to the soaked sheets and her cum streaked body "...came from watching videos? You're a fast learner, then."

You nod, relieved she's not pressing further, "Yeah, I guess..." you mumble, avoiding her gaze, your face still hot, "Just... figured it out."

She chuckles again, her hand resting on your chest, her touch light but warm. "Well, you're a natural, my husband could take notes."

She smirks, "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about, darling."

You clear your throat, your voice hesitant. "Ms. Eunbi... why me?" you ask, glancing at her, "I mean... today was great, and I've always thought you were... you know, amazing. But I'm starting to see you like... I don't know, an older sister. So why... this? Why me?"

Her hand pauses on your chest, and she shifts slightly, propping herself up to meet your gaze. Her eyes are serious now, no trace of her usual teasing smirk. She wipes a bit of cum from her cheek, thoughtful, then sighs, her voice soft but honest.

"It's complicated, darling," she says, her tone carrying a weight you haven't heard from her before. "I love my husband. I really do. We've been married eight years, and he's a good man, a great dad to Nabi. But..." she trails off, looking away for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She takes a deep breath and continues. "His... well, you heard me before. His pepe's small, and it's not just that. He barely lasts, and even when we try, it's like he's not... enough. I've only ever come with him a handful of times, and even then, it was nothing like this." she gestures vaguely to the soaked sheets, her body, you.

"And his sperm... it's weak. We tried for years to have kids. Nabi's our miracle, but most of his sperm doesn't even reach my eggs. Doctors confirmed it. We're lucky we got her."

Her voice softens, and she looks back at you, her eyes searching yours. "I've been faithful, mostly. But I'm human too, darling. I need pleasure too. I need to feel wanted, to feel my body come alive. My husband tries, but he can't give me that. But you…" she pauses, her hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, her touch gentle but electric.

"You're young, you're sweet, and... god, you're big. You make me feel things I've been missing for years."

You swallow hard, "So... you just need me for... this?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if you're hurt or just trying to understand.

She shakes her head quickly, her hand squeezing your thigh, "No, it's not just that. Today, seeing you with Nabi, how kind you were, how easy it felt... it wasn't just about sex. You're special to me, darling. I feel something with you, something I don't want to let go of," she leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I love my husband, but I need this too. And I want it with you."

Your heart races as you lie there, her words about her marriage and her need for pleasure. Her vulnerability, her warmth, and the way she's made you feel so wanted stir something deep inside you, a mix of desire and a strange, almost childish need for closeness.

You've always had this quiet kink, this fantasy of calling someone "mommy," someone nurturing yet commanding, and Eunbi, with her caring yet sensual energy, feels like she fits that role perfectly. But saying it out loud feels risky, embarrassing, and your face burns just thinking about it.

You swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper, unsure but unable to hold back, "Ms. Eunbi... can... can I call you mommy?" the words tumble out, and you brace yourself to embarrassed yourself again.

She pauses, her hand still resting on your thigh, and for a moment, you think you've gone too far. Then she chuckles, a soft, warm sound that eases your nerves. Her eyes showing something maybe an amusement.

"Mommy, huh?" she says, her voice teasing but not mocking, "Sure, darling... you can call me mommy."

She leans closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "And what does mommy do?"

Before you can answer, she shifts, crawling over your body, her naked curves hovering above you, her cum-streaked breasts swaying slightly, "She makes her darling feel pleasured," she purrs, her hand sliding down to grip your cock.

Her fingers wrap around your cock , jerking you slowly, her touch firm but teasing, coaxing you back to hardness.

You gasp, your hips twitching up into her hand, the word "mommy" on the tip of your tongue feeling so right yet so forbidden.

"M-mommy..." you mumble, your voice shaky, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

Her slow strokes make your cock throb, pre-cum already beading at the tip as she spreads it with her thumb, her grip slick and deliberate.

"That's right, darling," she whispers, her voice low and sultry, her lips grazing your neck.

"Mommy's gonna take care of you." She pumps you faster, her hand tight, her eyes locked on yours, watching every twitch of your face, every hitch in your breath.

"M-mommy..." you whisper, your voice trembling, "Can I... can I milk you?"

The words feel weird, almost too much, but the image of drinking from her, of her giving you that kind of intimacy, makes your cock throb harder in her grip.

Her eyes widen for a split second, then soften with a mix of surprise and delight. She chuckles, low and teasing, her hand never stopping its slow, slick strokes on your cock. "Oh, darling," she purrs.

She leaning closer, her lips brushing your cheek, "You want mommy's milk? Such a needy boy," her tone is both indulgent and playful, and she shifts, sitting up slightly to position herself better, her breasts hovering near your face.

She cups one of her breasts, "Go ahead, darling. Drink from mommy," guiding it toward your mouth, her nipple already hard and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, heart pounding, but you latch onto her nipple, your lips closing around it, and suck gently at first, your tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

A soft moan escapes her, her hand tightening on your cock, stroking faster as you start to suck harder.

Milk, there's a milk from her body, sweetness, it sends a surge of pleasure through you. You suck greedily, your hands reaching up to hold her breast, squeezing gently as you drink, lost in the fantasy.

Her moans grow louder, her hips shifting slightly as she watches you, clearly turned on by your neediness, "That's it, darling," she murmurs, her voice shaky, "Such a good boy for mommy... drinking so well."

Her hand works your cock faster, slick with pre cum, her fingers twisting slightly with each stroke, pushing you closer to the edge. The combination of her breast in your mouth, her nipple under your tongue, and her hand jerking you off is overwhelming.

You moan against her skin, the vibration making her gasp, her free hand tangling in your hair to hold you closer to her chest. "Keep going, sweetheart," she whispers, her voice thick with arousal. "Mommy loves this."

Your hips buck up into her hand, your cock throbbing, the pleasure building to a breaking point. You suck harder, your tongue swirling, your hands kneading her breast.

Her strokes damn good, her thumb brushing over your tip, sending jolts through you. "Come for mommy," she murmurs, her voice urgent, her own arousal clear in her tightening grip. "Be a good boy and come."

You can't hold back anymore. With a muffled moan against her breast, you come hard, your cock pulsing in her hand as ropes of cum shoot out, spilling over her fingers and onto your stomach.

She keeps jerking you, milking every drop, her moans soft and encouraging as you shudder through the orgasm, still latched onto her nipple, drinking greedily like it's all you need.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air, your body spent and trembling. Her hand slows, her touch gentle now, and she leans down, kissing your forehead softly. "Such a good boy," she whispers, her voice warm, her cum-covered hand resting on your thigh.

She sits you up gently, her hands on your shoulders. Before you can breathe, she kisses you deeply, her lips pressing hard against yours.

Her tongue meets yours, and the kiss is wet and messy, making you feel excited again even though you're tired. She pulls you close, her arms around your neck, her soft, sticky breasts against your chest. The kiss is wild, full of moans, and you're lost in her.

She pulls back, breathing hard, her lips wet, her tongue slightly out. Her eyes are full of desire, and she's so beautiful, "Darling..." she says softly, her hands still holding you.

You push her back onto the bed. She gasps, her legs opening as she lies under you, her body still wet from before, shining in the light. "Fuck me again, darling," she says, her voice needy, reaching for you. "I need you."

Your cock already getting hard again, you slide between her thighs, your body brushing against her wetness, and push inside. She feels tight and warm, and she moans loudly, her head tilting back, her hands grabbing your arms as you move. "Yes... so big," she gasps, her body tightening around you with every thrust.

You move fast, your bodies slapping together, the sound filling the room. Her moans are loud and needy, her breasts bouncing, her eyes rolling back as she gives in to the pleasure. "Harder... please, darling," she begs, her face showing pure joy. You thrust harder, the bed shaking, forgetting about Nabi waking up as you chase the feeling.

Her body shakes, and you know she's close. "Come for me, mommy," you say, and it pushes her over the edge. She cries out, her pussy tightening hard, her climax rushing through her, her moans loud and shaky. But she grabs you, her voice desperate. "Inside... come inside me, darling," she says, her eyes locked on yours. "I want it... please."

Her words break you. You thrust deep one last time, your climax hitting hard. You groan, releasing inside her, filling her as she moans, her body taking everything. You keep moving until you're done, then collapse onto her, both of you breathing heavily, tangled together.

She shifts, her fingers tracing your back, and sighs. "I don't want this to end," she says quietly, almost hesitant. "But... I should go home. My husband probably wondering where I am, and Nabi needs her own bed." She looks at you, her eyes soft but a little sad, torn between staying and returning to her life.

You nod, understanding, but part of you doesn't want to let her go. There's something you've been wanting to try, something sparked by the closeness you've shared tonight.

You swallow, your face warm as you gather the courage to ask. "Mommy..." you say, the word still exciting to say, "before you go... can I... can I taste your pussy? I'm curious what you taste like."

Her eyes widen, then a slow, happy smile spreads across her face. "Oh, darling," she says, her voice full of warmth and teasing desire. "You want to taste mommy? That's sweet." She leans up, kissing you softly, her tongue brushing yours, letting you taste a hint of your cum from earlier. "Of course, baby. One last treat for my good boy."

She slides out from under you, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs wide, her pussy glistening, still wet with your cum and her juices.

The sight makes your cock twitch, even though you're too tired to get hard again. "Come here," she whispers, patting her thigh, her eyes locked on yours, inviting you closer.

You move between her legs, your heart racing, your mouth watering as you lower yourself. Her scent hits you first, musky, sweet, and strong. You pause for a moment, then lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste her.

The first lick is thrilling, her juices tangy and rich, mixed with a slight saltiness from your cum. Eunbi moans softly, her hand finding your hair, guiding you gently. "That's it, darling... lick mommy's pussy," she murmurs, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You dive in, your tongue exploring her folds, lapping up her wetness, enjoying every bit. She tastes amazing, and you lose yourself in it, sucking gently on her clit, swirling your tongue, eager to make her feel good.

Her moans get louder, her hips moving slightly, pressing herself against your mouth. "Fuck... so good, baby," she gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Eat me... just like that."

You keep going, your tongue going deeper, tasting her fully, your lips closing around her clit as you suck harder. Her thighs shake, closing around your head, and you know she's close. "Darling... I'm gonna..." she moans, her voice breaking.

You don't stop, licking and sucking harder, wanting to give her one last climax. She comes with a sharp cry, her pussy pulsing against your tongue, a fresh wave of juices flooding your mouth as she shakes, her body arching off the bed.

You pull back, breathing hard, your lips and chin wet with her, your heart pounding from the thrill of making her come like that. Eunbi looks at you, her face red, her eyes glowing with happiness.

"God, darling... you're too perfect," she whispers, pulling you up to kiss you, tasting herself on your lips. "I'll miss this."

She sits up, slowly grabbing her clothes from the floor. You watch as she dresses, moving like she's trying to delay leaving. Once she's ready, she turns to you, her expression soft but serious. "This... us... it's not over, okay?" she says quietly. "But I need to figure things out. Just... don't forget about mommy."

You nod, your throat tight. "I won't," you say, meaning it. She kisses you one last time, soft and lingering.

She heads to the living room to gently wake Nabi. You follow, helping her gather Nabi's things, the little girl sleepy but happy in her mother's arms.

Eunbi gives you a final smile at the door, Nabi waving lazily, and then they're gone, leaving you alone in your quiet apartment.

It's Monday morning, and you're back at the office, the usual routine kicking in. The place is alive with chatter and the smell of coffee. Your weekend with Eunbi and Nabi, especially that intense, secret night with Eunbi, still plays in your mind.

You walk to your desk, half-expecting things to feel different after everything that happened.

As you pass the marketing area, you notice Saerom watching you. She's leaning on her desk, arms crossed, holding a file, with a small, knowing smirk. Your body reacts slightly, and you nod awkwardly, hurrying past to avoid her gaze, the memory of her lingering in your head.

Before you can sit down, Eunbi walks up, her heels clicking softly, holding a paper cup with a warm, playful smile. She's wearing a fitted blouse and pencil skirt, her figure clear but professional, her hair swept to one side.

"Morning, darling," she says smoothly, teasingly, handing you the coffee. "Did you rest enough yesterday?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and you know she's thinking of Saturday night, her calling you "darling," her body wet with you, her taste still fresh in your mind.

"M-morning, Ms. Eunbi," you mumble, taking the coffee, your face getting warm as you scratch your neck.

"Yeah... I, uh, got some rest." It sounds weak, but she just laughs softly, her hand brushing your arm for a moment, enough to make you feel a stir in your pants.

"Good," she says, leaning closer, her voice quiet just for you. "You'll need the energy for this week." She winks, then walks back to her desk, her hips swaying in a way you can't ignore.

You grip the coffee, trying to focus as you sit, your mind caught between Saerom's subtle look and Eunbi's bold flirting.

It's 11 AM. and the office is in busy, phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and faint meeting chatter drifting from a conference room.

You're sent to the photocopy room to copy some client files, a boring task that gives you a break from your computer.

Holding the papers, you open the door to the small room, the copier's hum filling the air.

But you stop dead when you see Eunbi there, standing by the machine with her own stack of documents. She's in her tight blouse and pencil skirt, her curves standing out, her hair loose around her face.

She looks up, her lips forming that playful smile. "Morning again, darling," she says, her voice low and teasing, you grip the files tighter, unsure whether to stay or leave knowing this is a bad idea, being alone with her now.

Before you can choose, Eunbi moves toward the door, her heels clicking, and locks it with a soft click. Your heart races, the sound loud in the small room.

"Ms. Eunbi… what-" you start, but she’s already close, her eyes sharp with desire, her smile turning naughty.

"Shhhh" she whispers, putting her files down and grabbing your wrist, pulling you to her, "We've got a few minutes, darling. Let's make it quick." Her voice is full of need.

Before you can argue, she lifts her skirt, showing her smooth thighs and black lace panties.

She pulls the panties aside, revealing her pussy, already wet and shiny. Your cock hardens fast, your breath catching.

"Eunbi… here? What if--" you mutter, glancing at the locked door, the office noise just outside. Getting caught would be disastrous, someone could knock or even have a key, but her hand's already undoing your belt, pulling it opens easily.

"No one's coming," she says softly, tugging your pants down just enough to free your hard cock. "I need you, darling. Fill me." She turns, leaning on the copier, her ass out, her pussy ready.

You're torn, fear of getting caught battling the intense desire running through you. But her scent, her wetness, and the way she looks back at you, tongue slightly out, begging without words, pushes you over.

You grab her hips, line up your cock, and push inside her in one smooth motion. She gasps, her pussy hot and tight, gripping you hard, and you both try to stay quiet.

You thrust fast and hard, the copier shaking a bit under her. Her juices make your cock slick, the wet sounds barely covered by the machine's hum.

"Fuck... so big," she whispers, her voice trembling, her head tilting back as she moves with you. You grab her hair lightly, pulling just enough to make her moan quietly, her pussy squeezing tighter.

It's quick and frantic, your cock pounding into her, her ass bouncing, her panties pushed aside, her skirt hiked up. You're both trying to be silent, but her soft moans and your heavy breathing fill the room.

"I need this," she whispers, her voice dirty, and your cock pulses, the forbidden thrill driving you closer to the edge.

You're almost there, and you feel her pussy tightening, her body shaking. "Ms. Eunbi... I'm gonna..." you whisper, but she shakes her head, pushing back harder.

"Inside, darling," she gasps. "Give mommy your cum." Her words break you, and with one last thrust, you come, your cock throbbing as you fill her, hot and thick.

She gasps, her pussy gripping you, coming too, her juices mixing with yours, dripping down her thighs as she trembles against the copier.

You pull out, breathing hard, your cock wet, her pussy leaking your cum as she fixes her panties and skirt, turning to you with a smug grin. "Good boy," she whispers, kissing you fast, her lips soft but eager.

She unlocks the door, grabs her files like nothing happened, and says, "See you later," with a wink, slipping out. You’re left stunned, heart pounding, the copier still humming as you try to wrap your head around the risky thrill of what just happened.

You're trying to pull yourself together, grabbing your files from the copier, when the door creaks open again. Your stomach drops as Seoyeon steps in, her tablet under one arm, a few papers in hand.

Seoyeon's presence is so different from Eunbi's bold vibe, quiet, shy, her long hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes meeting yours with a soft, hesitant smile that warms your chest.

"Oh, hi," she says gently, heading to the copier. "Just need a few copies for the pitch." She sets her things down, not noticing anything at first, but then her nose wrinkles, and she pauses, sniffing the air.

Your face heats up, panic hitting hard. The room smells of sex, Eunbi's juices, your cum, the raw heat of what just happened. You're sure Seoyeon can tell, and the idea of her realizing you just fucked Eunbi here makes you want to vanish.

"Uh, yeah, just… finishing up," you mumble, gripping your files tightly, your voice sounding forced. You shift awkwardly, hoping she doesn't figure it out.

Seoyeon looks at you, her brow creasing for a moment, but then she laughs softly to herself. "Weird smell in here," she mutters, almost like she's talking to herself, before turning to the copier, her fingers tapping the screen.

You let out a quiet breath, relief mixing with shame, your cock stirring slightly at the memory of Eunbi's pussy even as you stand here with Seoyeon, your crush, who has no clue about what just happened.

You want to say something, maybe chat to make things feel normal, but your mind's empty, caught between Eunbi's wild moans and Seoyeon's gentle presence. "Need help with that?" you ask weakly, pointing at the copier, trying to act casual.

She smiles, shaking her head. "I'm good, thanks." Her voice is soft, her eyes kind, and you feel a twinge of guilt, like you're betraying her just by being here after what you did. You nod, muttering a quick, "See you, then."

The next few weeks are wild, your life caught in a loop of secret hookups and sneaky moments that keep you on edge.

Eunbi doesn't stop. She finds any reason to get you alone, another quickie in the photocopy room, a fast fuck in the storage closet, her skirt up, panties pushed aside, your cock deep in her wet pussy as she whispers, "Mommy needs this, darling."

Every time, she comes hard, her juices soaking you, begging you to cum inside her, and you can't resist, your cock pulsing as you fill her again and again.

In the office, her teasing is quieter now, a coffee here, a light touch there, but her eyes always hint at more, and you're hooked, even though getting caught feels closer every day.

[jsmainblog]

not alone - spencer reid જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x lonely!reader

summary: reader is a university student and hits up bars as a product of feeling isolated/blown off from their friends. but this time they meet a very peculiar person who they spend the night with

a/n: okay don't judge this i'm not the best at writing smut this could be really bad

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), p in the v, not overly graphic but its still there yk

❤️‍🔥smut

Here you were again stumbling into another bar. It now seemed like a weekly occurence, which seemed a little sad. I mean if you told someone you end up in a bar at least once a week they'd think you'd have some serious drinking issues, or you were depressed, or both. These vists to bars where mainly fuelled by your friends, they were either busy studying or with their boyfriends, sometimes even leaving days to go back home when college got a bit much. So as you seated yourself at the bar you had the usual expectation of how this night was going to go, a drink and people watching probably and sulking, yeah definitely sulking.

You see the usuals at the bar. A family man slumped over his drink morosely, groups of girlfriends getting drinks and celebrating, asshole men hitting on women, two co workers drinking and laughing. Watching these people made your heart ache a little. How you so desperately wished for a little human connection right now. Any connection would do you wouldn't care, a friend, a stranger, even idle talk with bartender. You even wouldn't mind a little bit of physical connection. Your eyes scan the bar until the landed on him. This guy who sat alone sipping on a drink thoughtfully, he looked meek almost. You could tell he was the kind of guy who'd get bossed around alot by women, especially if they give him a bit of attention. So with a hesitant push to stand up you make your way over to him.

"Hi. You mind if I sit?" you question. You see his face properly for the first time.He was young, shockingly younger than you thought with big round brown eyes and soft pink lips. Why, he's got to be around your age maybe 24? 25?.

"Uh no, no I don't mind, don't mind at all." he stutters. You can see the flustered look on his face obviously indicative that he dosen't get approached alot.

"So whats your name"

"Spencer Reid. I-uhm whats your's?"

"Y/n. So what college do you go to?" you inquire. Maybe this could be your chance to befriend someone to lean on when your friends unsurprisingly blow you off once again.

"College? No I don't go to college, I uhm work for the BAU full time at the FBI." he states. Well that shocked you a bit. This young, lanky looking guy who looked like he couldn't lift anything heavier than a chair was in the FBI? You have got to be joking.

"Don't you have to have a degree for that? And your like what? 24? 25? Degrees take a long time so I'm not understanding how that lines up. Unless your a genius or something."

"I have an iq of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute" he rambles, but he notices you shoot him a 'get to the point look'. "Yes I am a genius. And to answer your question yes you need a degree, sometimes even a PHD or a B.A."

You look at him baffled, you could've deducted he was smart from his nerd get up but this smart? Wow how were you supposed to keep up?

"Wait so how old are you?" you inquire

"24"

"Oh same" you say which brings a smile to his face. A very sweet handsome smile. Oh my god are you seriously rambling about some genius you met in a bar less then 10 minutes ago?

"So whats you degree in?" You ask

"Well i have multiple degrees. I have 3 PhD's in chemistry, math and engineering and I have two B.A's in psychology and sociology. So I'm assuming you're a uni student whats your degree in? "

"History."

"Oh yeah?" he says intrigued

"Yeah." you echo like a prayer. This Spencer guy was clearly flustering you a tad and massively impressing you.

So it was even more of a shock to the system when you are clumsily unlocking your apartment dorm with his arms wrapped around you from behind sucking on your neck. The two of you still tipsy crash your lips into one anothers as soon as the door closes. You didn't have a lot of time to think but you could tell where this was going. Now Spencer is a attractive genius you met at a bar 2 hours ago, how well is he going to go during sex? The horrifying thought of him being a virgin crosses your mind as well. You wouldn't usually take a chance on a guy like Spencer but you were lonely and now well a little needy. By the time you two are stumbling into your bedroom practically glued to each other you've accepted Spencer may not satisfy you at all. You were kind of okay with that. At least you were with someone and not sulking alone in your room which you usually do at this hour.

You sit back on the beg tugging on his tie signalling for him to come with you.

"Have you had sex before?" you breathe into his lips. He laughs softly. Why was he laughing? Was he nervous? Did he think your ridiculous for asking such a question?

"Yes I have. Why don't think I can satisfy you baby?" The term of endearment flusters you once again. 'I can't believe you are getting so nervous around a guy who probably plays crosswords in his free time' you say mentally scolding yourself.

You spend so much time talking to yourself in your head you don't even notice the lower half of you is naked and he's eating you out like a man starved eliciting little moans from you. Oh so he's good. You were a little annoyed about his awkwardness falsely led you to thinking he would suck. But you were so wrong. You can't even focus on the pleasure he's giving you because your just thinking about him. How.. No, no not perfect he is. Okay well maybe he's a little perfect. No hookup had ever treated you so gently before. His hand's cradled the backs of his thighs tracing little comforting patterns. You had to admit it gave you a little whiplash. Here he was being all gentle and soothing while his head was practically smooshed into the junction of your thighs. Your hand combs through his mousy hair tugging at the strands. No hookup had ever even bothered on foreplay ever, or was so generous. Your general conclusions about hookups is that 80% of the time it was more about them than you. But, it seems Spencer Reid was an anomaly. When you feel the familiar feeling of warmth and tingles wash over you he kisses your legs softly.

"Your being so good for me." he mumbles more to himself then you and you smile at his praise. He positions himself over you ridding himself of his clothes and the rest of yours between kisses.

"Seems like I got you all smiley huh sweetheart" he teases which earns him a nod and he chuckles leaning into give you a gentle kiss. The way he made you feel when he was inside you was like heaven on earth. Not only did he make you feel physically good, but he made you feel good about yourself. Confident, safe, perhaps even a little loved?

"Yeah that's it. Your being so good for me angel. There we go. Feels good huh? Better than you expected?" he murmurs gently. You roll your eyes at his little surge of confidence but nod a little as your hands tangle together.

"You're so beautiful" you blurt starry eyed before whining.

"Thank you, I should be saying that to you, you know but looks like you beat me to it." he laughs. Before you knew it that wave crashed over you again a little harder this time leading to you moaning his name a little louder than you would've liked. His movements sped up, he himself whining and groaning loudly before squeaking. His release leaking into the latex sheath. You were right about one thing he was a little submissive after all. He slowly guides himself out with a soft pop, discarding the now sticky latex and pulling his boxers on. You try to sit up but his hand guides you to gently lay back down.

"Stay there, let me go get something to clean you up angel. It's the least I can do for you." he whispers pressing a kiss to your cheek before wandering off to the bathroom. You lay there and sticky satisfied mess. Without Spencer you felt a little cold and empty, but he made you feel more at ease and safer then you'd ever felt before which astounded you. He comes back with a warm wet cloth wiping down your intimate areas and sweat all while murmuring sweet words of praise and compliments.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" you mumble quietly.

"Yeah if that's okay with you my apartments a little far from here. Just.. if I leave before you wake up I'm sorry but my work's pretty demanding. "

"No thats all good." you say as he pulls you to settle in his arms.

"Thank you" he whispers into your hair.

"For what?"

"For letting me see you like that." you smile at his sickenly sweet sentence. 'Is this guy real?' You think to yourself as you drifted into sleep enveloped by his arms.

The next morning your bed's empty but your not too torn up about it because Spencer warned you the night before. You sigh rubbing your face as you sit up and spot a note on your bedside table.

"Y/n I'm sorry that I had to leave I got called in on a case. I really enjoyed what we did last night and again I want to thank you. In fact, I liked it so much I wanna see you again. Maybe this time with a little more clothes on so we can get to know each other a bit better. Anyways heres my number and I hope we can get coffee or something along those lines its really your choice . But hopefully sometime soon :)" - Spencer

You smile at the note giddily. Maybe this was the start of something great?

[girllblogging777]

TOTAL RECALL ౨ৎ

IN WHICH you get to know your coworker spencer, and try to take him off guard with questions

“alright, we got a new case in LA,” you spoke up, entering the briefing room where the rest of the team was already sitting. the sound of your voice made them all look up, and you tried to appear as confident as you could, despite the way your hands were holding tightly onto some documents.

today was your first day as the communications liaison of the BAU, and as much time as you’d spent training with JJ before she went on maternity leave, handling your first case by yourself was quite pressuring.

especially when you were surrounded by people whose job is to decode body language. remembering this, you immediately tilted your head upwards and shoulders back, before beginning to explain the case.

“four girls under the age of 25 have been abducted in the past two months. including two this week,” you spoke, walking around the table to hand the files to all of your new colleagues.

one of the agents, a brown haired boy you’d previously seen around, asked as he took the documents from you.

“are they under or over 21 ? because the statistics are entirely different within this range,” he explained, the rest of the team not even budging as he began rambling.

“three years ago, women over 21 represented about 65 thousands of missing persons files - 64 thousands nine hundred and fifty six to be exact…”

the man sitting next to the technical analyst smirked at you when he noticed the look of bewilderment on your face. “don’t mind the pretty boy,” he chuckled “he’s our walking encyclopaedia”

⋆˚࿔

about an hour later, after some more debriefing, you and the rest of the team boarded the jet. you sat down next to the window, fingers drumming against your thigh before a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“do you mind ?” the brunette (whose name you’d discovered was actually spencer) spoke, fingers pointing at the seat next to yours.

you shook your head, motioning for him to sit down next to you which he did, careful not to disturb your personal space.

the others were all busy talking to eachother, or reviewing the case while the plane took off, and you focused on the steady humming of the engine to distract you from the boy next to you.

“so, walking encyclopaedia, huh ?” you joked, echoing morgan’s words in attempt to get to know him a bit more. you were going to have to work together for a while, after all.

he turned to face you, his expression a bit sheepish.

“i just uh, have an… eidetic memory ?” he suggested, weighing each of his words, assuming that just like everyone else, you’d simply characterise him as a nerd and move on with it.

realising they were not joking about the extent of his intellect, you tilted your head. that was going to be interesting.

“oh, total recall ?”

“basically, yes.” he answered, and you noticed the slightest hint of a smile creeping up on his, now that you thought about it, very pretty face. “but unlike photographic memory, it includes auditory memories and other sensory aspects.”

“woah… so could ask you anything and you’d just know ?”

he wanted to tell you that this was not how it worked, that he could only remember things if he’d ever actually learnt them before. but the way you were leaning towards him and seemed genuinely interested made him want to keep appearing smart to you.

eventually, he realised that the conversation was taking a turn, and becoming a quizz. but spencer couldn’t blame you, that’s what people were usually prone to doing when they learnt about his memory. except this time, he actually was having fun.

“so, do you know like…” you looked around, trying to think of something to ask before your gaze dropped to the cereal bar in your bag. “how many granola bars are consumed every year ?”

a second. his lips pursed.

“about 808.5 million units. the global average of cereal bars consumers is 37%.”

your jaw almost dropped, you had to ask something else.

“and the current population of new zealand ?”

“5 millions two hundred and twenty three… that was two years ago” he answered so quickly that you almost wondered if you should look for an “off” button on his forehead.

“okay, that’s super impressive…” you said, shifting in your seat so you could face him. “i know it’s probably tough though, knowing everyone expects you to know everything and having to live up to their expectations…”

at that, his eyes darted down. he didn’t expect you to say that, especially since you were simply getting to know him. and yet, it felt like you saw right through him already.

“it can get a bit rough sometimes… especially when i feel like i’m not able to use my knowledge properly for a case and it just feels like… like i’m failing everyone.” he said, feeling strangely comfortable admitting this to you, even if you were the newest member here.

you simply nodded, wanting him to know you agreed.

“come on, you’re human. you may be smart, but of course you’re going to be taken off guard at some point.” your voice was light, and reassuring.

“it’s not like you’re gonna know the name of… i don’t know, the deadliest jellyfish in the world”

a chuckle escaped his lips and his chocolate eyes locked with yours. “chironex fleckeri ? commonly known as the sea wasp, or the box jellyfish,” he stated, “the venom can cause death within minutes”

yeah, you obviously still had a lot to learn about him. and about jellyfishes too, apparently.

[janeways-coffees]

Ok I'll bite. What is wheel of time about

Glad you asked!!!! The short version is that it's a story about the inescapability of fate and the cycles of violence and peace in the world!

The long version is uh. Well (spoilers)

So like. Theres a big wheel that weaves the fabric of reality, right? And people get reincarnated and their souls get spit back out into new people, okay? That's how the world works. Also there is magic But! There's boy magic and girl magic.

So imagine you live in a post-scarity fake utopia and you're essentially a magic researcher. You discover magic that is neither girl nor boy magic but a secret third thing everyone who can already use magic can use (its genetic). And you just went through like the worst break up. So you use this cool new power!

And end up tearing a hole in the fabric of space and time. And theres this like entity in there that promises all this power and stuff and you're like "uhhhh well i do wanna be president or at least have my PhD unrevoked" (PhD revoked for tearing a hole in space and time) and also your ex has decided the entity is like. Pure evil. Which it is but you can't let him win that argument.

So you and your ex's ex and like 11 other researchers who aren't getting anywhere close to enough funding are like. Ok. Y'know what. Kinda fuck with the entity. Also we really don't like your ex girl he's too goody-goody.

Unfortunately your ex is also a top level magician/physicist and leads his 100 best friends to go seal your excellent hole in reality. Boo. But before he does this the entity "taints" boy magic so all men who can use magic go insane and kill everyone they love. Unfortunately you were also sealed inside the hole in reality and kinda go into statis for 3000 years.

Anyways because all then male magicians are insane now they essentially are walking nukes with no direction and blast humanity back to the stone age. Some of them kill themselves and some of them level cities and some of them try to not use magic but that's like acting someone who smokes a pack a day to quit cold turkey. So. Humanity forgets.

They forget genetic engineering and flying cars and teleportation magic. They remember the bare bones of ancient oaths and treaties but they don't have conext for them. The dimension of snake/fox people you had a longstanding treaty with is remembered as a children's game.

Anyways 3000 years pass and humanity sinks into darkness and then slowly, painstakingly, rebuilds. You're still trapped with your 12 colleages and the entity, but you have some small influence on the world. You command small armies of genetically engineered beings and mutants to slow progress. You manipulate people's dreams in a parallel dream dimension. You still aren't over your ex.

And then finally your ex's soul is spat back out into the world. He's a shepherd from a remote farming village. He's destined to be the most powerful male magician in 3000 years. He will go insane one day because of the taint on boy magic. You still love him. He doesn't even know who you are. Sometimes you can here him in the boy's voice, his stubborness. His ability to love other women.

Wheel of time is this story. Told from the perspective of your reincarnated ex and his 2 best childhood friends (reincarnated battle tactician with unreal luck and a man who has rediscovered wolf-telepathy), his childhood crush (president of the united states of girlbossery), his old babysitter (woman with every anger issue, ever), and his three girlfriends (yes they smoke weed. No you still aren't one of them).

It's a series that redefined how women are portrayed in fantasy. It recently got a television show that is a slightly different turning of the wheel but makes up for it by being explicity gay and having incredible costuming. It has excellent worldbuiliding and excellent character driven plot lines. It's been an absolute joy to reread after 7 years.

[pricetagged]

lorica

Dark November nights aren't safe, especially not for women lingering outside pubs. A taxi should get you home, and it would have if you'd remembered to double-check the license plates.

Here is 2.2k drabbly nonsense since I feel bad about my month-long lack of posting. Ghost/Reader/Price (with implied 141/Reader at the end).

Content: Dark, MDNI, kidnapping, threat of violence, guns, body neutral, f-reader, unedited.

_____________________

White whisps danced and swirled in the air before you, your breath given substance in the chill of the night.

You shuffled from foot to foot, cold air and anxiety swirling in a discomforting soup that sunk down to your bones  A glance up and down the street confirmed that yes, your taxi still hadn't arrived. You unlocked your phone once more, foolish in the hope that staring at the screen would make the car appear sooner. The little black icon on the app mocked you. Your driver is 2.6km away!

A sudden cheer split the silence, flooding from the frosted windows of The White Hart. You and your friends had agreed to leave by 8 p.m., hoping to avoid the jeering and jostling of impassioned football fans. A quiet drink after work was one thing; you hadn't, however, planned on lingering to catch up with the Premier League. The noise of rowdy punters and drunk men spilled once more into the street behind you, making your heart race a little. They were just watching a match, just in their cups…

But standing solitary as you were in the dimly lit street it reminded you that you were alone.

A single streetlight buzzed and flickered its dim companionship.

You could see your breath puffing out in front of you, white on black as the night stretched on. Perhaps you should've agreed to the lift that your friends' offered, cursing your politeness. Don't want to inconvenience you! I'm headed in the opposite direction - let me just call a cab. Dark nights weren't often kind to lone women. Winter, too. It left you shivering, trussed up in fleecy fabrics as the wind bit at your numb nose and made your eyes stream. You looked like some soft, gentle thing huddled in a doorstep, hoping to pass the night safely. You panted a little, unease quickening your breath. The misty vapor furled upwards; you imagined it carrying off your hopes. Your desperation. Please, let this car arrive. Let me get home.

A nondescript black car slowed along the curbside, wheels slick and splashing in the stagnant water gathered by the gutters. You caught the tail end of the license plates, mud splattered yes, but you could see some numbers and letters shining through. Finally. You puffed out your relief, tucking your phone away as you reached for the door. Prayer answered, it seemed.

A wave of warm air kissed your cheeks as you slid in, dry and comfortable.

'Hi, how's it going? 2350, right?' You sent a half-glance at the driver, pulling your seatbelt on as you waited for confirmation.

The gears of the belt buckle clicked in the silence. Heavy, noticeable silence.

Turning back towards the front seat, your polite smile wavered slightly. The driver was a big man. Strange that you hadn’t noticed it before, but he was hulking in the seat, shoulders stretching beyond the limits of the side panels. You swallowed slightly as you noticed the headrest barely brushing the nape of his neck.

Two unwavering, dark eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror.

'Uh…' you faltered slightly, perched like bird in the backseat eager to take off, feathers ruffling and twitching. 'This is- you're the car I called? Confirmation number 2350?'

You could feel your face heating -from the chill outside, the AC inside, the mounting embarrassment - skin feeling itchy and tight. Still, you were reluctant to break his gaze. Your instincts sparked, flared to life illuminating only the thought to keep him in your sights. You felt altogether too cramped in the car, his presence spilling across the back seats.

'Yeah, 2350,' his voice rumbled over the hum of the engine. 'Tha's right.'

He made no move, didn't even blink as he stared you down. You could just about make out the arch of blond eyebrows, the craggy lines of a well-worn face but a black barrier mask halted any further consideration. You cracked first, glancing down to his thick, gloved hand resting on the gearstick. The entire dash was dark, no blue light or luminosity from his phone. No digital dials or screens anywhere.

'Aren't you gonna type it in the app? Confirm it from your end?' You hoped he didn’t notice the shake in your voice, unease plucking at your vocal chords weaving nerves into noise.

'Waitin' on yer rideshare, aren't I?'

'I didn't book a rideshare, this is just-' You cut yourself off as your numb, clumsy fingers groped for your phone. 'Let me check, I should've just booked a solo journey-'

'No need, 's'a busy night. Friday. Match on, lots of punters.' His voice was deep, tumbling like gravel from his chest. It was disjointing, actually, with his mouth covered and the lights off. His voice seemed to echo around, filling all the dark curves and corners of the car's interior. Coming from nowhere but this beast of a man with no mouth.

You shook off the thought like waterdrops from your hair. He was just a working man. Big, yes, gruff, but no need to tar him with the sticky, resinous pitch of your paranoia.

'Yer lucky to get a ride,' he continued. 'Car pool's better than standin' out in the street by y'rself. S'not safe.'

You relaxed a little into the seat, tension trickling away. Slightly. It lingered still at the base of your spine, on the back of your neck.

'Right,' you puffed out a breath as you slid your hand from your pocket. 'Do you know how long they'll be? It's just that I've been out since work this morning and I'm looking to get home sharpish.'

He snorted at that, loud and curt, "'e'll be out when he's out. Someone waitin' for ya to get home, or wot?'

'No,' you hesitated, awkwardness cutting you short, 'sorry. Just tired.'

He hummed at that, flicking his eyes around the silent street outside. Murky, orange light cut through the condensation of the pub windows, casting a faint haze on the shutters and bars of the nearby shops. All closed for the night. All empty.

'Wot you doin' out by y'rself anyway?'

Odd. He didn't seem the type for small talk.

'I wasn't out by myself,' you cringed at how pandering it seemed. How you felt you had to justify yourself. 'Was out for drinks with some colleagues and friends.'

He huffed at that, muttering something too low for you to hear. It made you prickle, for sure that it was at your expense. Maybe you should stick in your earphones, stop talking and just treat this like the transaction that it was. You drummed your fingers against the door panel, breath fogging up the window as you stared out aimlessly.

A few beats passed like that, quiet settling uncomfortably in the car like an itchy blanket. You could feel it, wanted to shift away or throw it off or something, but a glance outside at the damp, litter-strewn street kept you still. Better just to endure the discomfort if it got you home.

The snick of the locks disengaging made you jolt, drowsiness dispersing at the sudden shock of cool air from in front.

A man, almost as tall and broad as your driver, settled into the front passenger seat. His eyes, flinty under his stern brow, mapped the length and breadth of your bundled form. His lips twitched under his mustache, amusement or disbelief carved into the burgeoning smile.

'What's this, then? Picked up a stray?'

You bristled a little, scintilla of apprehension raising the hairs on your arms. They shared a look, something warm and familiar passing between them as the idling engine hummed back to life. They sat in front, black-clad and broad shoulder to broad shoulder nearly blocking your entire view of the dash.

'It's your rideshare, in't it?' the driver grunted as he pulled away from the curb.

'Booked a cab, did you sweetheart?' the stranger turned to you, strong face in profile. You could make out fragments - high nose bridge, dark hair, mutton chops obscuring most of his face. The darkness veiled the details, like staring at a painting through gauze. He was the image, the impression of a man, yes, but distant. Unsettling.

'Clearly,' tiredness and nerves made you sharp. Brittle. You sunk further into the seat, clutching your bag on your lap. As if it could act as a barrier. A shield.

A string of tension hummed, taut and quavering. You tried to ignore, watching streetlamps blur together outside, it but it whirred high and distracting. They noticed it too, you thought, shoulders squaring up as muscles tensed and flexed. The stranger huffed through his nose, proud and steady as an ox. You swore that you heard the driver chuckle under his breath, a low hehehe as he indicated right and turned off from the M60.

'Testy one, I see,' he hummed, disapproving. 'Gonna have to fix that attitude.'

The string snapped, you snapped, 'Look, Sir, I'm not trying to be rude, but I don't fancy a chat. I'm just trying to get home.'

You fumbled in your bag for your earphones, hoping to drown out any awkward silences or terse comments.

'Alright, that's enough of that. Simon, pull over.'

You looked up, half in alarm and half at the authoritative tone of his voice. The driver, Simon apparently, swerved into the hard shoulder with a 'roger that'.

The tattoo beat of your heart drowned out your thoughts, heavy thumps rushing past your ears and thrumming down to your fingertips. You scrambled for the doorhandle, scratching clumsily like a mouse.

'What are you doing? Is this some kind of Chuckle Brothers double act because if so, it's not funny,' your words fell like fragile little shards, hoping to cut but shattering in the air. Your pitch rose, 'You want the bag, my things? I'll report you, you shouldn't be fucking working this job.'

Your phone felt heavy in your hand, shaking fingers missing the keypad as you tried to type the password.

The stranger sighed heavily, patronising. Like you were inconveniencing him in some way. You licked you lips and glanced up, ready to run your mouth again as the app loaded.

A steely glint by the central console strangled the words in your throat.

'Didn't want to have to do this sweetheart,' the stranger's lips quirked up in a sad, half-smile. You scanned his face, seeing no note of hesitation. Just cool, steady eyes and that stupid, fake smile. 'Hand that over, nice and easy.'

Neurons fired, trying to make connections or plans. Trying to assess. Here you were, alone in a car with two strange men. You shouldn't hand your phone to them, you could barely feel your fingers anymore, never mind unfurl them from the edges of the case. If you handed over your phone - your lifeline- then what?

If you didn't hand it over, you had the answer to that question from the barrel of the gun pointed your way.

You stared at it, dull silver in the dark. Like a cynosure, it pulled your gaze towards it. A sick facsimile of the North Star, leading you away from safety and further into the den of the wolves ahead.

Your animal instincts screamed, struggled, but lost as you passed your phone into his large, calloused grasp.

'Good girl,' he smiled fully then, round cheeks and bright eyes masking the coldness beneath. 'Don't get fussy now - Simon, the locks - just sit tight and you'll be home in no time.'

You tugged futilely at the handle, useless now that Simon had engaged the child-safety lock.

'I don't live down this way, I- this is not the right way,' you licked your lips again, mouth dry and bitter with the taste of rising bile. You could see, now, that you wouldn't be going home that night. Your next words tasted acrid, tinged with defeat.  'Why are you doing this?'

'Thought ya wanted to come wiv us,' Simon's gravelly voice cut in, amusement warming the pitch into something mocking. 'Why else jump into a strange car?'

'You said you were my taxi, you confirmed-'

'Did I?' you saw his eyebrow quirk, dead predator eyes meeting yours once more through the rear-view mirror. 'Not very good at lookin' after y'rself, are ya?'

Your quick little breaths fogged up the window beside you. It was hard to see, hard to think. But clearly, not thinking had brought you this far. You didn’t think to accept your friends' offer, didn’t think to properly check the license plates, didn't think open the app and check the journey status.

There must have been something of surrender in the tremble of your lips. In the flickering of your wide, glossy eyes. It scented the air, whetting the appetite of the beasts in front of you, swirling around their chops.

'S'alright, love. We'll get ya home. Get ya taken care of.'

Lacrima painted your lash line, salty and hot as it brimmed over and down your cheeks.

You heard a rustle, felt a rough thumb brushing at your tears. The stranger had reached back, large hand nudging your face back up to look at him.

'No more tears, now, c'mon,' he dug his into the corner of your mouth, tugging your lips into a coy, marionette simper. 'Smile, sweetheart. The rest of the boys are dying to meet you.'

________________________________

Bit rushed, but hey 🤷‍♀️. This has probs been done before but here's my spin. Apologies for the lack of fics lately! Feel like I'm getting my groove back so should have some actual content out soon.

[bucksboobs]

On their way to a fire, Buck opens his big mouth and says something very stupid. Not an unusual occurrence but this one is unique: “Hey, Hen? Can I ask you a gay people question?”

Hen side-eyes him. “Are you sure now’s the best time?” The engine shakes on its suspension.

Buck blusters forward. “So Tommy and I have been dating a month and a half now.” The mention of Tommy grabs both Chim and Eddie’s attention.

“Wait, really?” Chim asks, Hen’s not sure if he thought it was shorter or longer than that. His memory of time seems to be the worst hit by the encephalitis.

“2 months next Thursday.” Eddie says.

“Y-yeah… that’s right.” Buck raises his eyebrows at Eddie. The rest all stare, Hen included. Those two have always been locked at the hip but knowing each other’s anniversaries seems excessive. Buck seems to agree.

“How do you know that?” She asks.

“Their first date was the same day I asked Marisol to move in with me.”

“When did Marisol move in with you?” Hen and Chimney ask in unison. Last she heard about Marisol she had only just met Chris, moving in seemed a long way off for them. Since when was she living with him?

“She didn’t” Bobby answers, giving his sternest glare to the rear view mirror. Hen knows this means she’s in charge of keeping these fools in check so he can focus on driving.

“Yeah we decided against that. Anyway Buck you were talking about Tommy?” Hen stifles a laugh. There was a story there she was going to have to wring out of Bobby because Eddie’s deflection abilities are legendary.

“Yeah so- um- ho-how long before we can uh…”Hen cocks her head. What exactly is Buck after with Tommy right now, they’re not nearly to the point of I love yous and she doesn’t think Buck would be this nervous about dating advice. “I mean how long did you and Karen wait until you, uh” Oh.

“Had sex?” Hen asks bluntly.

“Whoa, you and Tommy haven’t had sex yet?” Chimney asks, astonished.

“Buck when’s the last time you waited this long with anyone?” Eddie asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Never? Maybe high school?” That tracks.

“Or Abby.” Chim offers. Buck winces at that. She knows that woman did him dirty, looks like the scar still aches.

“Six minutes to ETA.” Comes from the drivers seat. “5 and a half…” Bobby takes a sharp turn that shakes the whole truck. “5 minutes.”

“So how do I ask him to fuck me.”

A chorus of “BUCK!” rings through the truck. Eddie looks petrified at the idea of his best friends having sex with each other, Chim looks exhausted with his brother-in-law of barely a month and look, Hen would give the world to see this kid happy but sometimes he’s just too stupid for his own good.

“Buck. I think you need to remember Tommy doesn’t have a lot of experience in this area either.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Did you forget he’s only been out as long as you’ve been at the 118?” Hen learned that about Tommy from Buck’s gushing the day after the wedding. She’d also talked to him in a fluorescent lit waiting room after the most gorgeous hospital ceremony she’s ever been a part of, so she’s aware that he’s not used to being with men that want more than just sex from him. “He might think you’re just as nervous as he is.”

“I didn’t know he got nervous.”

Chim huffs at that. “Next time you see him ask him to tell you a story about a rooster.” That makes Hen smile.

“He probably won’t believe you’re ready until you can talk to him about it.”

“I don’t— I-it usually just kind of happens. You get a look, there’s a nod, they look at your lips and lean in…”

“Yeah but that was women who knew what they wanted and what you wanted. Tommy won’t know unless you tell him what you’re ready for.”

“So to get him to fuck me I have to tell him to fuck me?”

“Jesus, Buck. Yes.” Hen laughs. They are, thankfully, finally pulling to site so she doesn’t have to enumerate exactly how he needs to ask. If she did she’d have to explain birds and bees that she is not the best person to explain.

“Come on, kids, let’s save some lives.” Bobby calls as he pulls the parking break.

The fire looks pretty bad, two story house, they’ll have to split up by floor. As they gear up Buck says, privately, off-mic. “Thanks Hen, you’re a good Gay Yoda”

“Do him or do not, there is no try.”

[lovingthewildlife]

Cato and the unknown heat

Summary: Cato gets hit with a sex pollen, but he doesn't realize it. Neither does his serf until it's a little bit too late.

TW: Power Imbalance, dub-con

Note: This thing took me for friggin' ever! It's probably OOC and I'm sorry. Hopefully it's still enjoyable. I'm ngl, I'm also really not used to tagging other people cause no one really asks for me to tag them but uh... yeah. *dumps fic and runs away*

Tagged: @incrediblethirst @bookandyarndragonwritesdark

How was he supposed to focus on anything when someone was keeping the heat turned up to the maximum? Cato was glad that he'd gotten out of his armor earlier and changed into a looser set of formal robes, but even the normally light linen felt like it was clinging to him. A look down at his chest showed that it, indeed, was clinging from the sweat that was pouring off of him. A sneer curled his lip and he abruptly turned around to head towards his room and the private showers that were there. It was small but it would be efficient enough to get the sweat off him so he could change into something clean and get a message sent to see about turning the heat down. There had to be something wrong with the engines if the whole of the ship was being blasted with this infernal humidity.

He felt like he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and the sensation made him want to crawl out of his skin. It was one thing to work up a sweat while in the middle of a fight, but to have to deal with it off duty was another entirely. He typed in the code for his room perhaps a bit too forcefully and was greeted with his room being slightly cooler than the rest of the ship. He liked to keep his quarters a few degrees cooler so that was no surprise, but he had hoped that he'd feel more of a difference than just that. The heat must truly be rushing all throughout the system of Macragge's Honour if it was getting into the private rooms as well. He could only imagine how bad it was down in the barracks or the serfs quarters where people were more packed in.

Briefly, his mind lingered on the thoughts of the serfs quarters. He'd glimpsed them briefly before, it was only natural to head that way when one wanted to select a personal serf. As much as he had originally balked at the idea of a personal serf, it was an unfortunate necessity with the additional workload that he'd needed to take with his commendations. So he went down to the quarters, needing to see what they were like when they thought that they weren't being observed, to ensure that they had the grace and dignity required to serve him properly. The rooms were larger, but only because the serfs were packed in close. Separated by gender, when he'd glanced at the rooms themselves he'd seen a definitely distinction between the mens and women's rooms. They were both clean, of course, nothing else would be tolerated.

But the women's rooms had a section that was dedicated to physical upkeep that wasn't in the men's quarters. Not for ablutions, but simply so they could do one another's hair before going out on duty. It was fascinating to watch lithe fingers toying with tresses, separating sections and braiding parts before looping them upwards or around buns to keep the hair out of the way. It was necessary to keep it out of the way, naturally, but the way that the hair was style was varied from woman to woman.

He'd also had the distinct impression that his prescence hadn't been welcomed and he'd been politely requested to leave before he could watch too much of the pagentry.

It was… fascinating. So of course, he had requested a female serf to tend to him.

You were interchangable with many other serfs in the aspect of your diligence. Surely there were plenty of others who could do just the same tasks and with just the same amount of skill. But he was fascinated with you because of how you held yourself at all times.

Walking into his shower room, he tapped the button that would request you to come and attend him. He needed his dirty robes taken down to be laundered and he wanted you to talk to the mechanicus in charge of temperature to make sure that this blasted heat was turned down.

Normally he'd at least fold his robes before putting them in the laundry basket, but the fabric just came down with a wet sound as it hit the floor and he groaned, turning on the shower at high blast. Much as he wanted to have something ice cold, he knew that hot would better to get the sweat off and he stepped under the spray. The small space of the shower made the heat feel all the closer and he turned his back to the shower head, resting his forearms on the tile in front of him, giving himself a moment to enjoy the slick sensation riding across his back and trickling down his sides. He wasn't normally given to indulgences and he blinked at the tiles, leaning back into the heavy pounding of water against him.

The door of the shower room opened a fraction, a quiet knocking preceeding that let him know just who had stepped into his quarters. He could hear your voice but not the words being said, his heart pounding quicker than before. Licking his lips, he snapped out a hand to catch the shower curtain, shoving it open and looking down at you.

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, surprised that he'd finished up so quickly. Your eyes lingered briefly on his thick thighs and up to his waist before darting to meet his gaze. You had heard the shower running when you'd stepped into his quarters and grabbed towels for him since he often tended to just step out nude and drip on the floor. Which was his right to do since it was his room, but it was annoying for you because you had to clean it up.

Still, despite all the times seeing him strutting around nude you weren't sure if you'd ever get used to the sight of him. All of the marines were built like brick walls. All the better to be the protection that the Emperor gave to Mankind of course. And there was definitely no reason for him to be ashamed when he looked like that. You supposed that if you were built like some of those noble women back on Macragge, you'd flaunt yourself too.

Trying to subdue the blush in your cheeks, you scooped up his dirty robes and tossed them in the laundry, turning around as you settled the basket on your hip and started out of the room.

"If you're finished, I'll grab you something clean to wear." You managed to get out before large hands grabbed you by the waist and shoulder, yanking you backwards.

The clothes went spilling across the floor and you couldn't help but stare at them for a moment, confused. You could feel a 'brick wall' at your back and insistent fingers kept you from moving away, going so far as to lift you off the ground so you didn't have any purchase to jerk away from him. Your heart pounded as he pressed his face to the nape of your neck and there was a soft shudder from him.

"You're cold." He spoke the words like it perplexed him.

Settling one hand on the one that was wrapped almost all the way around your waist, you could see why he thought so. Sicarius was burning up. Trying to pull away only ensured that his grip tightened that much more and he made a quiet whining noise that didn't match the mass of him. His nose nudged along your neck and up to your ear and you tried to lean away slightly. It was a silly thought but you didn't want to offend him with the scent of your perfume. But when he inhaled there, his fingers gently squeezed your waist and his lips parted against your neck, his breath hot on your skin and tongue sliding upwards.

"How are you so cool?" He huffed, his mouth moving against your neck and muffling his words slightly.

"I dont think I am, I think you're running hot." You fumbled out the words as his hands massaged your side and arm. He was insistent on keeping you as close as he could and you could feel the way he swelled and pressed against your lower back.

"No, it's you. It's all you." He groans out the words.

The depth of his voice combined with his lips leaving sparce kisses on your neck made your breasts feel heavier, your nipples tightened under the thin robes you wore. You didn't know what had gotten into him to make him so forward and you hated to think it had something to do with how hot he was running.

"M'Lord." Your voice was raspy as he started to suck near your collarbone, starting to rub against your back for relief. "I think you might have a virus."

"I'm fine." It wasn't the usual stubbornness you had gotten used to with the Knight Champion. It sounded almost petulant.

"You really need to talk to the Medicae."

"All I need is you."-There- was the stubbornness you were used to. Along with his broad hand spanning across your waist and sliding down.

Two fingers eased down to the apex of your thighs, his body leaning slightly so he could better ensure you didn't slip away from him as he changed his grip so he was cupping your sex and flexing his fingers. Curling them almost casually when he finally pulled his mouth away from your neck with a wet pop.

"I need you." He said it like it was something that was just now occurring to him.

His fingers were still flexing and pressing against your sex and your hand was overtop of his, trying to pull his hand away as you did your best to catch your breath. You had never expected the Knight Champion to make a pass at you, especially not so desperately. He was making soft noises at the back of his throat as he tried to separate the layers of your robe so he could reach your skin. Pressing down with your hand, your breath hitched as his finger managed to catch inside your robes where the clasps left a small openin and he groaned when he felt the inside of your thigh.

"Sir." Your head dropped down, in surprise, in excitment as he fumbled to pull at the clasps.

One of the metal pieces yanking off the fabric and falling to the floor with a quiet clinking sound before he stuffed his finger in and pressed his finger along your thigh. The fabric of your robes bunching as he moved up and rubbed across your sex again, breath quick against your neck.

You could feel him rutting against your back again and you blushed at the thought that he might spill across your robes and leave you with a stain that everyone would see.

That was about all that gave you the energy to slap his wrist and hiss at him, hoping that the small smart would snap him away from his eager push and pull against you.

"Sir! Put me down." You hoped that when he did your legs would be able to hold your weight.

Rather than setting you down right away, however, he started to walk over to his bed. The thing was as massive as he was. Plain, because he didn't believe in embellishments that weren't given to him in duty, it was simply huge and had moderate comfort to it. He set you down on the bed and you weren't sure if he meant to set you closer to the middle or if he simply forgot that you were so much smaller and it meant you'd have to crawl to get off of it.

His hands rested on either side of you and Cato looked down at you, his brow furrowed and hands reaching to undo your robes. Or more likely to rip the buttons and clasps apart if he was going to go at it like he had before. You grabbed his hands in your smaller ones, your heart squeezing as he used your busied hands to ensure he could lean in properly and kiss you.

It was awkward. Like he didn't have any practice with baselines, which you assumed was the truth. He was so much bigger that when his tongue thrust out to catch yours, it felt more like a wide slap of a warm wet piece of meat pushing against your lips.

His skin was hot to the touch and when you wormed one hand out of his grip to press against his chest, you stopped, realizing that all the wetness on his body seemed to have vanished.

"Sir, you need to see the medicae." You tried again to insist.

He grumbled then, an unhappy scowl as he pressed his face to your neck and pulled at the clasps on your robes.

"Sir, if you rip my robes, how am I supposed to go back to the serfs quarters afterwards?"

"Leave?" He said the word like it was offensive, pulled his head up to frown at the sheer idea that you might have to go away. "No, you're staying."

It was a ridiculous notion, of course. You couldn't just stay in his quarters, and you had half a mind to tell him so. But he was looming over you and he was touching again, attempting to kiss in that awkward way that you weren't sure how to respond to. His lips pressed against yours and you slid your hand up to his neck, pressing to try to push him back as you twisted your head again.

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

That seemed to give him a moment of pause and he breathed, looking down at you and blinking. His head dropped down to rest on the bed beside your own and you had to resist the urge to pet his hair and give him some sort of comfort. He was acting so far outside his norm, at least as far as you knew. He'd never had a personal serf before. Did he think that this was one reason why you were here? Was this why he had come down to the serfs quarters originally to pick someone out? Your heart sped up and you turned your head to look at him, seeing his eyes squeezed shut.

"Talk to me." You moved back a bit and weren't surprised at all when his hands automatically reached out to grasp you and pull you back.

"It's so hot." he said slowly. "And your skin is cool. You're soft and I just.. need."

"You need to ask." You frowned, your heart rate speeding up.

He looked at you stupidly and for a moment you weren't sure if he was going to be offended at the sheer idea of it or just be angry that you'd suggest that he wasn't eventually going to ask.

"Ask… for what?"

You blinked once and then again, staring at him. Cato looked flumoxed, like a child caught with his hands somewhere they shouldn't be. Which.. wasn't an inappropriate assessment given where he had been grabbing at earlier.

"You want to touch me?"

You wanted to laugh at the way he nodded, but the look in his eyes was more intense now and you could see his muscles bunching in preparation for a pounce. A hard feat considering he was already on top of you. Looking down between the length of your bodies, you tensed, seeing the hard thick length that bobbed between his thighs.

"And you want to kiss me?"

"Yes." His voice was thick and he pushed down, hands finding your sides and pressing in on you slightly, his thumbs sweeping along your ribs and then pausing as he pulls up again.

Laid out under him, you let him explore for a moment longer, enjoying that he was being softer now and slower.

"You're supposed to ask before you touch." You remind him quietly.

"Why…?" He murmured the word, his gaze hazy as he kissed you, fingers finding the clasps of your robe and fumbling them open.

You froze up as he pushed the fabric aside and started to inch back on the bed, just for him to follow you and start to press his weight down against you.

"You're mine, and I need you." He kissed your neck once more.

Your breath came a bit faster as you pushed him back and he started to move his lips from your neck to your clavicle and then down the valley of your breasts. The bra you were wearing wasn't one of your best ones, but you still didn't want it ruined if he decided to rip it and you settled your hands over his as he tugged one cup down low enough that he could capture your nipple and toy with it with his tongue and teeth. Each suckle and lick had you throbbing and your thighs pressed together as he enjoyed teasing your breasts. You had never been very sensitive there, but it had been a long while since someone had played with them. And his hands weren't entirely gentle, tugging and pulling at your body, his head shifting to spread his attention between both breasts and ensure your nipples were wet against the cooler air.

You were sure that you were supposed to be telling him no. His touching was inappropriate for a Knight to his serf and this could be seen as some sort of attempt to curry favors with the Astartes. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that a serf had gone on their back for an Astartes, even among the Ultramarines. But it was looked down on and you needed to keep your head about you. You didn't think that you would have had this problem with Cato because he'd previously seemed oblivious to you and that hadn't bothered you at all.

But now his length was pressing against your inner thigh and he was rubbing up, pressing the blunt head of his cock to your panties as he feverishly touched you.

"Wait, wait wait." You patted his chest, whining as he pulled up and didnt release your nipple until what felt like the last moment. The wet sound of his mouth coming away making your pussy clench. "The uh… the Codex Astartes. Isn't there a rule against fraternizing?"

"No." He mumbled as he kissed his way down your belly next.

"Well then remind me what it does say about how serfs and Astartes are supposed to behave around each other?" You curled your fingers in his hair.

"No." He murmured against the fabric of your underthings before peeling them down and shoving them out of the way where he'd tossed your robes.

His hands were almost too warm as he pulled your thighs apart and upwards, settling himself between them and kissing the inside of your thigh before licking and sucking the sensitive skin that was close to your groin. Your fingers were still laced in his hair but you weren't pulling him away anymore. Your nails scrapped through his short hair and tugged upwards when he found your clit. His thick fingers parting your lips and sliding up and down the seam of your cunt before pressing one in.

"You feel so cool in here." He licked his lips, the motion sliding across your clit and making you jolt.

"No, you're running hot." You manage to gasp as he slowly eases his finger in and out at a surprisingly gentle pace. Your hips rock slowly with him, all thoughts of trying to talk him down from this flown out of your head as just his finger is filling you up more than you were used to.

It was hard to get real privacy in the serfs quarters. The closest you might get was in the showers at times, and even though there was just a curtain and a simple wall that didn't reach all the way to the floor. You couldn't think of the last time you'd been able to just lay back and rub one out. Your eyes rolled back as he insistently prodded and pumped inside you, only occasionally touching your clit to make you whine. For a man that didn't seem to know what he was doing, he learned quickly.

"Make sure it's wet or it'll hurt to put it in." You gasped when he tried to nudge in another finger dry.

You could feel the hesitation and then there was a slurping sound when he pulled his hand away. Looking down, you saw that he was sucking his fingers with a stern expression on his face. His gaze flicked up to yours as he slid two in this time, wetter than before and fulfilling in a way that had your jaw dropping. Your breath came quick as he shifted his hand and curled his fingers, pushing upwards. Wincing, your hand came down to push his wrist away and you whimpered as you shook your head.

"How do I do this?"

"Not so hard." You couldn't help the blush and bit your lip as he eased his fingers in slow once more. "There. Just like that, can you do that with your fingers again? How you curled—"

His movements were quick in response to your question and you gripped his wrist, this time to hold him still as your back arched. Your jaw dropped and he came closer to kiss your thigh and lick his way towards your apex again, getting you wetter and making you groan as the sound of the slickness became more obvious. His lips hovered close to your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it and stroking it softly at first to see how you reacted. Little groans and grinding upward made him smirk, you could practically feel it against your pelvis.

"Be careful, that's sensitive." You whined softly when he nudged it a few more times, making your hips rock with him.

He grunted quietly before bringing his lips higher up and kissing your belly instead. It was almost a relief not to have him focus so much there, knowing how quickly you'd end up coming if he kept that up. His fingers were still deep inside you and you were getting used to the slow pace. Your hands shifting up to his biceps and squeezing, feeling curiously for the ports where his armor was held to him. With a wiggle you got a hand under you and fidgeted with the closure of your bra, unclipping it and sending it off to the side so the tightness wouldn't pull at your chest or get in the way.

The motion grabbed his attention and his head snapped up, reminding you again of the predator that he was. Your heart beat slammed in your chest and he grunted, shifting up and pulling his fingers out of you so he could grasp your chest. Your breasts were already warm and slightly damp from where he had been sucking on them earlier and you ran your fingers in his hair as he hungrily kissed your skin.

"I don't know what's so interesting about my tits." You murmured, only to moan when Cato pulled on one nipple and twisted it lightly, pinching it softly and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the nub like he was eager to see if milk would come out.

"Like how you sound when I do this." He grunted and continued the somewhat soft kisses.

You had mostly kept your hands in his hair up until now, occasionally touching muscle or guiding his hand when he was too fast. Looking down between you, at the length that stood so impossibly tall between his thighs, you reached down and brushed your fingers across the head.

His reaction was instant, his hips snapping forward and hand gripping harder. Yelping in pain, you grit your teeth, looking up at him. Cato looked lost for a moment and then worried as he stared at your poor abused breast. He kissed it softly, apologetically, something you'd never expected from him. His tongue stroked the soft flesh and you pushed him up with one hand to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt you as you guided your palm across his cock.

His thighs were shaking as he pushed his weight down into your grip, hips pumping a slow rhythm with you. Looking up at him, you saw that his jaw had dropped and his eyes rolled back. Your hand shifted a bit to hold him firmly, fingers flexing in a delicate wave that worked him from base upwards in a slow stroke and he grit his teeth, his breath coming fast.

"Yes, yes, that's what I need." He gasped then and you froze up as he turned his gaze on you.

His eyes darted from your breasts to your mouth and then low to your cunt and you felt yourself clenching up in response. Nervous or excited, you weren't quite sure which was stronger as he rocked his hips and pushed his cock close to your sex. He wasn't even using his hand to guide it in, just doing his best to hold himself still above you and nudge it a little at a time. He licked his lips and groaned as your fingers squeezed his cock.

"Let go." He ordered, one hand coming down to grip your thigh, holding it up and holding you open.

"Sir—"

"Let go." His voice was more like a growl this time and you froze up, fingers shaking as you did as you were told.

His jaw trembled a bit as he continued to nudge inwards a little at a time. The fat head of his cock pushing up across your cunt and finding the wetness he'd created when he fingered you. You could see that acknowledgement in his eyes as the tip pressed in a little at a time. He made you wet, he made you like this and you were his. You weren't sure at first when he adjusted how he sat and started the slow press, your brow furrowed as you looked up at him. He was a giant, felt like a monster inside you. Like a meteor come to life.

And like a meteor, you felt yourself being pulled along as he descended, his hips moving automatically and teeth gritting as he pumped in and made himself at home inside you. The stretch was more than you were ever used to, more than you could handle and you held onto his arms as he continued to shove himself in with small measured pumps. He held onto you with one hand on your hip and one on your thigh and looked down on you, his breath coming faster.

"Do you need to be wetter?" He questioned.

"Uh… uh huh." You nodded quickly and whimpered when he pulled out, leaving you open and empty.

You could see his hand shaking as he spit into it. Quick slick that gathered in his palm and he hurriedly slathered on himself. He looked like he wanted to rush back right away but hesitated, adding more spit before yanking you in closer and bending himself over you as he pushed in.

You couldn't help but groan, then whimper as he continued to stretch you and your leg shook, curling around his waist when he was close enough. You could hear a soft curse coming from him and his weight came down, arm braced on one side of you while the other stayed on your thigh so he could move you how he needed. He was fucking into you at a pace that was too slow for him and it showed in how he panted and bared his teeth, impatient for you to loosen up around his cock. His weight came down in each slow, steady thrust and he rested his head against the mattress next to yours. His breath quick in your ear and his voice low as he tried to get as close to you as both your bodies could allow.

There was a soft whine in the back of his throat and you reached up to feel along the steel like strength of his shoulders. Felt the minute twitch of muscles when he shifted his weight to make sure he wasn't putting all his weight on you, but you could still feel yourself coming apart at the seams, pushed to your limits and thighs burning to hold him. A flurry of panic clenched in your gut when he started to murmur the word 'mine' to you, quiet grunts that got louder the more he continued. A panic that receded when you looked up at him and saw his jaw dropped down and eyes rolled back.

The bed was more than big enough for you both, but he was curled tightly close to you, his thrusts a bit awkward as he tried to simply get in deep without thinking more of it. He was like an animal, rutting and whining, begging under his breath and demanding for more when he managed to get his knees under him to make the thrusts longer and firmer. You could already feel the bruises starting and groaned, digging your nails into his shoulders and moving with him slowly, your body protesting the movements at first.

"Slow.. down." You hissed, rather surprised when he did so, his eyes turning to you even as he continued the less harried pace. Feeling the more subdued drag of his cock inside you, your head fell back and you sighed, nodding. "Like that. I'm not going anywhere."

You felt him move inside of you, gasping as he adjusted so he could put both hands on the mattress now, pushing down with each thrust at first until you winced and he adjusted the angle. His fingers gripped the sheets and pulled, and you could hear the popping of seams. Drawing your hands up from his shoulders to his neck, you pulled yourself up and kissed him, somewhat awkward as you tried to show him how to restrain himself and he kept overwhelming you. His voice was a tumble of rocks, a low build up of sound that reverberated in your chest and worked down into your stomach from how close you were. Each curl of his hips making you arch off the bed and your hips ached, he kept kissing you like he couldn't get enough. This close to him you could see his lip curl as he sped up little by little and you hung onto him, your body almost bouncing off the bed from the force he was putting into it.

Each beat of your heart made you rise a little closer to him, the pleasure pushing away the sensation of it being too much and your cunt squeezing down on him eagerly. The first notes of need in you being answered by his own heated harmony and he buried his face against your neck, snarling your name as he struggled to move a hand down and grab you by the waist, yanking you into each thrust. You could feel the ripple of the head of his cock moving deeper inside you and whined as he came closer, your soft curves rocking against his hard muscles, the sweat on his body barely there for a moment before dissipating in his own heat. He huffed as he rushed his hips forward, his voice a jagged sound of need that might have been your name.

You hissed as he rocked forward firmly, you could practically feel his length moving from the base to the tip when he released inside you. The heat warming you from the inside, your belly starting to swell from the sheer amount he'd loosed inside you. Looking down, your eyes widened and he groaned, his movements slowing slightly. But his hips didn't stop rocking, like he was still trying to chase that high and he still had energy to burn. A gasp pulled from you as he licked your shoulder and up your neck. Astartes had so much energy and you had no idea just what their sex drive was like. Or at least you didn't before tonight.

Taking his hand, you led it down between your thighs, looking up at him as you guided his thumb to your clit and showed him how much pressure to use, wincing when it was too much and whispering for him to pull back. Cato licked his lips, sitting back so your hips were raised up in his lap as he continued his slow movements. His eyes dark as he watched you in fascination. His thumb moving with a gentle precision that slowed down almost too soon. You looked up and tried to see just where he was staring at you, following the line of his eyes to the bruises that were forming on your hips where he'd grabbed you earlier.

"You can't use too much pressure." You whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek, feeling him lean down into you to accept the softness. "You can do it. You're the best, right?"

Nervousness flickered in your chest when he bared his teeth, but it was only a wicked smile he gave you. He kissed from your lips up to your forehead, his thumb brushing softly, like he was strumming a harp and you were giving him the most beautiful sounds. Between his hushed huffing and your quiet moans was the wet sound of his cock stretching you wide open and you kept your hand over his, squeezing occasionally as your hips twitched upwards involuntarily. Your vision filled with him as he looked down at you in satisfaction and a need to learn every part of you, pulling you to a lazy peak and kissing you as your cunt squeezed him.

"Are you still hot?" You groaned, unable to tell the difference between the heat in both of your bodies.

"Not as much. It's better now." Cato grumbled, slowly grinding his hips against you.

"Promise you'll see the medicae after?"

"When I'm done." He shook his head, his eyes dark, his fingers clever and light against your skin.

You supposed it could wait a little longer.

[thepersonnamedsam]

hello! i was hoping I could request something between gen z reader x the grid where she gets an anxiety attack or gets really anxious during press and how they would react or try to help her, could be due to something about the race or personal, love uuu<3

you’re gonna go far

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: social anxiety and social stuff don’t mix very well

word count: 2.3k

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, sexist comments

note: hiya!! yk i love your requests!! thank u <3

i have social anxiety myself, it’s written from my perspective - anxiety is experienced very different, pls remember that! and pls respect anyone who is experiencing anxiety or any mental disorder that is!

masterlist / taglist

We ain’t angry at you, love, you’re the greatest thing we‘ve lost.

The song blasted through her ears, tears started forming in her eyes. She missed home, so, so much. She felt guilty to leave all her friends and family at home to pursue her dreams. And this song, written by the brilliant Noah Kahan, just always made her cry and think about her hometown.

Well, maybe not always, mostly the days her anxiety sparks up - and today was one of those days. Usually media didn’t stress her out, but today was different. Her mood shifted and hyper sensitive, overstimulated and overwhelmed. And she usually had someone she trusted by her side at media, but not today. Today was just shit.

Paired with Lance, Kevin, Sergio and Niko, she just wished the day would be over. She was just glad that Daniel, Max, Oscar and Lewis would be after her, they would maybe wait for them to finish, so she could see them.

She was trying to help her calm down. Thinking about good possibilities and not bad ones. Not about how she would sit stiff and uncomfortable between Lance and Sergio. Or how she and Niko never really got along. Or how she couldn’t seek refuge in a known face. Or how she had to answer all the questions by herself and not have Max there to defend her and be her bodyguard. 

And she was doing it again.

What was she gonna do? Breath, just breath - that’s what she told herself. She was in desperate need for a break. She knew what she was getting herself into, but it was still so very much. She was glad that Hungary was the second last race before the summer pause. She would go home, maybe vacation a bit, but definitely head home and see her friends and family.

Her feet dragged her through the media pit against her will. She didn’t want to go there, she just wanted to curl up in her bed with a good book and some music. Her headphones still present on her head, at least she had her music.

She was so focused on the words of You’re gonna go far that she didn’t see Lance in her peripheral vision. He patted her on her back and she flinched as he passed her. He gave her a funny look as she just gave him a shy smile.

She sighed, she didn’t know how she could face this day. She wished she had Lewis or Max or Danny by her side, someone to lean on, someone who would protect her and help her out. But she was all alone in this world right now. That’s what she thought at least.

Sat next to her was Kevin and Sergio. Her leg was bouncing, her fingers couldn’t stop picking at her nails. Her breathing was fast. She knew that things would turn out bad pretty fast. She just knew it.

„So, the next question is for y/n. Seeing as you’re the only woman on the grid, do you feel intimidated by all of the men or do you actually like the challenge?“

Her mind raced. What? She wished for Max who would give a sassy comeback or for Lewis to out the comment as borderline sexist. Or just anyone to stand up for her at that moment, but no one did.

„Uh, thank you for your question. Uhm, I am not the only woman on the grid. There are lots of women working behind the scenes - mechanics, engineers, catering, strategists, everything. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t feel intimidated, because I know that I come from a powerful gender.“

Her answer was clip and clear, not even her voice was shaking, which she half expected to. But the interviewer grew visibly irritated.

„Can you go into it a bit more? Or could you please comment on the statement Christian Horner did? Here, I’ll refresh your mind: F1 is bringing in a young generation. It’s bringing in a lot of young girls because of all these great-looking young drivers.“

What had that to do with his question beforehand? Horner made that statement a longer time ago?

„Uhm yes, obviously we all know Christian by now, don’t we?“, she nervously laughed. „But uhm, he is obviously still wrong, like I originally commented when he first made that statement“ Her eyes were searching for something or someone familiar, but she couldn’t. Her vision occupied by interviewers and flashing cameras.

Her breath started to get faster, She tried to breath through her nose, not make it too obvious that she was having a moment. This would make headlines. Female driver gets anxiety attack whilst commenting on sexist statements.

Why wasn’t Lewis there? He knew what to do. He had caught her like this before - breathing rapid, fists clenched and fingers white. Eyes not focusing on anything particular and her chest heaving up and down from all her heavy breathing.

It was after she had found out that people were speculating about her - specifically that she had to sleep with her or any team principal to get her seat in F1. Her head was leaned against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest and her body was rocking back and forth.

„y/n, y/n, listen, look at me. Listen to me, can you please look at me, love?“, he pleaded. And when she finally did, Lewis let out a breath of relief. „Okay, look at me, darling, and follow my breathing, yes? It’s easy, you can do it, I believe in you.“

He grabbed her hands and put them to his own chest, so she could feel his breathing. Feel his calm heartbeat, even though he felt anything opposite calm. He looked her deep into her eyes and tried to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

„You’re gonna go far, y/n, listen to me, I know it, you’re gonna make it far.“

Her breathing had normalised and the tears stuck in her eyes, finally flowed down her cheeks. The soon turned into full on sobs and the older driver hugged the younger one. Embracing her and reassuring her, that none of the drivers would have believed the tabloids - they’ve seen her driving and know very well why she got offered her seat in F1.

She had thanked him about a thousand times and made him promise not to ever tell anyone. But if somebody else knew, maybe they could’ve helped her in this situation.

But luckily for y/n, this was all broadcast live, well, maybe not for her per se, because she knew about too many people were watching her lose herself on live television and her PR manager couldn’t just pull some magic strings to not have this air, but what she didn’t know was, that Seb was watching - her specifically.

And he did the only reasonable thing he could do, he called Lewis.

„Hey dude, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a long time. How’s retirement treating you?“ Lewis had a lot of questions for the German. The later laughed a bit, but turned serious pretty quickly. „Listen, I’m watching the pre-race interviews right now-“ Lewis interrupted him: „Yeah? I’m on next, you should definitely wait and see me on TV then.“

„Yeah that’s great Lew, but y/n is on right now. I think- no I’m pretty sure she’s having an anxiety attack on live television.“

Lewis was silent for a moment. „She is having what?“ - „An anxiety attack, you know what that is? It’s, uhm, when you get too overwhelmed and your psyche tells you that you’re experiencing immense fear at the moment and“, Lewis was tuning him out.

She was having an anxiety attack? Right now? During the pre-race interview? He had to help her.

„I’m on my way, thanks Seb“, and he hung up. He had to get there as fast as he could. Sprinting through the entire paddock to the media pin. On the way he almost crashed into Max, who was also making his way to the pin, Daniel by his side. The only looked at Lewis weird but soon we’re running with him, as he shouted: „It’s y/n!“

They arrived but no one wanted to let them in: „It’s not your turn yet, they’re still going. You have to wait until it’s your turn, you’ll be on in 10.“

„Listen, y/n, if you’re reacting this way to my question, you’re clearly not made for this sport, maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there.“

„And you’re clearly not made to interviews, asshole!“

All of them heard, the viewers heard, the drivers heard, the interviewers heard, but y/n was the only one who didn’t hear it.

Maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there. That was all she could hear. At least you’d look pretty there.

The other drives next to y/n didn’t know what to do. Their colleague was definitely having a though time, but they didn’t know how to help, they opted to just tilt their heads towards the floor and look just as uncomfortable as everyone in the room did - but no one stood up for her, expect Max.

„Maybe you should just fucking leave this pit before I will bash your disgusting face. Maybe you should scramble and flee. Maybe you should eat your on dick as you seem to like to put tiny and degrading things in your mouth. Maybe-“, Daniel stopped him, Max has said enough and made his point.

Lewis was already making his way up to her. Scooping her up and carrying her out of the pit.

At least you’d look pretty.

The sentence was going through her head like a loop, like a vinyl that’s broken and repeats all the worst parts. She felt like a broken record - cracked and well, broken.

„She‘s hyperventilating“, Danial pointed out. „Yeah no shit, sherlock.“ - „Max, let’s just focus on her right now, okay?“, the seven time world champion told the two time world champion. „Who’s garage is the nearest?“, Lewis asked into the round. „The Ferrari one is the first one on the grid“, Daniel said. „Let’s go then.“

Daniel led the way, fetching Lando on the way, she’d appreciate the support from the youngster. Even though he complained a lot to Danny.

„Don’t look, don’t look, we’re just passing through“, Daniel said as he tried to shield her and Lewis from all the cameras in the Ferrari garage. „What are you guys doing here?“, Carlos questioned, but as soon as he saw the crying mess in Lewis‘ arms he helped Daniel shield y/n. Carlos led them to Charles‘ side of the garage, as he had his closed off for anyone from the outside.

„What’s going on?“, a confused Charles asked the group now standing in his garage. „Charles, we need to go somewhere quiet, is that possible?“, Lewis asked the Ferrari driver. He nodded and led them to his drivers room, even though it was pretty tiny and probably wouldn’t fit all of them in it.

They set y/n on his sofa and Lewis was hovering in front of her. Lando sat on her right side, while Max was on her left. He took her hand in his, squeezing it, so she knew that he was there. „Hey y/n look at me. We’re in Charles‘ drivers room, in the Ferrari garage. Away from the media pit, okay? You’re safe with us now“, Lewis told her. „Breath with us.“

„In and out, just like that, darling, follow Lewis‘ breathing“, Daniel complimented y/n. „You’re doing great, shatje. So, so great. We’re all so proud of you.“

„You can let it all out, we won’t judge you“, Charles told her and just as he did, the dam broke. Her tears fell down onto her knees, she sobbed uncontrollably. She leaned her head on Landos shoulder and he pulled her close into his side. „You’re doing so well, love.“ - „Just keep breathing, don’t forget to breath“, Carlos told her. He was standing in the doorway with Charles, acting as bodyguards.

Danny walked around the room, trying to find something for y/n to drink out of. „Hey Charles, do you have some water or a bottle?“ The driver clad in red reacted fast and brought the Australian a tall glass of water. He brought y/n the glass and she had to stop crying to drink. Afterwards she got the hiccups. „There, there love, everything’s okay“, Lewis took her glass and patted her knee. „Remember what I told you? You’re gonna go far, okay? Don’t let that prick tell you otherwise.“

„At least you’d look pretty there.“

„Huh?“, the room asked, as she mumbled the sentence.

„At least you’d look pretty there. That’s what he said“, she looked up from her seat, to the room full of supporting people. „At least you’d look pretty.“

Max was so angry again, he could’ve killed that man, if it wasn’t for Daniel holding him back. „I am going to kill that man“, Max growled. y/n giggled: „Maxie, don’t, he doesn’t deserve death. He deserves to live a long, pitiful life.“

„We’re glad you’re laughing again, y/n“, Charles said. „Yes, very much so.“ Everyone agreed with Charles. „I love you guys, but how’d you even know that I was having a tough time?“, y/n asked confused. Lewis had to laugh: „Seb called me. Said he saw you on the TV all riled up and ready to cry and that I should already be on my way to help you, but I talked over him the whole time“ He scratched his neck and y/n laughed a loud belly laugh. „That’s so typical!“

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee

[its-luna-noel]

biting | gojo x reader

gojo constantly drawing attention finally gets on your nerves

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, smut, biting, love bites & hickeys, possessive reader

word count: 1.0k

part 11/31 prev. chapter | next chapter

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hope you enjoy!

You know your boyfriend is hot, but was it too much to ask for people not to flirt with him, just for your birthday?

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Satoru’s car, deathly silent. The city passes by outside, and you stare out the window and watch, the interior of the car frigid with the cold shoulder you’re giving him.

Once again, he tentatively tries to speak, “Baby…”

You interrupt him. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nuh uh.”

He sighs, long fingers flexing around the steering wheel, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you like to take your time to cool down, to simmer before starting a fight. He knows you just need a few minutes to think through what you wanna say.

But that doesn’t make it any less frustrating to drive you home.

He tried to make your day special. He made a reservation at a fancy restaurant you wanted to try, took you to buy a brand new dress, treated you like the queen you are, and still, it somehow ended like this.

The rest of the drive is quiet, until he kills the engine in the garage. You don’t even let him open your door like he usually does; you just get out and walk inside, and you hear him sigh behind you as you leave him behind.

You do feel a little bad. You know you’re being unfair. But, for now, you’re too upset to change it.

You walk to the living room and plop down on one end of the couch, eyes still averted as Satoru follows you, coming to sit on the other end. He gives you space and silence to process your own emotions, and even though you can tell he’s concerned, frustrated, and disappointed with how tonight went, he doesn’t complain even once.

That just makes you feel worse.

Finally, when your bruised ego has healed a little, you huff and crawl forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder. Still not looking up at him.

He gives you a second to settle in. Then he, very gently, takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns your head to face him. His bright eyes are soft. “Talk to me, baby.”

You sigh and look down. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it makes you this upset. Just tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”

“It is stupid,” you insist.

He just frowns at you.

You sigh again, and wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling close. You grumble softly, “I hate seeing all those girls flirting with you.”

“What?”

You growl quietly; you know he notices it, too. Men, women, and everyone in between want him. Stare at him like he’s already theirs. Stare at you like you’re not worthy of him. You kiss his neck, starting all the way up by his ear and trailing your lips lower and lower. “They watch you. They want you. It pisses me off.”

“Baby, you know I–”

You cut him off. “Yeah, I know. You only want me. That doesn’t mean I like watching them.”

He opens his mouth to continue speaking, but before he can, your lips part, and your teeth sink brutally into his throat, right over his pulse point. He gasps in surprise at the sensation, his hands moving back to grip your ass, squeezing and pulling you close as your teeth dig into his flesh, leaving deep imprints there.

“I hate seeing it,” you admit, trying not to sound vulnerable as you brush your tongue over the red marks left by your teeth. “It makes me so mad. Knowing they want to take you from me.”

“Baby, I–”

You cut him off again with another bite, this one a little lower down, where his neck meets his shoulder. His voice stutters, and he lets out a soft moan, his head tilting back against the couch.

This time, as you bite, you hollow your cheeks and suck harshly on the skin, and Satoru gasps again, his hips inadvertently bucking up at the painful, pleasurable sensation. You leave a deep red mark, which will surely be a blotchy purple bruise in the morning. Your tongue flicks over the mark, soothing the pain with the warmth of your mouth.

“I want you to be all mine,” you growl against his throat.

“I am all yours, sweet girl.” His voice is rough with arousal, though he’s trying to hide it as he comforts you. “Only yours.”

“Then let me show them. Let me mark you up.”

And so he does. He sits patiently as you bite and suck dark hickeys into his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Your possession of him is made clear with every bruise you leave, and all he does is hold your hips, letting you continue until you’re content. Until your anger and frustration finally burn away, leaving nothing but love and care for him.

Finally, you lean into him again, hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Better?” he asks, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You nod. Your voice is quiet when you speak. “Sorry for being a brat.”

He chuckles a little, one hand gently rubbing your back in small circles. “It’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

“You didn’t ruin it, baby.” He pulls away to look at you, gently cupping your cheek. “We’re okay, alright? Everything’s fine.”

“Even though I got all mad?”

He nods. “Even then.” He grins a little, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, watching you get all possessive is kind of hot.”

You huff a laugh and gently push his shoulder, fighting a smile. Trailing your eyes over all the marks you left.

Your marks.

Finally, he looks like he belongs to you.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next

[bybobbysbeard]

Fine Gold

Day 11 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: double date read on ao3 read other days here

Karen gestures expansively, her horribly bright cocktail sloshing dangerously. “So I said, the rotational energy is going to overcome the momentum and you’re not going to land where you’re expecting to. And he laughed at me. Like, what, I developed the thrusters so I don’t understand how a gyroscopic inertial works? It was my trajectory he was screwing up!” She smacks the table with her free hand. The little skewer of pineapple in her drink wobbles around the glass. “It was infuriating!” 

Tommy laughs, tipping his head back to hit the padded booth.

“Tommy! Stop laughing at me! I need another mechanically-inclined mind at this table. Buck’s too ADHD to hold a scientific conversation when he’s drinking and I can literally see my wife’s eyes glazing over.” She flaps a hand at Hen, slouched against her and watching the dancefloor.

Hen waves her nearly empty beer glass in Karen’s face. “Hey now, I am plenty scientific. Just not about aerospace engineering.”

“Yeah, cut your wife some slack Karen, it’s not like she’s a doctor or anything.”

Hen gasps, mock offended. “Et tu, Brute? The betrayal. And after I invited you and Buck out to our favorite bar.” She grabs for the pineapple skewer, dodging Karen’s block and biting off a chunk spitefully. She takes a sip of her beer and makes a face.

He laughs again. “Bet that tasted great.”

“Oh shut-up Kinard. I thought spending more time with Buck was supposed to make you less of an asshole. Where’s your better-half gone anyways?”

Tommy leans forward, trying to see the bar. “I’m not sure, I thought he was getting another pitcher. I can’t see him from here.” He’s just about to get to his feet when Karen pipes up.

“Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? What’s ‘uh oh’?”

Hen follows Karen’s gaze and sighs, heartfelt. “Your boy’s dazzling the regulars again.”

“For the love of God… excuse me.” He clambers to his feet, draining the last of his beer, and turning towards the bar. Hen’s right. Evan’s holding court, animatedly describing something with one hand while he holds the requested pitcher of beer in the other. At least four people of various genders are pressed close around him, a snapshot of Sweetwaters’ eclectic clientele.

This is the third time this has happened tonight. Evan is a natural flirt, moreso when he’s not even trying. Add in the fact that he’s glowing with happiness, and a little bit drunk, and he’s basically irresistible. Like a 6’2” puppy. Tommy can’t really blame them for getting sucked into Evan’s orbit. Hell, it happens to him everyday. It doesn't hurt that his boyfriend looks phenomenal, lit by the glow of hundreds of string lights hanging above the bar. Of course, Evan always looks good, even half-asleep and covered in drool, or after a 48 and covered in soot, but there’s something special tonight. 

His pastel-blue button-up shows off his tanned arms and his dark slacks fit his incredible legs, incredibly well. The white sneakers were a choice, but Tommy can admit they work with the look. Two pitchers of beer have left a light flush on his cheeks, and his curls have passed artfully tousled to nearly reach sex-hair levels of chaos. His lips are pink, pink, pink, spread around a wide grin and he’s making devastating eye contact with his audience. He makes some motion, probably reenacting a rescue, and throws his arm up above his head. Even from here, Tommy can see his cuffed sleeve straining at the seam. 

One of the women actually swoons back half a step. Okay, this is getting ridiculous.  

There’s a gold chain hanging loosely around Evan’s neck. It rests just below the hollow of his throat. The lights from the bar catch it and throw little caustics up against the smooth skin of his jaw. A heavily tattooed man at the bar, tall and lean with glossy waves of blond hair, leans forward. He rests a proprietary hand on Evan’s forearm and smiles charmingly. Evan looks startled, but still happy, glancing down at the hand on his arm. 

Possessiveness churns in Tommy’s stomach.

Three hours ago Evan had sat, completely naked and still damp from the shower, on the foot of their bed. He had sighed and pouted, and complained they were going to be late, but Tommy had been adamant. He knew the bar they were going to, and he was self-aware enough to know how tonight was probably going to go for him.

He hadn’t been joking all those months ago when he told Evan he could get jealous too. 

So, sue him. He wanted a visible claim on Evan. Not a hickey, though he was sure he was going to be leaving those on the delicate skin of Evan’s neck before the night was over. But something subtler. Something he could look at when he saw other men fawning over his boyfriend, trying to catch Evan’s attention, wanting him. Something to remind himself the only one Evan wanted was Tommy. 

Evan had perked up when he opened the slim, blue velvet box, and had audibly gasped when he dangled the fine gold chain in front of him. He had ducked his head when Tommy stepped close, carefully draping it around his neck and fastening it, before spinning the clasp to the back. He had hummed, watching as Evan’s eyes drifted closed as his fingers danced over the chain. One hand had gone to Evan’s jaw, tipping his head up and to the side so Tommy could see the gold against his skin. He had traced the cool metal with his fingers, over and over again until it was warm from their shared body heat and Evan was squirming and straining against him. Then, he patted his boyfriend on the cheek, and told him to get dressed or they really would be late. 

Evan had swore at him, and threw a pair of balled up socks at his head.

Tommy was paying for his earlier teasing now. He’s not sure how much is Evan getting his revenge, and how much is just his naturally adorable self. His boyfriend can sometimes come across as guileless about social cues, but he’s got a bratty streak a mile wide. Either way, Tommy is suffering. Hen had taken one look at his face the first time Evan had gotten ‘distracted’ by someone at the bar, and nearly laughed herself sick. 

Tommy walks up as the tattooed guy sways even more into Evan’s space, letting go of his arm to get a phone out. Evan is nodding at something he’s saying, but his eyes trip over to Tommy when he gets close enough. There’s a light there, catching in his blue eyes; some sparkling mischief that lets Tommy know that this encounter, at least, is Evan playing with him. The stranger’s eyes also move over to him, and he leans back on his stool, clutching his phone and straightening up. He gives Tommy a slow once over. Brown eyes dart between the two of them.

Tommy lays a hand on the small of Evan’s back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the rounded muscle of his shoulder. “Was wondering where you got to with the beer, baby.”

“Oh sorry, I was just talking tattoos with Jordan here.” Evan turns his head towards Tommy, close enough to kiss but not reaching out. His eyes drift down to his lips.

“Is that so?” He murmurs into the space between them. His eyes flick back up to ‘Jordan’ and he lets his expression go flat.

Jordan straightens even further. He looks kind of bizarre, perched on a bar stool with his back ramrod straight. When he speaks, his voice is loud, blusterous. “Yeah man, Buck’s got some nice ink.” And then, more confrontational, “What about you?”

Tommy turns to face him, lips curling up into a smirk. “No tattoos here. I’m more into piercings.”

He can hear Evan gulp beside him. 

Jordan’s nostrils flare. Tommy smirks wider, letting his teeth show. Evan squeaks out some excuse, turning away from the bar and hugging the pitcher of beer to his chest. He flutters his free hand over Tommy’s back as he herds him back towards the table. Over his shoulder he throws a distracted, “Nice to meet you.”

Tommy chuckles as Evan harries him, Hen and Karen looking up as they get close. Evan’s blushing, making his blue eyes stand out even more. He thumps the pitcher down, sitting down and scooching into the back of the semi-circle bench seat, looking up fervently at Tommy. He sits down too, laying a hand heavily on Evan’s thigh. Hen’s shaking her head as she pours herself another beer, and Karen slurps noisily at her straw.

“I expect this kind of behaviour from you, Buck, but Tommy, if you get us kicked out I will never forgive you.”

“No harm done, Evan was just making friends.” He slides his hand higher on Evan’s thigh just to see him freeze and choke on a breath, before trying to hide it behind his empty beer glass. Hen rolls her eyes and takes a long drink of her beer. 

Karen giggles at them, fishing the last ice cube out of her glass and crunching it, with obvious satisfaction. The music changes, something poppy and upbeat, and a cheer goes up from the dancefloor. “Ooh!” She grabs Hen’s hand. “Let’s dance! You guys coming?” She looks at Buck for an answer. 

“I–I’m okay right now.” He looks to Tommy, who shakes his head, lifting his palm off of Evan’s thigh and reaching for the pitcher. “We can watch your stuff though.”

She pins him with a knowing look and his blush darkens. Hen and Karen shuffle out of their side of the booth and step away, melting into the swarming crowd. Tommy pours them both fresh beers and takes a long sip. The song swells. The lights change too, dimming around the tables and strobing pink and purple over the dancefloor. Tommy slips a hand around Evan’s waist and pulls him close. He brushes a kiss over a smooth cheek and Evan melts against him.

“Were you trying to make me jealous, sweetheart?” He speaks right into Evan’s ear, staying close to be heard over the music.

Evan nods, breathlessly, and turns until his cheek brushes Tommy’s and he can feel hot breath on his ear. “Yeah, I m–mean, yes. Yes, I was.”

Tommy hums curiously. “How’d that work out for you?”

Evan groans. “God, you’re so hot. When you’re jealous, when you’re being a bitch, when you’re laughing at me.” He swallows, and a hand drifts to Tommy’s chest, fiddling with the buttons of his black shirt. “Can we get out of here?”

Tommy doesn’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to the side of Evan’s neck. The hand on his chest wanders higher, warm fingers reaching his collar and brushing across bare skin. He bites down on a tendon, lightly, and Evan makes a sweet little noise. Tommy worries at it with his teeth until Evan squirms, his other hand sliding up to Tommy's neck. He hauls his boyfriend closer by the arm around his waist, his other hand landing on the sticky table top. Shaky fingers drift over the bolt of his jaw and find an earlobe, tracing over the thick silver hoops he's wearing. 

The hand on his chest turns purposeful. Evan unerringly finds his nipple through the two shirts he’s got on, searching for one of the little barbells he recently started wearing again. It’s not surprising behavior; Evan’s obsessed with his piercings. He tugs on the metal bar, twists it carefully. Heat pools in Tommy’s belly. 

He licks the abused skin under his mouth, pressing another light kiss to the blooming bruise before backing off. Evan’s hands on his body keep him close, but it's far enough. His boyfriend looks debauched. His eyes are blown black, a thin ring of blue around big, fat pupils. His mouth is red and open, an indent in his lower lip from where he was biting to keep quiet. 

Tommy grabs his glass and takes a deep drink. He sets it down with a sound that he can’t hear over the pounding music and Evan’s heavy breaths. His hand is damp with condensation. He loops a finger through the fine gold chain around Evan’s neck and gives it a gentle tug. He bites his lip again, half muffling the little moan that tries to escape. Blue eyes are fixed on Tommy. 

“Let me finish my beer, and then we’ll say goodbye.”

[princesscolumbia]

Star Trek Captains, A Review and Categorization

Star Trek is a show about a Neo-military organization that has rank structures, ships, and fights wars, so naturally there's plenty of captains to talk about, but for this post I'll be highlighting specifically the main cast captains, in something resembling chronological order. (But, I mean, this is Star Trek, so even that's kinda up in the air)

Captain Archer

That Guy who had to hand crank the warp engine up-hill both ways in the blinding ion storm. We don't need no stinkin' Prime Directive! Remember The Alamo Pearl Harbor 9/11 Florida! But...uh, maybe don't be dicks about it, not everyone who looks like the ones responsible for that thing we're never going to forget actually wants us dead. Got transformed into an alien, got possessed by another alien, slept with a couple more. Never got pregnant, though (that was his chief engineer)

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Wars started: 0

Wars ended: 3

Times on screen naked: 1

Nazi facilities destroyed: 1

Category: Grampa

Captain Pike

Midlife crisis? What midlife crisis? Everything's fiiiiine. Now eat something, it'll make you feel better. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Number One, don't tell me I can't adopt more kids, I don't care that they're from the future they're mine now. Besides, we've already got a whole ship-full, what's two more?

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 2

Violations of the Temporal Prime Directive: -3 (yes, it's an irrational number, we're talking time travel, people!)

Musical Numbers Participated While On Duty: 3

Hair: Really Great

Category: Dad (or DILF if you swing that way)

Captain Georgiou

You will be captain when you can snatch the stone from my hand.

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Protege's who required a redemption arc: 1

Awesomeness: Transcendent

Category: Gone too soon, also, MILF who can kick your ass

(Edit: Courtesy of @cheer-me-up-scotty for pointing out an oversite on my part)

Captain Burnham

Cosplays as a Vulcan 'cause she's jealous of her adoptive brother. Accurately called an audience-stand-in-self-insert-mary-sue (shut up, Star Trek fandom invented the Mary Sue, it was a term coined by women fans, so shut up!), but by season 2 she actually gets interesting.

Scorecard

Mommy Issues: Has a subscription

Moms: 4

PTSD inducing life events: Like, all of them

Ships commanded: 3

Mutinies led failed: 1

Category: That One Cousin who married surprisingly well and made something of herself in spite of all expectations

Captain Kirk

Golden retriever energy, would be the Useless Bisexual Himbo if he didn't have so much game. Probably smarter than he lets on. Polyamory King and certified Alien Fucker. Boyfriend is a half-space-elf, main sometimes-girlfriend will go on to create the deadliest super-weapon ever built by humans by accident.

Scorecard

Number of Klingon Bounties on his head: [CLASSIFIED]

Number of women he's slept with: [CLASSIFIED]

Nazi regimes toppled: 1

Number of times he should have had a test that determines if you can stick your dick in it that got named after an upstart from that other science fiction show instead: 1

Ships Commanded: 3

Ships He's Stolen: 3

Category: Slut(affectionate)

Captain Kirk (the other one)

Golden Retriever that got left behind when his family moved away and had to lead a ragtag team of a crotchety older dog and a wet cat on a journey...

No, wait, hold on...

Right! That's the one!

Scorecard

Times he should have been kicked out of Starfleet: At least 4

Ships commanded: 3

Ground transport destroyed: 2 (that we know of)

Number of middle fingers given to Admiralty: 2

Category: Bad Boy

Captain Picard

You know that guy who you see going to the library all the time and always seems to have his nose in a book and always seems to be telling people off for breaking the rules and doing dangerous shit? You'd never know it but he used to be That Guy in college who got, like, ALL the girls and is going to be the Hot Grampa that you don't know how he has that much game, but he got it.

Scorecard

Ships lost in the line of duty: 2

Number of times he married and then estranged his best friend's wife who named their son after her dead first husband: 1

Number of toxic omnipotent and omniscient boyfriends who are obsessed with him and spends their spare time playing with ponies: 1

Category: Inexplicable Sexyman

Captain Badass Sisko

The Cool Dad with baggage. He's got game, but he's got priorities as well, and DON'T mess with his son or you won't even exist anymore to regret it. BLM before it was cool. Led a civil rights riot two centuries before he was born. Space Jesus who can make the best jambalaya you've ever had. Fought and won a war, punched a god, then became one.

Scorecard

Civilizations saved: 4

Native Cultures Treated With the Respect They Deserve: Many

Times He Bent the Rules so his CMO could get some nookie from a Cardasian spy plain, simple tailor: The counter broke

Successful black-ops assassinations completed: 1

Category: BAMF

Captain Janeway

THE single most decorated captain in Starfleet history. Successfully dropped the hammer on dozens of petty tyrants, oppressive regimes, roaming mass murderers, and the Borg. What Prime Directive? Your Mom. Also, probably slept with your mom, that's how much she is the Domme-est of Dommes. She told the Borg to use the safe word...and they DID!

Scorecard

Borg Daughters: 1

Times she told the Borg to step off: 3 (or 4...or 5? Honestly, with the time travel shenanigans it's hard to know for sure)

Nazis she's personally shot: 1

Category: Mistress, but it's "Ma'am" to you

Captain Freeman

She's angry AND disappointed! She's just as good as all the other captains in the fleet, and the good ones know it, but all the rest? They see "cali class" and assume all they're good for is the jobs nobody else wants. But jokes on them, because thanks to that attitude her crew are the flippin' Jacks and Jills of all trades and are more capable of fixing AND fucking AND "fucking" shit up than damn near anyone else!

Scorecard

Times the ship has nearly been destroyed but she and her crew got through it: ...uh...how many episodes are there? And then there's the times that get casual mentions that we never get the details on!

Daughters who should probably be captains now if they were at least a LITTLE more respectful and didn't actively try to piss off Admirals: 1

Times the Cerritos has had to be rebuilt to the point it might as well be called "The Ship of Cerritos Problem": At least 4

Category: Your mom...get back here, I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU!

Captain R'El

Cinnamon Roll, just let m'boy into Starfleet! He just wants a home and a family! I'd like to see full-grown captains who can keep up with half of what this Best Boy is capable of!

Scorecard

Number of species his genetic code is made up of: All of 'em. Even the GODDAMN Q!

Number of Janeways he impressed the socks off of: 2

Quality of his Janeway impression: Bad

Number of Ferengi he out-Ferengi'd: 1

Nazis punched: Give him time...

Category: Teenage Boy Who's NOT GOING THROUGH A PHASE, MOM!

Should I do Captains Shaw and Seven? How about Alternate Timeline Tripp or Future Chakotay? (Going too far down that rabbit hole will eventually lead to Imperial Kirk and Captain Spock from the movies.) Let me know in the comments.

Next Post in this series

[endofradio]

YOU’LL ALWAYS FIND ME IN THE KITCHEN AT PARTIES – A SNEAK PEEK

me? writing about this freak? of course. really looking forward to finishing this one i just Had to get this burst of muse out somehow. @trelaney @lacycardigan @daniirosie @strangererotica @tenderhoof @vintageglassheart02 @hesawifebeaterdanusethegun @rachaeljurassic @monstergifpacks @shrimpella21 @lokidoki9 (gif credit: @hamishlinklaters)

Marley was cold, bunched up in a jacket and listening to crickets chirping outside when they watched a red car drive by. Slowly, it kept driving up until it finally reached a pause right when it was close enough to Marley.

When the car stopped, so did Marley, staring at it with a raised eyebrow. There was a middle-aged man in the driver’s seat, looking at them with a smile on his face as he rolled down the window.

Yeah, the stranger was good-looking, but Marley still felt uncomfortable.

“Uh… hey.” They said, giving him an awkward wave before stuffing their hands in their pockets.

The man was still smiling at them, looking friendly as ever. “Hey.” He spoke, his voice gentle. “Walking alone at night in St. James? Really? Not sure if that’s a wise choice.” He chuckled.

Of course, Marley was yet to learn that, but men like John were why this town was unsafe. Hardly anyone even knew who he was.

They shrugged. “Well, I’m still alive, aren’t I? I have street smarts. I’ve got a knife in my pocket. I carry it on me every day.”

The man slowly nodded. “Good, good. Yeah, that’s very important.”

His voice was very quiet and monotone. Awkward, basically.

He glanced at Marley’s work uniform. “You work at that café down there?” He asked, gesturing ahead. “Heard they’ve got great coffee. Might have to stop there some day.”

They rubbed the back of their neck, nodding. “Yeah, I do. My shift just ended, actually. On my way home.”

“How far do you live from there?”

Getting personal already. Weird, but okay.

“I’m… not sure if I want to answer that. I don’t know you.”

“Just curious about how far you have to walk, that’s all, but I’m not letting you walk thirty minutes just to get home.”

Marley sighed. “Takes me around ten minutes to walk home from work. I… appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. I’m an adult, I don’t need help.”

The man’s smile faded. He almost looked disappointed, which Marley hoped wasn’t the case. He just nodded. “Alright, then. Get home safe, okay? Last thing we all need is yet another missing persons report around here…”

He did have a point. There were a lot of people, specifically women, disappearing from this town.

Marley gave him a half-smile. “Thanks. Uh… what’s your name, by the way?”

“John,” he answered, his eyes wandering to their work ID. “Marley, huh? Nice name.”

“John… super basic, but okay. See you around… I guess.”

John muttered something under his breath that almost sounded like “you will,” started up his engine, and drove off into the night.

And Marley did in fact see him again.

When they showed up to work the next day, John was sitting in the café, staring out a window.

[velvetvexations]

My early socialization experience was weird as hell.

My mother wanted a daughter to treat like a doll with all the extremely gendered nonsense that entails - and was also a second wave radfem and former political lesbian, which...yeah she was half all in on the gendered shit, but also half in weird denial about it. My dad...is the one I got my auDHD from, and the result was that he raised me exactly the same way his parents raised him - which was also very gendered, but he didn't notice that. He didn't notice how differently they treated him and his sister. He just noticed what they did right by him and what he wanted to repeat. He taught me how to use tools and rebuild car engines and be handy and outdoorsy; while my mother was giving me the whole "oh sweetie don't get your dress dirty (: oh yes you should be a #girlboss in STEM but fixing a chair is too dangerous for you to do alone why don't you get your dad to help (: are you suuuuure you can lift that 8-pound object???" thing, my dad was teaching me how to operate a forklift and training me with good lifting technique and encouraging me to haul shit twice my size and letting me learn the kinds of lessons that can only be learned by minor injury. Damned near the only thing he WASN'T doing was the whole "man up" schtick, but even THAT I kinda got a detoxified version of; there was a lot of value placed on keeping my complaints in perspective, building my emotional regulation to the...best of my limited ability, and trying to solve problems independently - again, his WHOLE thing was pretty much just "what would I repeat from what my parents did to me? What would I change?" With absolutely no regard paid to "what was different for my sister? What would have been different if I'd been a girl?" Because he straight up didn't notice that shit.

As a result I fundamentally don't care that he can't quite get gendered terms right for me, because whatever, he's always treated me like just a she/her boy anyway.

Meanwhile, like I said, my mother considered herself a feminist, full on tried to force herself to be a lesbian about it in her 20s, and yet she STILL constantly underestimated my physical strength, treated my appearance like it was the most important thing about me, and kept pushing me to sit down and "be polite" - but she usually didn't SAY these things had anything to do with me being a girl, and in many cases probably didn't even realize they were herself. "Girls can do anything boys can do - but also if you fight back against your [also prepubescent, but male] bullies They Will Kill You To Death They Are Stronger You Cannot Win" was a sentiment I got (in much less clear terms) ALL THE TIME from her through elementary school. She was obsessed with my appearance, in that distinct radfemmy "well sure butches are cool but uh by butch you still mean skinny in form-fitting clothes with a pixie cut, right?" kind of way. She would never say I should dress "more ladylike" and would get angry at family members who WOULD say that out loud - she even introduced me to the concept that crossdressing is fine (sometimes) and that trans men exist (in which she made it clear she thought of us as just weird butch women) - but she would get really, really weird and cruel if I wore jeans she considered "unflattering".

And that's just the thing, about why all flavors of radfems are wrong about how "socialization" does and doesn't impact people! She never tied gender to a good half or so of those messages, so even after I started transitioning, they still felt like they were always aimed at me. Meanwhile, I got the same kind of auDHD from my dad that made him never see the gender of his own upbringing, only "things my parents did that I would repeat vs. things they did that I would not" - I only realized just HOW aggressively gendered my mother's behavior was by studying sociology years later.

Terfs are wrong that early socialization is destiny, everyone responds to the same messages the same way, and GNC "men" are treated wonderfully.

T[i]rfs are wrong that we all ONLY ever internalize messages aimed at our ACTUAL genders and trans men can just shake off misogyny because it's not REALLY aimed at us, regardless of whether that claim stays in the realm of "because WE know deep down that something is off when we're being called the wrong thing" or gets all the way into the batshit belief that everyone has ESP for people's essential soul gender and GNC men ARE treated just fine and it's ONLY eggmode trans women who get mistreated (and they all do regardless of how well they do or don't perform masculinity) and trans men are all totally raised as men and never treated misogynistically in the first place because of that soul gender ESP.

And ALL radfems are wrong that there's a rigid, universally applicable set of rules as to what socialization looks like based on your gender - just because there ARE broad patterns that DO need to be acknowledged doesnt erase the fact that from person to person there's a LOT of variance for a LOT of potential reasons, and that ends up meaning that in order to figure out what it means for trans people, you DO have to do a whole individual level examination - including by diving into the whole dysphoria-inducing disaster that is being perceived as the wrong gender and all that comes from it.

Also I sometimes half-jokingly identify as cis-bigender because between the thing with my parents, the fact that when I hit puberty it became apparent that I'm actually intersex, and the fact that I'm pretty sure I'd have been on the femboy-transfem cusp had I been AMAB, over 10 years into transition I finally feel manly enough to go high femme when the mood strikes, and I've finally gotten comfortable calling myself a girl when it's funny, I think that's a very fun label and about as accurate and honest as any single term comes.

I wish I could frame this ask.

[holylulusworld]

Alpha daddy

Summary: Dean is overprotective.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o, pregnancy, overprotective alpha, scenting, Dean panics, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, fluff

“Uh-“ Dean immediately jumps up to look you all over as you make an odd noise. You clutch your belly and slowly rub it. “Fuck, that feels odd.”

“Odd? What kind of odd? Does it hurt? Describe the feeling,” your alpha worriedly looks you up and down. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t want to worry Dean. He’s like an overprotective mother hen since you are pregnant. He barely sleeps, afraid someone or rather something that bumps in the night sneaks into the bunker to attack you.

“I’m—” you pant. “Good. It’s just a stomach bug or something.”

“Stomach bug?” He cocks his head. “This doesn’t look like a stomach bug, Y/N. What’s wrong? I need to know if you need help.”

“It feels…odd,” you choke out. “Something is…I don’t know. It feels wrong. I’m scared.” You finally say as it feels like the muscles across your belly are tightening. It’s not painful, but uncomfortable and you’re afraid, something is wrong with your baby.

“That’s it. I’m going to bring you to the hospital,” Dean looks at your belly one last time before he walks toward the bag he placed next to his side of the bed. The one he prepared for the labor. “Give me a minute.”

Dean grabs his shoes, phone, and keys while barking his brother’s name. “SAMMY! We need to go to the hospital!”

“What? I??” Sam pokes his head into your bedroom. “What’s wrong?” He frowns and switches to worried Uncle Sammy modus. “Is she in pain? It’s too early for contractions, right?”

“I-I don’t know,” Dean throws his hands up. "Take the keys and bag. Start the engine. I’ll help Y/N.”

The brothers make quick work. Sam grabs the bag and snatches the keys out of his brother’s hands. Dean turns his attention toward you. 

He grabs a blanket, your favorite pillow before he slings one arm around your middle to help you get up from the bed. 

Being eight months pregnant isn’t easy. Your belly is huge, and you can barely see your feet. Well, Winchesters are huge. It figures that you look like a whale.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. We are going to the hospital, and everything is going to be alright,” he softly says to calm you. You nod and smile at him while breathing through the next contraction.

If only you could look inside his head right now. He’s scared to hell and back but can’t show it. Dean needs to be strong. For you.

“Thank you,” you sniff as Dean walks you along the hallways toward the garage. “You think everything is going to be alright?”

“I know it will,” he confidentially says. ‘It must, he thinks to himself…

“Doctor!” How is she? Is it labor? It’s too soon, right?” Dean almost tackles the doctor to the ground to get an answer when he leaves the exam room. “Doc?”

“It’s nothing,” the doctor says, earning a huff from you. “Braxton Hicks contractions are normal during pregnancy. Some women feel it, some don’t. Your omega is a little more sensitive.”

Now you roll your eyes. “Dean, let’s go,” you grab your alpha’s hand. “What a dick.” You grunt. “That asshole told me the whole time I shouldn’t make such a fuss.”

“What?” Dean stops in his tracks. “Lemme break his face.” He grunts when you shake your head. “I’ll do it. No one makes my omega feel bad. You were scared and needed advice. Not a douche telling you shit about something he doesn’t understand. That sonofabitch doesn’t even have a uterus.”

You snicker at Dean’s pissed expression. He squares his jaw and dips his head to glance at the doctor. “Dean, I just want to go home.” 

“Can I not punch him a little for talking like that to my omega?” He quirks a brow. “Please.”

“He’s just overworked and it’s late. Maybe he had a long day. Let’s go home. I feel much better knowing it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hmmm…” Dean still looks at the doctor. He bares his teeth when you turn your attention toward Sam and the snacks he got for you. “I see you, bastard.” Your alpha gives the doctor the evil eye. “Wait for it.”

“Alpha, come on. I wanna go home to my nest,” you hide your face in Dean’s chest to inhale his scent deeply. You’re immediately calmer and feel safe. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“That’s my job.” He puffs his chest. “I’m your alpha. I care about my omega and our baby.” Dean kisses your temple. “I’ll bring you home now…”

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags  

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@creepzeyecandy

@kiki13522

 @deansonlywife