#i was just talking with my boyfriend about how he was this whole season

[dean-is-love]

i'm obsessed with him actually

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[poguelandiarafe]

red carpet reveal | drew starkey

pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader

warnings - none

summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.

masterlist

--------

the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.

"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.

you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."

he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.

as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.

the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.

"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."

he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.

"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"

you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.

"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.

her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."

yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.

before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.

"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.

drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.

his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."

"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.

you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.

"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.

before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.

when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.

"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."

relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.

"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."

you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[katsu28]

welcome home, little guy

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: to you, summer break means no races, no responsibilities, and all the poolside piña coladas you can drink. apparently to your boyfriend, it means bringing home a new addition to your family. (1.8k)

a/n: working on way too many things at once rn but i simply couldn't resist <3 lando puppy video u will always be famous to me

To say you’re looking forward to the summer break is an understatement. It’s the first time during the whole season you get to spend two straight weeks with Lando, doing whatever you want, whenever you want. No races, no working, nothing but relaxing with the love of your life for fourteen whole days. You can only imagine the things you’ll do, the places you’ll go. 

Truth be told, he needs this more than you do. Things have been a bit tough lately, on and off the track, so to have some time off to rest and recharge before the second half of the season will be good for him. Good for you too, so you can make sure he isn’t thinking about anything other than his well being. 

You’re buzzing with excitement at the thought of him coming home any minute now, opting to await his arrival in the comfort of your shared apartment instead of braving the swarming crowd you know for a fact is waiting for him when his jet touches down in Nice. You’re so eager you’re surprised you haven’t paced a hole in the living room carpet. You like to think you’ll kiss him stupid once you set eyes on him, though you also think you’re more likely to cry a little first. 

The beep of the front door padlock powering down pulls you out of your thoughts, and then his voice, achingly familiar and soft, “Baby? Are you home?” 

“Yeah!” You say, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. He appears from the hallway slowly after a few seconds, and his back is facing you, which makes you pause. “Uh…Lan? What’s happening? Why are you facing the other way?” 

“Don’t get mad at me,” He replies over his shoulder, lowering his bag onto the floor gently with one hand. 

You narrow your eyes at his back, suspicious more than anything. “Why? What’ve you—oh my god, please don’t tell me you got that tattoo you were talking about a few weeks ago.”

“Alright, relax, I didn’t get a tattoo,” He huffs. He’s still facing backwards. “Though it’s good to know how unsupportive you’ll be if I ever do get it, thanks, babe.” 

“Seriously, what is going on with you? And for fuck’s sake, love, will you please turn around?”

He spins on his heel gingerly, beaming so bright it rivals the sun. At first, you think it’s because of you, but then you catch sight of what’s most likely the reason for that big smile, and your breath catches in your chest.

The tiniest puppy you’ve ever seen sits snuggled in Lando’s arms, peering out at you with wide eyes. Dark brown fur covers its head and pointy little ears, fading into a lighter coppery color around its eyes before turning pure white at the snout and along the rest of its body. The same lighter brown spreads in a patch along its back. 

“Lando, you did not.” 

“I did.” 

“Are you serious?” 

He smiles guiltily, stepping closer with the pup. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I’m…just surprised, is all. How did you—when did you have time to get a dog while you were working?” 

“The team partnered with a shelter for dogs for a video to, like, bring awareness and hopefully get the pups some forever homes, and um, they brought a bunch of puppies,” Lando explains, shifting the puppy a little higher against his chest. You close the leftover gap, reaching out to let the timid pup sniff your hand a few times. “This little guy crawled right up into my lap and didn’t move the whole time we were filming, and I think we just bonded with each other immediately.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” You smile, stroking its soft fur gently. Whether you’re talking to the puppy or Lando, you’re not really sure, but either way, you’re already feeling yourself start to fall in love. 

He gazes down at the dog curled up in the crook of his elbow so fondly you’re almost jealous. You’re not, but you’ve never seen Lando look at anyone or anything with this much love in his eyes before (other than you, and maybe spring rolls). “I know we've never really talked a lot about the right time to get a dog, but I couldn’t—I knew I couldn’t not bring him home with me.” 

The pup leans forward, licking your fingertips with his little pink tongue, and your heart melts into a puddle at your feet. It’s true, you’ve had the dog conversation with Lando many times before, all of which always ended the same way. With Lando being away so much and you with your own job, bringing in a new addition to your lives would be tough to figure out. 

But as Lando transfers him into your arms, and he instantly nestles up against you like you’re his home, every excuse you’ve ever made for not getting a dog flies right out the window. You know it in your heart, this is the dog you and Lando were meant to love. 

“Hi, darling,” You say softly, lifting the pup to your eye level. He’s so small he fits comfortably in two hands, tiny black nose twitching as he cranes his neck out to sniff at you. “You really did a number on this one, huh? Made him fall in love with you?” 

Lando steps behind you, sliding his arms around your waist to bring you flush against him. He hooks his chin over your shoulder comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he gives the pup scratch under the chin. “Seems like he’s doing the same to you.” 

“Seems like it,” You hum. You bring him back against your chest and up towards Lando, who breaks into a fit of giggles as his nose gets a good few licks. 

“So…can we keep him?” 

“This isn’t going to be easy, Lan, you know that, right?” You say. He nods. “We’ve got to take him to the vet, set up sessions with a trainer, potty train him. Figure out how we’re gonna do this when you’re gone.”

“We’ll figure it out before I leave again, baby. We’ve got time,” He insists, rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve already asked Charles and Alex for tips, they’re coming round for lunch and a chat as soon as they’re back in Monaco. And they’re bringing Leo, so who knows, maybe these two will become best friends.” 

“Look at you, planning puppy playdates already. He’s got forever with us now, you know? Let’s get him used to us and this place before we introduce him to others, dog dad.” 

Lando scoffs, but not unkindly. More amused than anything. “Well! Seems like we already know which one is going to be the mean parent out of the both of us, don’t we, Archie?” 

“That’s his name? Archie?”

“It’s the one the shelter gave him, but we can still change it if we find one we like more.”

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmur, planting a kiss atop Archie’s furry head. “Welcome home, Archie.” 

“Yeah,” Lando replies, squeezing you a little tighter. “Welcome home, little guy. We love you so much already.” 

You angle your head towards him, catching his chin with your free hand, bringing him towards you and kissing him gently. Lando all but melts into you, happily reciprocating. “Welcome home to you too, my love.” 

“Mm, I’ve missed you,” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a content, deflating sigh. “Gonna be a nice break, innit? No more grainy video chats or time differences for fourteen days, just you and me.” 

Archie lets out a whine, the first noise he’s made since Lando’s gotten home, as if to remind the both of you that he’s here too. Lando laughs, smoothing his fingers between the pup’s ears goodnaturedly. “And you too, of course, buddy.” 

You know Archie can’t understand a word either of you say, but the way he cocks his head intuitively makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might. 

-------

You’re used to Lando being an early riser, but he always stays in bed waiting for you to wake up on his off days, ready to cuddle with you until one of you gets hungry. 

This morning, however, when you lazily reach out an arm to find him, you come up with nothing but cold sheets. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as much as you can, you squint over at his side of the bed to see his squashed pillow and rumpled duvet, but no Lando. In your half asleep state, part of you thinks you’d just imagined him coming home with a puppy yesterday. 

But then you see the crinkly fish shaped toy on the floor in the hall as you go to find Lando, the one you’d insisted on getting on your impromptu trip to the nearest pet supply store last night despite all his huffing and puffing about it.

It’s Archie’s favorite out of all the toys you’d bought, you’d say, based on the way he’d dragged it around the living room for ages even though it was nearly the size of him. 

Lando’s laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen when you make your way in, spread eagle on his back with said puppy standing right on his chest. As soon as he spots you, he lifts his head, grinning at you excitedly. Archie takes note of the sudden movement and barks, leaping off Lando and making a beeline straight to where you’re crouched with open hands. 

“Little traitor!” Lando grumbles, pouting as he pulls himself into a cross-legged position. “I’ve played with you for the last hour and you run away as soon as someone else comes along? Rejection is a bitter cold.” 

“Don’t be jealous, Lan. Archie just knows who his favorite is already.”

“That’s bullshit,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He directs his next words at the pup currently enjoying a nice belly rub from you. “Remember who brought you home, Archibald Norris.” 

“Hang on, why does he get your last name? Why can’t it be mine?” 

Lando shrugs nonchalantly. “Mine’s got a better ring to it. Duh.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s my son too, he should have my last name!” 

“Fine, we’ll hyphenate. Happy?” 

Your nose scrunches, head tilting side to side in contemplation. “Mm, feels like the short end of the stick, but I’ll take it. Alright buddy, go to your dad! Go, go!” You encourage, throwing the fish toy you’d picked up towards Lando. 

“Not the fucking fish!” He yelps, but he grabs it anyway, scrambling to his feet to have Archie come after him in pursuit of his beloved toy. Archie barks up a storm as he chases Lando, tongue lolling out of his mouth, little legs moving as quick as they can. 

Sure, maybe there won't be any jet setting away on holiday during this break, but it’s fine. You haven’t seen Lando look this happy in a long time now, so you don’t care at all, really. 

In fact, as you watch Lando and Archie run around the apartment like they’ve been best buddies forever, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

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The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

༺──────────────༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

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[creamecafe]

I haven’t seen many fics about player 333 yet (Myunggi) 😔 Could you do maybe an enemies to lover type story with him!!!

Wicked Game | Myung-Gi Pt. 1

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You're stuck in the squid games fighting for your life. It also doesn't help that you are stuck with a wanna be rich scammer fraud.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Myung-Gi x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: enemies to lovers, hurt

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy this! Also the reader is an ex of Myung-Gi before the games. Please understand I don't HATE Kim Jun-hee, I just thought it would fit more for enemies to lovers. I also believe I may put this into two parts as the 3rd season is yet to come

If you would like to be tagged for the next part, let me know in the comments down below and I'll add you to the list!!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Joining the squid games could possibly be the last thing any person with common sense and a reason to live would consider doing. Unless they either had none.

That's what it looked like for you. The games you had to do to win 45.6 billion won had you either questioning if it's still worth it to still keep going or just to end it all on this island.

Out of all the people in these games, there's one face that you despised seeing and wondered how he's still alive after what he did, Myung-Gi.

He's your ex boyfriend. Being with him was great at first, but once he was invested in the crypto coin thing business, it felt like you're being cheated on. It also didn't help that he had an affair behind your back with a girl named Kim Jun-hee who turned up pregnant.

You didn't hate Kim Jun-hee, as you felt bad for her that your ex abandoned her and their baby, but the whole thing hurted you.

There's nothing more you wanted to get out of here with enough money to move to another place and start off fresh.

When you first woke up in the dormitory with all the other players, you wondered where this possibly could go. You looked around to see so many unfamiliar faces.

Then a man in a pinkish red suit all the way across the room wuth a black covered mas with a white triangle comes out from double doors and starts explaining why majority are here. Because of their debts.

They showed different videos of people playing Ddakji and getting slapped in the face. There was one face you recognized, your ex. It wouldn't be surprising that he was in debt for trying to chase after the crypt coin thing.

It looks like you're not the only one who hated him, many people who fell for the crypto coin were also mad at him. A purple-haired guy stood out from the rest, as he was a rapper you heard from others who were apparently fans. You had no interest in him or your ex but were wondering what the whole ordeal of winning money is.

You had to sign a waiver for the games, and you were soon directed to take pictures. It was rough enough. Then you would have to climb stairs that seemed like you were going to Mount Everest. You saw your ex from the right side across. You also didn't want to risk being seen.

Finally, you reached the first game after what seemed like an eternity. There was a huge robot doll and the whole layout was supposed to imitate a school playground with its blue sky and sand ground.

"Hey there pretty" You turn around and see the purple haired guy who was talking to your ex

"Who are you?" You exclaimed looking him up and down not in the mood to be hit on.

"I'm Choi Seung-hyun, Thanos for my music. You might of heard my raps before?"

"If I did, I probably would want to be deaf right now. Including not hearing this conversation."

He pretended to be hurt and put a hand over his heart.

"Ouch girl. Cold aren't you?"

You rolled your eyes. He sees another girl walks by and also tries talking to her. Poor girl, you thought.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called and look around.

"Y/N!" A hand fell on your shoulder and you flinched turning around.

It was Myung-Gi. Your panic turned into annoyance as you rolled your eyes again.

"What are you doing here?" He asks

"Should be asking you that too, but I think it's obvious."

"Can we please talk?"

"What's there to talk about Myung-Gi? You chose a cyrpt coin over me and cheated on me, and got another girl pregant"

"And I regret it very much. Please come back."

"Share those regrets with the others in here too, including the mother of your child."

He tried to reply back but you walked away from him, ignoring him.

Speakers came on, explaining the rules of the game.

A screaming man came into the front and said it's not what we think the game is. He exclaims that if you move, you'll die.

People around you scoffed and found the man crazy. It seemed like to you he was crazy too, but what if he was right?

He was still screaming telling people not to move a muscle when the game starts.

The robot started turning around and putting her hand up to the tree to not look at the other player.

It started singing.

"Everyone freeze!" The man in front says.

Nobody moved a muscle. Your eyes looked around and saw no one moving. What if the guys telling the truth?

The doll looked away and you started moving forward quickly along with everyone else.

"Everyone freeze!" Yelled again the older man.

There was a scream coming from a girl who moved. She laughed exclaiming she just moved. A bullet came through her head and she dropped dead.

The guy really wasn't lying then. One wrong move, you're dead. More people started moving and more gunshots were coming.

Bodies were dropping. People are screaming. This was a bad idea to be here. You were also pretty sure you were going to die with your ex boyfriend. That another cherry on top to add.

"If you don't make it to the finishing line on time, you'll also die." The man yells but has his mouth covered like he was going to take a sneeze.

It felt impossible to win this game. You were so sure you were going to win money but now the only thing you could be winning is death. You wanted to see if Myung-Gi was still alive.

But you couldn't risk being shot. Everyone sooned formed into a single file line. The man explained that the doll can't see what's behind a person if there's a bigger person in front.

More gunshots came. More bodies dropping. You couldn't stop now though. You're close to the finish line, you can feel it.

You soon reached the finish line relieved that you made it alive. You looked around for Myung-Gi to see if he's alive.

Why do you care so much about him? You thought to yourself.

It's just basic human sympathy you thought. Hating him is one thing, but him dying is another.

The game ended and you witnessed the man who warned about the game, you see his number was 456 and another, a woman helping a man who got shot in the leg reach the finish line get shot in the head.

This isn't just a game. This life or death. Everyone including you who passed were allowed to go back to the dorms.

Zoned out walking, seeing bodies and blood, you hear your name being called.

"Y/N!"

Turning around to see who called your name, you see Myung-Gi run up to you.

"Hey, are you okay?"

A light smile came from your face.

"Yes I'm alright and you?"

"Alive thank God." He chuckled.

You chuckled lightly but didn't know what to say after. Usually, you would have something smart to say to him but after what happened, you wanted nothing more to be out of here.

There were yelling and shouts to how the man knew they would shoot if you lost the game. They were accusing the man of being behind the game.

A pink guard then came out and congratulated us for completing the first game. It then if a majority voted to O, you could leave the game.

Everyone chose their own sides O and X. You chose X, even though you desperately wanted the money to be able to move to another city. You see Jun-Hee, his other ex, chose X too. Myung-Gi chose O, which you weren't surprised.

Unfortunately there were more O's than X's which meant you had to stay. You were heartbroken but also upset and turned to Myung-Gi. Now you wish he died in the first game.

You went up to him and turned him around aggressively and slapped him across the face. People looked at you guys, but you didn't care.

"You're really that selfish, you had to choose O?"

"Y/N-"

"The mother of your child is in this game and you choose O. I should have known from the start dating you was a bad idea. If these games don't kill you, I will."

You stormed off away from him and went to your bed. Myung-Gi probably thought you were bluffing about you killing him.

Something deep down you wanted to keep that word true.

It looks like you'll have to wait and see the next day.

𝙽𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙹𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!

[scented-morker]

୨୧ Whoops 𓂃 ♥︎

idol!riki x idol!reader, fem!reader, secret relationship, riki is a little too used to taking care of you… 950 words ft. Mark Lee cameo 🫶

Award show season in the kpop industry was one of the most fun parts of your job.

You spent hours preparing stages and dance breaks with your group, trying on beautiful dress after beautiful dress, and of course texting your boyfriend Riki for spoilers on his stages.

You: Pleaseeeeee 🙏 I’ll send you a picture of my red carpet dress if you tell me

Riki: you should probably do that anyway 🤭 Jungwon said last show I stared too much but I was just so shocked, you looked so pretty

You: YOU WERE SHOCKED??? DO I NOT NORMALLY LOOK PRETTY???

Riki: Ok crazy I DID NOT SAY THAT

You: blocked.

You were joking around, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had noticed him staring when you walked past his group and hadn’t been able to stop your blush even after his leader had smacked him to knock it off.

Your own leader had made up an excuse to yank you back to the makeup artist in an attempt to offset your red face.

Fans absolutely caught the whole thing on camera, and you two were viral for a week.

That was the non fun part of award season— trying to pretend you weren’t completely smitten with the beautiful boy on stage.

Everytime Riki performed you wanted to jump out of your seat and scream your head off.

You were dating the world’s most talented boy and couldn’t even show it… especially since your company had made you go through extra media training to avoid it happening again.

As much as you hated keeping it a secret, you hated to see your boyfriend getting hate even more, so you focused on controlling yourself around the cameras.

When the camera panned to your group during the Enhypen performance on New Years Eve, you calmly smiled and nodded your head to the beat of XO. Your leader gave you a discreet high five as soon as the screen refocused on the boys, and you glowed with pride.

Riki had done well for the most part as well, managing to look like he really liked the song you were performing and not like he was losing his mind over your leather outfit.

Everything was going perfectly smooth until the very end of the show.

You were crammed onto the stage with what seemed like every single idol that has ever debuted.

You bow as you once again bump into one of your seniors, glad when they give you a quick hug and wave off your apology.

It’s almost midnight, and you look around the stage in an attempt to find the rest of your group who you haven’t seen in at least five minutes.

You laugh to yourself when you spot your boyfriend immediately, his head peeking over the rest of the crowd due to his sheer height.

He spots you and raises an eyebrow at you in question, but you don’t even attempt to explain your panicked look, knowing the interaction would get caught and analyzed hundreds of times.

Instead you start walking towards his general direction, making sure to look just enough to the side that people won’t think you’re approaching him.

You hope your group is somewhere near his, thinking your age and popularity were similar enough for the directors to place you beside each other.

There’s music playing over the speakers as you continue looking around for someone you recognize. Idols start dancing around in excitement, and you’re once again jostled as you make your way through the crowd.

A particularly excited Mark Lee accidentally backs up into you, bumping you what feels like halfway across the stage, and you’re fully expecting to hit the ground from the impact.

You internally groan at the videos that are surely going to be everywhere in a few hours, and you try to make sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone when you fall.

But instead of hitting the ground how you were expecting, you find yourself against a familiar body with an arm around your waist.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling, and you don’t even need to turn around to know Riki is behind you.

You quickly untangle yourself from him, turning and bowing deeply to him.

“Thank you for catching me.”

He mirrors your body language, lifting his head to peer into your eyes, his own soft and full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, standing back up and knowing you’re screwed.

A quick glance behind him shows Jungwon with wide eyes and Heeseung losing his mind laughing at the two of you being horrible relationship hiders.

You bow to them as well, although you make a mental note to yell at Heeseung the next time you see him.

Mark Lee chooses that moment to come up to you with a red face and sheepish smile as he apologizes profusely and Haechan laughs behind him.

You accept it quickly, wanting to get out of the area and horrible situation as soon as possible.

You’re grateful when your leader finally approaches you, looking between you, Mark, and Riki with terrified eyes.

“I’ll explain later.” You whisper as she grabs your arm and the two of you quickly exit towards the other part of the stage.

When you wake up the next day it’s to multiple texts from your manager, two calls from your boyfriend, and a Dispatch article featuring the photo of Riki holding you against him in the middle of the stage.

Whoops.

[urlonelystarrr]

pretty in red

ghostface x you

synopsis -> during a halloween festival, you catch the eye of a certain killer, pretending to be a scare actor.

tags/warnings -> public sex, killing, bondage, pussy fingering, a little knife play, a little cnc, oral!reader giving/receiving, ghostface is a little manipulative/violent, slapping, nipple sucking, body worship, ass eating, raw penetration, slight degrading, dirty talk, dom!ghostface, sub!reader, & kidnapping.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁

in the quiet town of woodsboro, people were hesitant when it came to halloween. maybe because of the murders in previous years, the ghostface costumes that were still sold in stores despite the tragedies surrounding them. but instead of mourning the losses this year, you and your friends had decided to go to a haunted house festival. people were starting to move on, they were bringing back trick or treating, pumpkin carving, the very essence of fall.

fall had always been your favorite season, it wasn't too hot or too cold, the scent of pumpkin spice, the desserts and baking, everything seemed perfect about the season. it's currently the early week of october and you want to spend it as much as you can, which is why you've dedicated the whole night before to getting ready, who knows, maybe you'll get lucky in a haunted house?

your phone rings in the other room, and you've just gotten out of the shower. the tiles feel cold against the bare underside of your foot, light taps following until you've reached your phone. "hello? hey girl, i just got out of the shower....yeah, yeah i'm about to get ready. i'm excited," you smile as the sound of sophia's voice flows out from your speaker, her excited pitch matching yours. she's been your best friend for the longest time, since elementary, probably.

"ohh my gosh, i don't know what the eff to wear!" her voice squeals, "am I going for a cute fall look, or scary halloween?" she asks, and you can already picture her holding up shirts in front of herself while she pouts in front of the mirror. "i'm going with...cute fall, since october just started," you say, setting your phone down on the vanity to put on victoria secret panties and a bra, you know, in case.

"girl you're so right, let me check pinterest," she says, murmuring to herself distractedly, as you put on your deodorant, your lotions and body oil. it's sacred to you, to take care of yourself. whatever you're going to wear - it's a little basic but it's cute, and you've spent the longest time figuring out what to wear. your clothes wait for you on your bed, but you throw on a old sleeping shirt so that your makeup doesn't get on it.

"hey are you still there?" sophia asks, the phone shuffling as she almost had forgotten that she called. you hum in response and she takes it as a sign to continue talking, "so listen...logan is coming with us, but in a different car. is that okay? and he's bringing a friend, uh, alex, yeah."

"sophia?" your voice raises a pitch, your eyes widening momentarily, the neutrogrena hydro boost sheet mask on your clean skin shifting along with your facial expression. "what?" her voice almost sounds panicked, but you're not freaking out that much, are you?

"that's lana's ex-boyfriend, and lana's not coming with us." you said into the phone, letting the mini pink standing fan blow over your face, your skin drinking up the mask's hydrating ingredients. sophia sounds dumbfounded, as if she doesn't understand how it might look, and she stutters, "i don't get it..."

"i mean, wouldn't it look weird to hang out with our friend's ex-boyfriend? and i heard he was such an asshole, i never knew what he looked like, but i hated him from how lana described him." you say, adjusting the mask on your face, peeling it into the correct position. your skin almost prickles from how chilly it is inside your room, the mask's cooling sensation washing over your skin in a refreshing way.

behind the phone sophia is choosing her outfit carefully, and she sighs. "ohmygosh," she says so fast that it's jumbled into one word, "you're totally right. maybe we should just jump him when we see him?" she asks. you laugh on the line, and see that the timer is almost up for your mask, only five seconds. you peel it off as you talk, "we should! but...another time. let's just...i don't know, ignore him." you sigh, tossing the dried out mask into the bin, starting to do your makeup. sophia paces around her room, almost overthinking the situation by a lot, "ignore him?! girl, im going into the haunted houses with logan!" she says, stressing about the situation. it's not that big of a deal, you think to yourself. surely it isn't. it won't be a problem, just ignore lana's ex.

whether or not you and sophia outwardly say it, you know about lana's tendency to overreact, or read deeply into situations. and so, your fingers move across your keyboard and you immediately text lana about who's coming and why, hoping to clear the air. she sounds normal, you think. and the sudden beep in the driveway alerts you that sophia's come. thankfully you've been getting ready at least three hours before it's time to meet at the hangout, and now you're finished. you walk out, and get into the car, sophia compliments your perfumes, you compliment her outfit, and she nearly cries and says she loves you.

it's beginning to get dark but barely, and shit, the haunted houses are a lot bigger than you've imagined. this place looked bigger than the reviews said, and they even have rides. suddenly you feel twice as excited, not only about rides and haunted houses, but masked men too? the thought disappears as fast as other thoughts come, and the sensation of sophia's hand squeezing yours gently, reassures you of a fun night. her expression lights up when she sees logan and alex waiting at the front gate, their wristbands already on. logan and alex are a tall pair, and logan has brown hair that's cut into a modern looking mullet, and he has on baggy jeans with converse shoes, and a hoodie on. his cross chain peeks out from the top of his hoodie. you think he looks basic, sophia thinks she's met her husband, but it's okay.

"hey guys," sophia says with a smile, purposely avoiding alex, a guy with darker hair than logan, cut into a short textured fringe with a fade, and he's wearing grey sweatpants and a black shirt, and a chain as well, and his shoes are black air force ones. he's also basic, in your eyes. but a part of you feels bad for thinking he looks good, but he has a cocky look on his face that's an ultimate turn off. logan is a nice guy and you don't have any issues with him, but he's too hyper for you, which is why he's perfect for sophia. logan immediately hugs sophia with a boyish grin on his face, and you smiled at how happy sophia looks. she's wearing doc martens and a pair of sheer black tights, and a black miniskirt and a cute sweater, and you forgot to include her cream colored leg warmers. logan pays for her ticket entry, and alex pays for yours, despite the amount of times that you've declined his offer.

and you're even more surprised when they buy fast pass tickets, which includes haunted houses and rides. it's not like it's an amusement park where the prices are ghastly, but $60 dollars sounds like a steal. you awkwardly thank him, and inwardly curse for staggering behind logan and sophia.

"look at 'em, they're already leaving us behind." his voice is smooth as he talks, and he looks over your appearance, subtly checking you out. you look cute, you have on fur boots, and low rise miss me jeans, and a zip up jacket that also has the same fur on the hood. "yeah, i figured that would happen." you say, trying to keep up with them. the first thing you guys do is go on rides, since it's still too bright for haunted houses just yet. you're at least thankful that sophia is willing to go on a few rides with you, and then you have to sit next to alex.

your attention is drawn when the four of you wait in line for a ride, which has a few people in front. you're focused on a certain guy, and immediately your heart starts to beat a little faster. a tall guy, obviously dressed as ghostface, can be seen scaring people and even kids, but he slowly turns his head to stare at you.

you're not in a fucking movie where time seems to stop, so you immediately look away and feel awkward for staring. as you and sophia talk again, logan and alex chuckle, and you follow their gazes and jump a tiny bit when ghostface is so close to you. the only thing separating you both is the metal gate, and his knife is raised menacingly. the eyeholes of his mask are so dark and you can tell that this mask isn't the shitty one you see in costume stores. it's well made, and part of you wonders if he can even see. almost sensing your attraction, the tip of his knife gently tilts your head up, and you look up at him, hearing them giggling behind you.

"your wristband," a hand taps your shoulder, and you see logan, sophia, and alex (the one who tapped you), all being let into the ride. you turn to see ghostface, half expecting him to see him disappear like in movies, but he remains still, watching as you go into the ride. the man scans your wrist and you take a seat next to alex. the ride was a tall one, it was almost built like a crane, that one ride you see that holds many people, swings back and forth and goes upside down. the overhead bar clamps down on your shoulders, and your feet dangle. surprisingly they play good music here, a lot of throwbacks, which you sing along to on the ride. alex notices and smiled and laughed, his foot grazing yours.

you're sure you've ridden all of the rides by now, skipping the baby ones, until logan begs to go on the bumper carts, which sophia feeds into. "i'm hungry," alex says, "y'all can go on the bumper carts or whatever, i can just grab us food." alex says, and logan and sophia agree since you all wanted food from the same place. you follow alex and the two of you wait in line, with the two of you memorizing their orders. "logan eats like a baby," alex laughs, seeing the text that logan sent him. you laugh along, "well, sophia's not too far off, i guess. but she's more open minded," you smile, spotting them in the distance, in the line together. "they really look like they're dating, i can't believe they're not." you say, sighing and looking over the menu.

"i know, logan needs to stop being a pussy and just get with her," alex said, looking at the menu. "what are you getting?" he asks, looking at you. "um...i want the steak bites," you said, and he seems to change his mind. "fuck, that sounds good. i'm not getting a burger then," he says, placing the order to the man. "and i'll get a strawberry funnel cake," you tell the man, he nods and you pay for your own food this time (and sophia's), and he covers himself and logan. by the time your food is done, logan and sophia are already headed back to the two of you, their eyes widening at the sight of the amount of food. "holy mukbang," logan says, sitting down and eating his fries and chicken tenders, and sophia eats the same thing. the four of you converse and laugh together, and you share your funnel cake with everyone, since it was bigger than you thought. alex takes his thumb and wipes the corner of your mouth, which makes you feel embarrassed, and you shove him away lightly. "don't do that," and he laughs at your expression. despite the amount of fun that you're having, moments come where you feel like alex is too flirty, and it makes your gut twist with guilt - lana.

alex seems to notice when you look away from him, or when you catch yourself engaging too freely with him. it's an uncomfortable conversation to have inside a haunted house, that even some scare actors refrain from popping out behind old wooden cabinets to scream in your face, it's painted faces that stare back at you as if they hesitate, the sound of alex growing annoyed. "why the fuck are you being weird?" he grumbles at you as the two of you walk, "im not weird...i just don't want you flirting with me," you say, an attempt to try to calm him down. "you're cool one second, and then the next you're like ignoring me, and yeah i am flirting but there's nothing wrong with that."

"i know-" you cut yourself off, seeing him in the distance, not fully but you see the sway of his robe behind him, decending boots going down the structure of the haunted house, behind curtains. "but lana's my friend, im not gonna flirt back with her ex-boyfriend," you say, your heart thumping just a bit harder. he nudged you with his shoulder to walk in front, "i don't get you," he says, his voice bordering on frustration. "if you want me to be honest i think you're really pretty and funny."

this feels like torture. it's so awkward and you don't know what to say or do. "i don't see you that way," your gaze pretends to look at the house and you realize that the two of you have strayed too far, it feels like you're taking the wrong path. there's not many actors, it's just a dark open space. "fuck, where's the exit?" you try to steer the conversation in a different direction, in hopes that it won't be so fucking awkward, and as you're trying to find a exit, you realize only too late that you've somehow separated from alex. is this good or bad? on one hand, it's not awkward, on the other, you're on your own in this maze of a haunted house, and the worst part seems to come up, as you stare into multiple reflections of yourself, and you're lost in a maze of mirrors. one thing is clear - movies are dramatic.

it's easy to find your way out, easier than you thought, as you look at the ground, indicators of corners, or where your reflection isn't dulled. a deep breath, then a muffled scream as a gloved hand clamps over your mouth, your eyes wide with terror. you shove whoever it is away, but your pounding heart calms when your eyes lock into the black eyeholes of a ghostface mask. it's all part of his act, his job. so why does the knife he's clutching look oddly real? and why does a hint of cologne churned with iron waft off of him? he's got you trapped, confused, and alone.

"can't run now, can ya?" his voice is rasp, the iconic deep murmur that can only belong to ghostface. you seem to be at a loss for words, your eyes wide as you look down at his black boots, footsteps imprinted into concrete floors, staining them red. your eyes follow the path, and you run past him. he doesn't flinch. he doesn't attempt to grab you as you run past, that confident that he can catch you. that he can outrun you, even if you've got a head start. you whimper and hide inside a fake bathroom, the area set up in fake blood and decorated well for the budget. you hide in a dark corner, covering your own mouth to shield any noises, and your eyes scan the area, seeing the under sole of black air force ones, and you creep towards it, walking and crouching. attached to that black shoe is a grey leg, the cotton of the sweatpants drenched in red, and you let out an ear piercing scream, the slashed throat of alex is a blatant slap to the face, there's no saving him.

and that guilt lingers behind as you sob and run away, your legs suddenly feeling shaky, you should've stayed with him. you should've-

it sounds like somebody's running, you turn around and you're so horrified by him running at you, that you seem to freeze, and every moment you've judged anyone for freezing up in horror movies, it all comes back to you. sometimes you're scared shitless that fear takes over you, and your body freezes in hopes that it will somehow camouflage you. but it feels like such a long gap that you freeze, only five seconds. five seconds too late, even though you start to run at full speed, his hand reaches the back of your shirt before your hand can reach the exit handle. "no, please!" you wail, his hand clamps over your mouth and you thrashed around and tried to run, but he was so fucking strong.

a grunt escapes his mouth as he knocks you out, bringing your body to a part of the haunted house that's unused.

sophia and logan have started to question why you and alex have been away for so long - and even though logan insists to sophia that you're okay, she doesn't believe him.

"fuck," ghostface mutters under the mask, hauling your body onto a large, stainless steel table. he restricts your hands and legs to the table, leaving you in just your bra and panties. the moment you wake up, your head throbs with a full pounding, and your eyes try to make out whatever is in the dark room.

you whimper, jerking your hands and feet to find that they're restricted, and a light overhead shines down on you. you wince and shut your eyes, letting out a small groan. his hand blocks the light out for you, letting you see him. "fucking finally." he grumbles, staring down at you, while you pitifully stare back up at him, with teary eyes and furrowed brows.

"don't beg me just yet." he murmurs into your ear, his fingers - gloved in leather, caress the column of your throat, reacting to you swallowing. you feel a chill climbing up your spine - and you can't tell if it's him or everything else. the chilly table underneath you, the fact you're fucking half naked. "beg you for what? to release me?" you ask, your voice as shaky as it was before.

"yeah, sweetheart. you're not leavin' me so soon," he cackles, finding amusement in your demise. the way your eyes water and your makeup runs, fuck it's so sexy. "who's alex? your boyfriend?" he suddenly asks, his hand squeezing your cheeks together. you shake your head, "no he's not! he's not even my friend but-"

"oh, doll." he scoffs, releasing your jaw. "he wanted you. that's why i had to do it." he says, as if it justified what he did.

"no you didn't," you sniffle again and your voice breaks. "why'd you kill him?" you say, your chest heaving and shuddering as you sob.

he watches you cry and shakes his head, chuckling darkly. "fuck baby, you're making me horny seeing you cry."

"fuck you!" you cried out, whimpering and thrashing, but all it ends up in is him slapping the shit out of you, making you quiet instantly.

his hands go down to his belt, his robe opening to let you see the black jeans he's wearing, gloved hands unbuckling the leather, and he ties it around your mouth as a temporary gag. you look at him, wide eyed as his hand reaches down and cups one of your tits, and you stay still. "fucking beautiful," he says, raspily. "you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." a hand reaches for the knife holstered to his thigh. you should be disgusted. you should throw up and scream at him to stop, but something is oddly erotic about the situation. the way he's praising you...it makes you feel something, something you shouldn't. the tip of the blade traced your belly, his fingers gently squishing down into your stomach, before he reaches your panties. he doesn't focus on that part yet, instead he moves up and turns his mask to expose a jaw with a tiny bit of stubble, leaning down he kisses your cleavage.

"don't want me to stop, do you, doll?" he sounds like he's fucking smirking. you whimper in response and he opens the gag for you to speak. the way he's touching your body makes you feel oddly...worshipped. his touch is careful, in comparison to the way he touches other people.

your brows furrow. "you slapped me." you say, your cheek stinging red. "i did, didn't i?" he says, caressing your cheek. "sorry doll, I had to let you know who's in charge."

and for some reason, you're not bothered.

"look at this pretty little body," he murmurs, caressing the dip of your waist and the flare of your hip. "gonna make you feel so good baby, better than any guy you've been with."

you swallowed. "what makes you so sure, huh? you- you basically kidnapped me and tied me up." your heart beats faster when his hand squeezes your thigh. "you're a fucking killer, how would you even treat me better than any other guy?" your voice raises. you don't know why you're being defiant when deep down you like this game, it's always been a part of you that you forced yourself to bury deep down.

"cause you know id kill for you, doll." he leans down and kisses your stomach, and you have to force yourself to not make a sound. to not give into what he wants, he wants you to react, to submit. but he loves a brat. he loves someone who'll fight back the way you do.

his hands cup your tits again, relishing in the pretty leopard print bra you have on, with rhinestone straps and black lace decorating the cups. no matter what tit size you are, he fucking loves it. he grabs his knife again and presses the handle of it to your clothed pussy, making you gasp, as he kisses your cleavage, pulling your bra up to suck on one of the puffy peaks, forcing you to make a sound. "oh my god," you say in a slight whine, trying to press your thighs together, your head turning to the side as you gasp and shiver. he pulls away and unties your hands from the table, but they're still tied together. he's able to take off your bra by disconnecting the straps from the cups, and his mouth kisses and sucks on your tits, sucking on the soft fat, and then sucking a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the bud, while the handle of the knife grinds into your pussy, wedged between pussy lips. you're a moaning mess and he fucking loves it. "good girl, that's a good fucking girl."

the front of your thong is pulled down, and he kisses your soft mound, the knife cutting away at the binds on your ankles, letting you spread your legs wider for him. he pushed your thighs up to your chest, peeling your panties off and keeping them in his pocket. "look at this," he purrs, "look at your pretty pussy, baby." he groans, leaning down and licking one of your pussy lips, before spreading you open and licking at your clit, sucking your soft folds into his mouth.

"please," you cry out, your hands tied. "stop this, we're in fucking public!" you say, trying to lift your head to look down at him. it feels so surreal, that ghostface is gonna fuck you in the backstage of a haunted house out in public. the bloodied corpse is in the back of your head, thoughts overrun with his tongue and lips, pleasuring you. he's so hungry, he's so horny for you that it makes you feel somewhat appreciated despite the situation, and the way he sucks and kisses you, it feels like he knows exactly what you want, what you need.

or maybe you've just been unaware of the eyes that watch you through your window whenever you masturbate, whenever your fingers are stuffed down your panties. the same panties he snatches from your laundry pile. the haunted festival isn't his first time seeing you. he'd been watching for months.

"n' im about to be fucking you in public," he mumbles into the wetness of your cunt, the shine coating his lips and chin. he gives one last eager suck, and one last eager lick up from your asshole to your clit. but once he tastes your ass, it was like he was going to stop, but ultimately decided against it. now his tongue is lapping at your asshole, and a gloved thumb is rubbing your clit, and a third stimulant is his other thumb, lightly fingering your pussy. it's too much, too much that your eyes roll back and you let out a pretty moan, and your back arches from the table, your body tensing before you cum, cumming hard. a few seconds after your orgasm he suckles hungrily onto the new wetness that leaks out of your pussy hole.

"holy fuck," he rasps, "look at'cha, making a mess all over my hands. dirty girl, ain't you?" he quickly takes his jeans off, showing off the large bulge in his black Calvin Klein boxers proudly. "dirty fuckin' slut, know you wan' suck my cock, don't you?" while you lay on the table for him, he takes a large step towards you, looming over your head. a gloved hand bunches your hair in a tight grip, while his other forces your mouth open, and he guides his pink tip towards your mouth, hissing when the warmth surrounds the tip of his cock. "fuck baby," he says between clenched teeth, "mouth's just as wet as this pretty pussy," he says and lightly smacks your pussy, which makes a wet squelching sound. you stare up into his mask, lightly moaning while providing him suction, your tongue wrapping around the wet tip, and his grip in your hair tightens. he could cum from just the sight of you, mouth sucking him up like an easy slut, your eyes glazed over with an expression that's begging for some dick in you. his grunts morph into a small, breathy groan, eyes rolling back behind the mask, he pulls out to get on the table, almost straddling your face while he fucks your mouth, holding your head in place while he thrusts his hips fowards.

"fuck, shit..." he grunts, keeping a hand next to your head, his breathing heavy. you eagerly suck, grunting and your brows furrow when his pace is too rapid. your thighs press together. "nuh-uh," he scolds, "no moving. lay there and suck my fucking cock."

the table creaks, and you suck him real good until he cums. he shoves his cock deep, squeezing your hair while emptying his balls in your mouth, with a throaty groan. his thighs nearly shake from the pleasure, but he's got high stamina.

in an instant you're flipped onto all fours, and he smacks your ass hard with his hand and smacks between your pussy lips, making you moan when his tip thwacks against your clit just right. "gonna fuck you so hard you can't remember your name," he mutters into your ear, positioning himself behind you, his cock teasing your cunt, your ass, anything he can drag and fuck. "fuck, baby, your pussy's so fucking tight. can't wait to ruin this little cunt." he grunts, and after teasing your hole with the head of his cock, he can finally slip inside of you, hissing at the feeling of you, so tight and fucking warm around him.

"fuck, please," you whimper, the side of your face pressed into the stainless steel table underneath you, the once cool metal now feeling warm from how long you've been laying there. he smacks your ass hard, "beg for my cock. you like that, don't you? having a killer's cock inside your pussy?" he taunts, wrapping your hand around a gloved fist, pulling your head back. "maybe ill slit your throat and fuck you at the same time. i bet you'd like that," he sneers, starting to thrust, after your begging. you can't believe this, can't believe you're enjoying it so much that your pussy sucks him in so good, drooling all over his veiny length, the tip of his cock almost kissing your warm insides. and you can't believe the words that come out of your mouth, out of pure humiliation and submission, he's got you wrapped around his cock.

your pants turn into moans, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth, like a fucked out slut that he loves. his thumb slides into your asshole, fingering it lightly while he fucks you, groaning with each thrust, each sound your pussy makes. "feels...s'good, please," you whine and beg, feeling it so fucking close that it's hard to keep your thighs spread like this. he had you on your side, in missionary, and he's now on the table with you, your legs pushed up to your chest, and him almost sumo squatting above you, pounding into your pussy. a slippery thumb lightly stroked your clit, rubbing in circles, trying not to slip off the wet nub. "you like that, baby? like the way I pound this little pussy?" he grunts, balls feeling hot as he pounds into your pussy, losing himself in the warmth. you're crying, and it makes him so fucking horny that he squeezes your throat, groaning as he fills your pussy with his cum, fucking it until your poor hole has no choice but to push it out, mingling with your own cum. your breath is a shuddering gasp, that only echoes in the empty haunted house.

you've been fucked so hard that the naturally dark room feels darker, parts of you suddenly remembering the fact that there's people, that you're in public and the memory makes you freeze, as he wipes your pussy down, half using his cum and something like a napkin, or a towel, you're not sure. the door jingles, an indication of another presence, forcing you to yank your clothes on, and he's right behind you, grinning behind his mask, his hands rubbing over your tits while you two hide inside of a closet, your breathing shuddering as you attempt to re-dress yourself in the tight space.

a flashlight illuminates the slightly wet stainless steel table, chains and cuffs laying around. the security guard moved on, the light emitting from the flashlight disappearing from your sight. you have no idea what to say to him, after he gave you dick that good? it's hard to really think, but then you feel the hardness of his mask gently dig into your shoulder, "don't worry. I'll find you." he says, low and throaty, a clear threat, or a promise of something more.

once you leave the haunted house, confused and fucked out of your mind, the coolness of autumn greets you, refreshing the sweat glistening skin, making you stagger to blot your face with napkins, that smell like fry oil and other things. sophia and logan are always in clear sight, the two of them sharing ice cream that could probably feed four but you don't judge. you run up to sophia and hug her tightly, your eyes suddenly feeling watery.

and he watches you from afar.

the bloodlust grows stronger, each day, each kill, each slash of the throat. he loves the way you pretend to act innocent and unaware, the look of doubt in your gaze when questioned about alex's disappearance. the twitch of your fingers when you play with your clothes. he enjoys it all. and he knows he's got you, encasing you in webs, making sure you never leave, like the perfect meal made just for him. you can't get rid of him.

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authors note: hey so.....I know I said I'd post this by Halloween. I lied. I'm actually so grateful for everyone that likes my posts, even though I'm a liar and a lazy writer sometimes </3 and I would say that I've been busy with school, and I have been, but I did have a lot of free time which I spent playing Roblox on :D it's hard to write sometimes. You don't feel as motivated as you used to, but whenever y'all hype me up it makes me want to write more, and like I said, I'm going to be doing newer characters (cod & maybe tlou) and I'm really sorry but I'm out of my anime phase (I have been out of it since a few years ago...). But I hope you freaks enjoy this one !

[g4rvez-r3id]

Protector

Boyfriend!Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have been together a few months and he’s beginning to notice how often you keep your guard up and he converses with you about his concerns and so you tell him why you act the way you do.

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: established relationship, spencer being a concerned bf, mentions of past physical assault, reader has ✨trauma✨, crying, kissing, mention of past trauma, dark humor (?), spencer lowkey doesn’t get dark humor, it’s cutesy towards the end, lowkey projected here sorry y’all

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i wanted to write another personal one-shot, i wanted to share my own personal experience on here so please tread this lightly :) i hope y’all like this one because this one did truly come from the heart. <3

He noticed it after leaving Rossi’s mansion one night. Spencer’s team had invited you out to dinner. You’d only been dating just a few months but they’d heard all about you from your dear old, doting boyfriend and were eager to meet you.

His colleague, author David Rossi had told your boyfriend to invite you to dinner over in his big mansion. You’d almost said no, that maybe it was too soon but Spencer encouraged you and well, he was good at doing that.

He’d met you at your workplace, a bookstore no less. He’d been looking for a copy of Slaugherhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. when he’d spotted you in your natural habitat, putting more books on the shelves, dressed in an outfit you’d been comfortable in topped with converse and he was hooked.

He started coming up with excuses, just to see you and even had the courage to talk with you about where to find certain despite his excellent memory but you didn’t need to know about that, yet.

Eventually, you’d figured him out and decided to ask him out on a date to put an end to his misery.

And since then, you’d been going steady for just a few months. And it was an understatement to say that these had been the happiest few months of both of your lives.

However, there were still things you needed to figure out about each other.

Like, when it came to Spencer’s job, you knew to be supportive and realize that you weren’t the only person in the world that needed Spencer Reid. Or that you loved the winter season despite not being a big fan of Christmas.

But this was something new and something he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned about. When you left Rossi’s mansion that night with Spencer, arm in arm with him, you held your breath and kept looking around in the streetlights. He noticed it on the way into Rossi’s place as well. Spencer had parked a little far than intended but assured it wasn’t too far but you seemed to have another thing on your mind.

Eventually, Spencer brushed it off and chalked it up to you being anxious to meeting Spencer’s team.

But then it happened again. You’d both gone to the grocery store at eight o’clock, wanting to get snacks for the sleepover you’d wanted with him after a long hard week of work on both ends.

And the whole time you’d been shopping with Spencer, you’d been looking at the other customers and even tensed up on the way out at an older man sitting on a bench nearby with a grumpy look etched on his face. Spencer had also noticed how you clutched your taser in your hand until you both got to the car that night.

He’d asked you if you were okay but you gave him a small smile and assured to him — “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not used to going anywhere at night.”

And he’d had his answer. You didn’t like going anywhere at night. It was as simple as that.

But just to be sure it was nothing more, he began to secretly study you. And this was where he started to get concerned.

He began to notice how you often clutched his arm tightly while you two walked in the park and were by yourselves. He also noticed how you took your taser everywhere you went. And how you constantly looked over your shoulder, even if you were in a group of people. He also noticed how you never strayed far, keeping close to a big group and never went alone anywhere — unless it was work and even then, you took your taser with you.

Spencer even decided to ask Morgan to see if there was anything he could give him advice on and even Morgan didn’t know how to respond to that. “To be honest, I’ve never dealt with anything like that. The best thing you should do is just talk to her. See what’s up.”

So, Spencer waited. He waited until it happened again. And it did, you’d met up with him after work since you were going to his place tonight and you surprised him by going to the bureau — since Penelope had wanted to see you and who are you to deny the sweetest woman in the goddamn world?

He’d led you both back to the parking garage. And he noticed how even though the parking garage was empty, you still kept your guard up and kept looking over your shoulder.

So, as he drove back to his place in your car — he told you he was driving, no questions asked — he struggled with how to begin the conversation. You could tell something was up by the way he kept staring at you in the car. But he didn’t say a word.

And then, you both arrived back to his apartment and he still couldn’t say anything to you. I mean, he was talking to you but there was something behind his eyes that was holding something back.

It wasn’t until you both sat down on his couch, watching a movie and catching him stare at you every few minutes that you paused the movie and finally asked him what’s wrong.

Spencer crinkles his brows together, “What? Noth-Nothing’s wrong.” He tells.

“You’ve been staring at me since we left your workplace. And normally, I appreciate your gaze but right now, it’s freaking me out.” You explain and Spencer looks down, he never really did have a good poker face and he’d been known to slip up quite a few times. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Spencer opens his mouth but you rake your fingers through his chocolate locks and all rational thought seems to go out the window. But he knows that you guys need to have this conversation since you’ve confronted him on it now.

“Are you… okay?” Spencer starts subtly, hoping on this being a way to start the conversation about your recent behavior he’s noticed.

“I am great, Spencer. Are you okay?” You ask with a small smile. A smile he loves seeing on your face. A smile he appreciates and wants to see everyday. A smile he envisions seeing every night before he goes to bed. He nods, “I’m okay. It’s just…”

Spencer sighs and maybe it’s just time to rip off the bandaid. It’s time that you two need to talk about this like adults. Because this has gone on for too long and he’s starting to become worried.

“You’ve been acting a little… squirrelly lately. And I can’t help but notice that… every time we go somewhere at night, you’re more…” Guarded? Nervous? “On edge,” He chooses. “And you hold onto me a lot when we’re both out and— not-not that I’m complaining about that, I love when you do that but… I’m just starting to grow a little concerned because— I like you a lot. And I just want you to feel like you can talk to me if something is bothering you.”

You look at Spencer and you can tell he’s genuinely concerned and really does care about you. You’re kind of flattered that he’s noticed a lot about your behavior, despite it being a little troubling. You know it can be to other people. You’d avoided having this conversation with him, not wanting to burden him with it like other people have claimed that you have in the past. The people that had you’re no longer friends with anymore.

You sigh and you know that maybe it is best to talk to him about it. Spencer had never been one to judge and you knew that he would never ever say anything negative about your fears — however, the fear that he’d think you were overreacting was scary to face. Especially when Spencer was such a logical person already. But he wanted to know and maybe it’s best to speak out your truth.

“Okay, okay, okay,” You sit up a bit and he does the same. “But please do not say I’m overreacting or being overdramatic because I’ve dealt with that too many times already and I can’t handle it from you either.” You find yourself telling him and he shakes his head assuringly, “I’d never think that.”

You take a deep breath and look at him and all you can see on his face is adoration and concern and hopefulness. “Okay, uh…” Where do you start? “When I was sixteen, I… went to this Halloween party. And… it was my first party so I was excited. I went with a few friends and… only one of us knew how to drive at the time, so they went to go drop another one of our friends off because of her curfew and was going to come back.”

“Well, while she was gone, the party got raided by cops and a lot of people left. It was just me and this one friend standing on the sidewalk waiting for our friend to come back. But while we were waiting…” You pause, the memories coming back like a floodgate and you close your eyes. It was not a happy time in your life and you blocked it out of your memory for good reason.

Spencer could see you getting worked up about it and he puts his hand on your thigh, grounding you in a way you can’t explain. “You don’t have to do this or explain it to me if you don’t want to.” You shake your head, “No, you should know.”

Spencer almost pulls his hand away but you hold him there and he lets you, knowing that maybe you need to physical touch right now.

“We were waiting and this car… stopped right in the middle of the road and three people came out of the car, a girl and a couple of guys and they were all wearing these clown masks and… they tried to take our stuff. I thought it was just some joke so I just told my friend to ignore them and walk away but…” You pause once more and Spencer waits patiently for your sentence.

“The girl punched me. Hit me right in the nose.” Spencer winces at this, hating to imagine your pain in that moment. And he almost doesn’t want to hear the rest of the story. “Luckily, I didn’t go down. I, uh, almost tried to hit her, actually. But I didn’t know what she had, a knife, a gun… so I told my friend to run. And we both ran. That was the fastest I probably ever ran in my life. And there were these people nearby that heard us yelling and they helped us. All I remember is… my devil costume and… my nose bleeding all over my outfit. I don’t think I ever wore that skirt again.” Spencer’s heart physically hurts from that sentence alone.

“For a minute there, I felt weak. And… scared. I didn’t go anywhere alone for a while and it was bad. That friend ended up telling everyone what happened when I wanted to keep it quiet.” Spencer knows that your fierce nature never goes unnoticed by him. You were so tough, so free-willed. When you had issues with customers, they were often dealt with by your attitude and to put it lightly, you were a badass. To hear that you were vulnerable at one point made him sad because that wasn’t who he knew you as and he hated that someone made you feel weak.

“Did anyone ever find those people that did that to you?” Spencer asks, his tone calm and steady. You shake your head, “I told my parents and we filed a police report but… no one ever caught ‘em. Not to my knowledge anyway.” You inform.

“But I’ve gotten better with it, but I still keep my guard up. I hate that I have to look over my shoulder every time I’m out of the house, I hate that I have to take my taser everywhere I go, I hate dealing with this. But it’s my everyday life.” You tell and Spencer looks from the ground to you. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I just… didn’t want to be a burden on you,” You sigh. “And I felt like I didn’t need to say anything because most people don’t get it. Some actually laugh because of how I phrase it.”

“How you phrase it?” Spencer asks, clearly confused because what’s so funny about someone attempting a mugging on somebody? “I always say… I almost got mugged by a few clowns.” You find yourself sheepishly laughing but Spencer, however, doesn’t think it’s funny. “I just kinda started making a joke of it. I figure it’s the one thing I can do to deal with it. Dark humor, I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Spencer said. “Something worse could’ve happened to you. It’s already bad enough you got punched in the face.” He explained.

“It was a really long time ago, Spencer. I’m okay, now.” You remind him and he takes a sharp sigh, “I know. I just hate the fact that you went through that. That everyone makes a joke of it, that no one else seems to care about the fact that you got hurt when I care so much about that because you deserved better than how you got treated.”

You take a deep breath and a weight is off of your shoulders. Part of you is glad you shared that with Spencer finally but another part of you is scared to be transparent with him about your fears. But the way he’s reacting sets all of those fears aside. He was the person you needed when you were sixteen and suddenly, you want to turn back time and tell your teenage self that everything is gonna be just fine.

“You’re such a sweet and good person,” Spencer takes his hands to your face, holding you lovingly and close. “I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt someone as sweet as you.” He mutters to you.

Suddenly, you fall forward, holding him tightly in a hug and he accepts the hug rather quickly holding you. He feels as your dig your face deep and droplets on his neck. Are you crying?

He pulls back and looks at you face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “I’m—I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I don’t know why I’m crying…” Spencer gives you a soft look. “Sharing a truth, especially a difficult one, can make you feel vulnerable and exposed, leading to tears. It’s perfectly normal.” Spencer reminds you and you sniffle at this.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Spencer tells. “I know that wasn’t easy.” You nod, “You deserved to know. I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with but—” He interrupts you with a chaste kiss on your lips. He’s gentle and loving, in every way, shape and form. “You are very easy to love. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Spencer holds you close that night. You continued watching your movie and had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he kept his arm around protectively. He watched you as you slept, vowing to never let anything like what happened to you at sixteen, never happen to you again so long as he could help it. He’d protect you until the day he died. He’d take a bullet for you, catch a grenade for you, he’d sacrifice never speaking again if it meant saving you. He’d never let anyone hurt you or even dare to touch you.

And he’d wished to take your fears, your guard and your trauma away just to see you feel happy and carefree. He hates that it’s all so normalized with you because of what you went through. And he swears to make you feel as safe as you need to be while you’re out. He’ll start going to stores at night by himself, he’ll keep on being your knight in shining armor, he’ll keep being the protector you need him to be.

“I love you, Y/n,” He whispers, saying the words he’d dare not say until he was ready to say them to you. “And I will always protect you.”

[pucksandpower]

I Have Needs Too

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Summary: an old sports superstition claims that abstinence can help maximize athletes’ performance … your boyfriends decide to give it a try, much to your chagrin

Warnings: 18+ content

“I’m going to explode!” You whine dramatically, flopping down on the couch between your boyfriends. They exchange amused glances over your head.

“What’s wrong, love?” Lando asks gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You huff in frustration. “You know exactly what’s wrong! It’s been weeks since we ...” You trail off meaningfully, raising your eyebrows.

Oscar chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on now, it’s not been that bad.”

“Easy for you to say!” You retort. “You two have your racing to distract you. I’m stuck here all day, bored out of my mind and craving attention.” You pout at them.

Lando shakes his head in mock exasperation. “We talked about this, darling. The abstinence has really helped our performance lately.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “And I’m so proud of how well you both are driving this season. But ...” You bite your lip, gazing up at them beseechingly.

Oscar brushes a thumb over your cheek. “We understand it’s not easy, babe. But just be patient a little longer. We’re doing this for the team.”

You nod reluctantly, nestling into Oscar’s shoulder. His warmth and familiar scent are comforting, even as your body craves more.

“Why don’t we watch a movie to take your mind off it?” Lando suggests brightly, grabbing the remote.

You suppress a grumble. As if anything could distract you from the delicious men on either side of you. But you acquiesce for their sake, snuggling into Oscar’s side as Lando queues up an action comedy.

Twenty minutes in, you’re fidgeting restlessly, acutely aware of Oscar’s fingers trailing idly along your arm. You glance over at Lando to find him watching you, mirth dancing in his eyes. Your breath catches at the heat in his gaze.

Unable to resist, you reach over and trail a finger down his chest suggestively. Lando inhales sharply, his eyes darkening. Beside you, Oscar goes very still.

You bite your lip coyly. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this whole abstinence thing?”

Lando swallows hard, his eyes raking over you hungrily. For a moment you think he might give in. But then he shakes his head ruefully. “You know we can’t, love. Just try to be patient.”

You huff in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest. Oscar squeezes your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s only a few more weeks till the season ends.”

“A few weeks too many,” you grumble. “I have needs too, you know!”

Lando chuckles, the sound sending a spark down your spine. “Believe me, we know. And we intend to take very good care of those needs once the season’s over.” His heated gaze leaves no doubt as to his meaning.

You bite back a whimper, arousal coiling hot and heavy within you. “Promise?” You breathe.

“Promise,” Oscar murmurs lowly in your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

You suppress a shiver with effort, knowing you won’t get any further with them today. With a dramatic sigh, you settle back against Oscar, trying your best to focus on the movie.

But as the minutes tick by, you grow increasingly restless. Oscar’s solid warmth against your side only fuels your rising frustration. You shift, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an effort to relieve the building ache between your thighs.

Oscar glances down at you, one brow raised knowingly. “You alright there?”

You bite your lip. “I’m fine,” you reply tersely.

His mouth twitches in a hint of a smile and he resumes watching the movie, his arm a tantalizing weight across your shoulders.

You do your best to keep your eyes on the screen, but your thoughts keep drifting to much more pleasurable images — memories of your boys’ hands and mouths lavishing you with attention. You clench your thighs together, suppressing a whimper.

Gradually you become aware of your hand drifting higher up Oscar’s thigh, seemingly of its own accord. You freeze, snatching it back, your face flaming.

Oscar looks down at you, his brown eyes darkening subtly. “Y/N ...” he begins, a note of warning in his tone.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” you babble, avoiding his heated gaze. “I just … I can’t help it, Oscar, I need ...” You trail off helplessly.

His eyes soften and he brushes a stray lock of hair back from your face. “I understand, love. Just try to hang in there a little longer.”

You bite back a whine of frustration and force yourself to sit on your hands, determined not to let them wander again. But as the minutes pass, you grow more and more antsy and on edge. Your whole body feels like a live wire, hypersensitive and aching for their touch. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together again, seeking some form of relief, but it’s not nearly enough.

Abruptly you get to your feet, ignoring Oscar’s questioning look. “I just … need some air. I’ll be right back.” Before he can respond, you hurry from the room on shaky legs.

In the bedroom, you begin pacing agitatedly, running your hands through your hair. This is torture, plain and simple. You’ve never felt so pent-up and on edge in your life. Surely no one could expect you to hold out much longer under these conditions?

Your gaze falls on the bed and you freeze, a reckless idea taking shape in your mind. No … you couldn’t possibly … could you?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shut the door behind you as quietly as you can. Then you begin shedding your clothes hastily until you’re down to your underwear.

You stand there a moment, nibbling your lip uncertainly. But the throbbing ache between your legs wins out over your hesitation. Taking a deep breath, you slide your underwear off and climb onto the bed.

Propping some pillows up against the headboard, you lean back and let your legs fall open. Your fingers trail teasingly up your inner thighs and you have to suppress a needy whimper. Slowly, watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you begin to stroke along your slick folds.

A breathy moan escapes you at the exquisite sensation. After weeks of deprivation, your swollen flesh is so sensitive that the lightest touch sends spikes of pleasure through you. As you work yourself higher, you let your eyes slip closed, losing yourself in the building bliss.

You’re so consumed by sensation that you don’t hear the bedroom door open. But Oscar’s sharp intake of breath jolts you back to awareness. Your eyes fly open to see him standing frozen in the doorway, his shocked gaze riveted on where your fingers are buried between your legs.

Heat floods your cheeks but you don’t stop, biting your lip coyly. “I tried … I really did. But I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Oscar makes a strangled noise low in his throat, his eyes blazing. He takes a step into the room just as Lando comes up behind him.

“Oscar, what ...” Lando begins, then trails off as he peers over Oscar’s shoulder. “Bloody hell,” he breathes, his eyes going wide.

Your flush deepens at their rapt expressions but you hold their heated stares boldly. Oscar takes another step toward you, clenching his jaw.

“Y/N,” he warns in a strained voice. “What did we say about patience?”

You pout up at him beseechingly. “Please … don’t make me stop,” you whimper.

Groaning under his breath, Oscar rakes a hand through his hair. You can see his restraint hanging by a thread. Lando moves up behind him, gripping his shoulders.

“How can we resist when she tempts us so sweetly?” Lando murmurs.

Their hungry eyes devouring you makes moisture flood your aching core. Emboldened, you spread your legs wider, giving them an unobstructed view. Oscar makes a choked noise, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns through gritted teeth. But his eyes are riveted on your fingers sliding slickly along your slippery folds.

Your strokes increase in urgency as your climax builds, whimpers escaping your lips. “Please,” you gasp pleadingly. “I need you ...”

With a growled curse, Oscar surges forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His body covers yours and you sigh in bliss, finally getting what you crave. His tongue plunges past your lips, tangling fiercely with yours. You can feel his restraint hanging by a thread in the urgency of his kiss.

Lando joins in moments later, his clever hands trailing fire over your sensitized skin. Caught between the two of them, you’re surrounded by hard muscle and greedy mouths. The sweet relief of their touch after so long has you reeling.

You clutch desperately at Oscar’s back, urging him closer between your thighs. But he resists, keeping maddening inches between your bodies.

Pulling back from the kiss, his eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but firm. “Not yet, babe. You’ve been a naughty girl. Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

You whine in frustration, arching up against him beseechingly. But Oscar grasps your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head.

“Ah ah, patience,” he chides with a smirk.

Lando chuckles, trailing kisses down between your breasts. “Our minx deserves a bit of torment, I’d say.”

You whimper as their hands and mouths worship every inch of you except where you need them most. They lavish attention on your breasts, your neck, your inner thighs — everywhere except for your poor aching and dripping core.

“Please,” you gasp, writhing beneath their exquisite torture.

Lando looks up at you from between your thighs, eyes dancing wickedly. “Tell me, do you regret being a brat yet, darling?”

You shake your head desperately. Oscar tsks, tweaking a stiff nipple to make you arch sharply. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson quite yet.”

They continue driving you right up to the brink only to back off again and again, keeping you suspended in agonizing arousal. You’re a writhing, pleading mess beneath their skillful touches.

Just when you think you can’t take another second, Oscar’s fingers finally find your slick heat. You cry out sharply, cradled between them as he strokes you with knowing skill. Lando’s teeth graze the tender spot on your neck and you shudder, right on the precipice.

“That’s it, let go for us,” Lando rasps in your ear. His voice combined with Oscar’s relentless rhythm pushes you over the edge with a breathless wail.

You’re still trembling through aftershocks when Oscar captures your mouth again, kissing you deeply as his hands fumble at his belt. Understanding dawns through the pleasured fog in your mind and you still his movements with a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” you gasp out. At his bewildered look you offer a coy smile. “You two still have your little abstinence pact to uphold. Can’t have you breaking it on my account.”

Oscar stares at you incredulously for a moment before huffing out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Lando groans behind you. “Y/N, love, don’t be cruel ...”

You silence him with a finger to his lips, giving them both a mock stern look. “What? You made a commitment. I won’t have you compromising your performance for me.”

They gape at you in sexual frustration and dismay. Taking pity, you lean in and place a placating peck on each of their cheeks.

“There now, that will have to hold you over. Only a few more weeks till the season ends!” You pat their shoulders consolingly before sliding off the bed on shaky legs. Sashaying your hips, you head for the bathroom, their heated stares like a brand on your bare skin.

Pausing in the doorway, you glance back alluringly. “Of course, once the season ends, we can all properly celebrate … if you’re good boys for me.” You shoot them a cheeky wink over your shoulder, “Cold showers might help until then.”

You suspect you’ll pay dearly for such exquisite torture later on. But their reactions were well worth it. And the countdown to the end of the season has never seemed sweeter.

[makeupbychio]

THE suit // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Now that you are officially part of the x-men team you need a suit. After the help from Hank and Charles to make the suit you kept the final result as a secret to Logan until he saw you in your first mission in THE suit. More than one time you needed more than one suit, not just because Logan will rip off a lot of them, but for other reasons. 

Warnings: Jealous Logan and being a little bit of a brat, Hank and Charles cameo, insecurity towards your body and powers, use of your powers (ecokinesis), Logan being the best protective and comforting boyfriend, mentions of smut, suggestive language, mentions of pregnancy.

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: So thanks for the anon for the request!! Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language. I put angst, fluff and mentions of smut so I hope you like this. Also, reminder that this is a safe place for all body sizes so that's why I don’t mention specifics measurements for the suit. ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them days after you are officially an x-men. Enjoy, love y’all!! <3. 

italics = past. 

— — —

“Hold on, wait. Hank is going to do your suit?” Logan stopped the conversation. You two at the cafeteria grabbing a late night snack. You took the pause to give a bite to your apple. 

“What about it? The Professor told me Hank did all of them” you answered him without any worry in your mind and didn't  understand why he had that frowning look on his face.

”I think Storm should be in charge since your powers are related to nature too”. Logan suggested, trying not to be an asshole. You understand where this was going when he sighed. 

“But Lo, the Professor designed the suits, Hank is just going to sew it and for that he needs to take the correct measurements” you refreshed Logan’s mind, like if it wasn’t obvious that a suit was not going to sew it itself. 

So after that Logan just stopped insisting about it. He trusted Hank of course but something was itching his brain. If he knew you already had an appointment with Hank last week to take the first measurement and the Professor explaining to you how he designed it for you and your powers. 

“So, Y/N. If you didn’t know, Hank came up with the idea to make the suits bulletproof and for your powers we needed to incorporate more resistance to heat changes in case your whole body is on fire or ice. So we needed to play with all of the opposite and different scenarios of the element you were going to manipulate or become, please try it on”. Charles explained to you the work behind your suit. You just nodded, but the Professor can read your mind and know your excitement when you ran to change your clothes and came back with the suit on.

“So you can basically turn into stone one moment and then disappear like air, so we create something that can resist that range of changes, and also of course something to be comfortable for you”. Hank added, proud of the technology he put in the suit while you looked at yourself in the mirror. “You can try it and test what I’m talking about”. 

So you did it, always careful not to hurt them. They were so happy with the final results and you couldn’t thank them enough and can’t wait any longer to wear it. 

“See you next week, Y/N”. The Professor reminded you about the final meeting to correct some details. 

So after that late snack, you both went to bed and before your appointment with Hank, Logan just stopped by his office and greeted him with a casual smile. 

“Logan, how can I help you? Y/N is not here” Hank thought he was there to be with you once you tried on your suit. 

“Don’t worry, she’s still in bed sleeping in our room” Logan gave a cocky smile and highlighted the ‘our’. “Actually I’m here to help YOU. In case you needed help with her suit, just to let you know that I made you a list of her measurements” Logan handed him a piece of paper with the different sizes of the clothes you have. He really thought that was going to work. “You’re welcome, so you don’t have to take the measurements yourself” He smiles proud of himself. 

Hank laughed and didn’t want to ruin Logan’s intention. He just thanked him, if Logan knew the suit was ready in the lab for you to try it and make the last changes. 

“Oh! I almost forgot” Logan turned to Hank before leaving his office. “She’s the smartest person I know, don’t get offended so I’m pretty sure she’s going to give you some ideas for the suit” he made a pause imagining you giving instructions to Hank. “And her favorite color is purple” Logan finally leaves the room without letting Hank answer. Heading himself to the dining room proud of his work. 

Hours later, you went directly to the lab where Hank and the Professor told you to meet. “Okay Y/N so tell us how you feel it, if you want to change something” Hank looked at you looking in the mirror. 

It was really comfortable even when it was really tight to your body. You felt so much confidence, you saw the x mark on it, that wasn’t on the suit the last meeting you had. Also it made justice to your figure and your beautiful curves. 

“Thanks again, it fits perfectly. But Hank I just wanted to ask you if it’s possible if you could add something to the suit…” Hank is paying attention to you. “If there could be like- I don’t know- something for you guys to know which element I’m manipulating or about to, so you don’t get yourself hurt out there during a mission” you asked him nervously because they are the experts.

”Mmmhh, it’s a really good idea but the enemy can use that information too against us to advance an attack” Hank really liked the idea but they had a surprise for you. 

“So dear, we also wanted for you to try this suit too” the Professor went to reach the suit he was talking about. Hiding it inside a box that was wrapped like a gift. 

“Guys, what is this?” you were in total awe when you opened the box. They know how easily you get emotional. Tears are already forming in your eyes. 

“We wanted for you to have your own suit, something that will be just for YOU…” Hank started explaining. “All of us have something that characterizes ourselves and our powers, so someone told us your favorite color is purple and it contrasts perfectly the green that represents your powers…” Hanks kept talking because you went speechless. “I know it sounds cliché to add green for your ecokinesis, if you don’t like it we can change it” he suggested.

You just ran to hug them because it was perfect. “So for your ideas you gave us, we design this…” the Professor handed you another box, but this time smaller. You opened it so fast. “We created these gloves for the changes of elements. So you can use it in the field or on a daily basis” you tried on them immediately and it blew your mind the technology it has, how it’s connected to you to change the colors related to the element, it sparkles so that makes them AMAZING.

“The gloves are more for the missions, because with the suit you hold your powers in case you are not conscious. Also the gloves help you to give your attack a precise target. We’ll learn more about both items while training” Hank explained. 

So when you first wore the x-men suit, you were so nervous about the mission, about everything so you changed clothes in your room. Thinking if this was a good idea. Literally everyone was waiting for you to step into the plane. 

“I’m going” Storm was about to go and search for you when you stepped into the ship. “There you are! K’ let’s go” Storm yelled at Scott to go.

Logan almost fainted, his claws making an appearance without previous warning. He quickly put them back, he was so excited he couldn’t resist to stay close to you. His flirting helped you to stop your nerves. “Sugar, you look amazing…” he gave you a kiss on your check, sitting next to you on the ship. He came closer to your face, whispering “I hope they made like a hundred suits because as soon as we're back in the mansion I’m going to rip it off. God, I can’t wait” You tried to hide the redness of your face, you warned him to behave. 

“Logan, I’m pretty sure the Professor can read your mind, I don’t want to be kicked out of the missions. Or give us separated missions. Do you want me to be paired with Scott instead?” you asked him with a teasing smile. 

“I’m sorry, love. But did you see yourself in the mirror before coming?” Logan really insisted but not too much. “Don’t worry, you’re going to kick asses today and I’ll protect you till the end of times” 

Like I said before, Logan after that would take any opportunity to join you for fittings. Especially if something is different. Logan would be there next to you when you are not comfortable with your body. If you are not comfortable with your powers every time you discover something new about them. After years, he will always be there for you, sitting in front of you looking at you with awe and comforting you even when you’re were not feeling it. 

The only time you skipped a mission was when your suit was not crossing your figure. You tried on your x-men suit and your own suit they made you and it was not stretching enough. The team was on a rush so they let you stay at the mansion. 

Logan asked you when they were back about what happened and you just told him you were feeling under the weather. The Professor already knew the real reason. You distracted Logan enough for you to go to Hank's office. 

“Hi, Hank. Can I ask you something?” you stepped into the room worried. Hank welcomed you worried about your absence in the last mission. “I had a problem with the suit, actually both suits. Is it possible for the fabric to be even more stretchable?” you asked him. 

Next day, after telling Logan the truth about you expecting and how suddenly a big bump you had appeared. That time he almost fainted too. So both of you were in the lab, the Professor and Hank giving you the congratulations when Hank was taking notes of your new measurements for your suits.

“Be careful there, big boy” Logan growled at Hank when he put the measuring tape around your belly. Logan was so protective over you and now your baby. You laughed at him telling not to worry, Logan looking at you with charming eyes while you rub your belly looking at yourself in the mirror. So this was really happening, starting a family.

Hank explained to you your new suits, which were going to be more comfortable for you considering the bump was going to grow even more. But the only thing Logan could think about is to protect you even more out there in the field. 

“Lo, look at me. I can do this” you hold his face when back in the room he told you to reject some missions that were too dangerous just to be cautious. He was scared that if you got injured really bad in your state. He was not going to stop you from going to the missions, because he knows you are one of the strongest and with a single snap you can beat your enemy but he can’t help himself from worrying. “And if I’m not feeling good or at my best to fight I’ll stay here”. you kissed him to calm him down. 

“I know, mama. You are the baddest out there. They could never beat you even if they tried” Logan kissed you back and kneeled to kiss your belly. “I wonder which powers our baby is going to inherit”. Next time Logan went to Hank’s office was to ask for a tiny x-men suit to surprise you. Hank couldn’t say no to Logan because he found a really cute gesture from him even when he had a lot of work left to do. 

[thepersonnamedsam]

grin to win - the genz!driver

pairing: the genz!driver x 24!grid (pre and during singapore)

summary: it’s the gzd first ever win, but getting there was a bumpy road

word count: 4.3k

warning: not proof read and some angst, talks about not feeling enough and all that

note: i am so sorry for not having updated in such a long time, i do hope you still like my stuff :)

masterlist / taglist

it has been weeks since our beloved gen-z driver has had a positive experience. silly season started earlier than she thought - daniel was rumoured to be dropped soon. max hasn’t won for a long time, she wasn’t sure if that’s positive or negative, but she feels sorry for her favourite dutch. carlos finally announced he’s signed with williams.

oh, and logan’s been dropped.

oliver is driving for haas next year. mclaren overtook redbull in the constructors championship. lando has started his transition to mad-lando (get it? because he’s starting to drive like mad-max? anyway). kimi signed with mercedes.

but there weren’t any news surrounding y/n. nothing negative, but also nothing positive. no rumours of her signing with a new team, or staying at her current team. her contract will run out at the end of the season.

she hasn’t heard from her team ceo or principal yet. she wasn’t underperforming, no she’s just performing as expected. but also not doing better.

she needed that something. that something that reassured her, that she’s in the right place. she needed at least a podium this season. that’s what she was telling herself for the last weeks. beating herself up, every time she didn’t perform well enough (in her eyes, we have to say. because if you looked at it from a neutral view, she was doing more than fine).

the stress has been eating her up. she was staying longer at the gym, eating less, seeing the guys less, not seeing her friends or family. even her boyfriend broke up with her, because she’s been ignoring him and focusing too much on her racing.

lewis was the first one to suspect something, knowing this behaviour all to well from himself. but he didn’t know what to do. should he ask her about it or say something to someone professional?

the first thing he did was tell george. george usually knew what to do. except this time.

„lew, im sorry man, i don’t know what do do“, he sighed and looked over to his teammate. „we could just tell the principal, but i don’t know if we‘ll brake her trust this way.“

„she just needs to see, that she’s good enough, i know that that’s the issue she’s having right now“, said lewis to george.

the taller one just shrugged, „maybe we should just, you know, talk to her“, he suggested.

lewis agreed, but he was sure, that he was the wrong person to talk to y/n. that’s why he called seb.

and as her phone started to ring and her favourite picture of her and seb appeared on her screen, she instantly knew, that someone noticed her weird behaviour. why else would sebastian call during race week?

with a heavy sigh she picked up her phone and tried to sound as happy as possible as she said: „hi seb! what’s going on?“

the german scrunched up his face as he heard the rather happy voice of the young girl. „hi there, pretty lady. i heard you’ve been absent lately“, he said softly.

the moment y/n heard her current situation from someone else, her tears fell. she didn’t think that it’d effect her this much, someone knowing what’s been going on lately, but it did.

„how do you know?“, she sniffled. her cries broke sebs heart, he could only imagine how his daughter’s future teenage cries would take him out.

„a birdie noticed and told me, hun.“ - „who was it? tell me it wasn’t my ex, because that bloody pig told me, if i couldn’t care enough about him, he wouldn’t care about me and if he called you, that means he’d still care about me and that would only make me feel more guilt over the whole situation“, y/n started to ramble.

„hey hey, no, it wasn’t him“, seb stopped her rambling. „i won’t tell you who, im just gonna tell you, as someone standing on the sidelines, you’re doing more than fine, okay?“

she shook her head no, even though the retired driver couldn’t see her. „no im not, everybody’s getting to sign their new contract or has been rumoured to be let go, but nothings happening with me“, she sighed.

seb told her, that this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, that teams usually like to torture their drivers to see how far they’re willing to push. and that she just had to let the team get to her and not assume anything.

„but what if it’s like the situation with daniel? or logan? what if it’s the same with me?“

„then so be it, you can come to switzerland for a few weeks, we‘ll forget the whole thing and organise something new, it’s as easy as that“, seb told her.

„and honestly, y/n, you’re not being dropped, or rumours would have already been going around. as i said, just go with the flow.“

that’s what she tried. she tried to engage more with the other drivers. she tried to enjoy little things like eating chocolate.

she started to regularly talk with seb and talk about her feelings and worries - which helped her a lot.

and as time flew by, she got back into her zone. back into that racing mode, back into the fight.

it was singapore, hot and humid, but she was ready to fight. right before qualifying lewis visited her garage. looking relieved to see her spirits back where they belong.

„kiddo, you ready?“, he asked. y/n grinned at him and threw two thumps up. „good“, he murmured.

„good luck!“, he shouted. „you too, you’re gonna need it with my pace“, she laughed back.

„i hope so“, whispered the mercedes driver. „i really hope so.“

y/n sat in her car, she felt that something good would be happening. she never felt this ready for qualifying before.

q1 and q2 went by as a breeze. her lap times were phenomenal, she’s done better, but they were still great. easing into q3 with a good feeling and good lap times.

„y/n, you’ve been doing great out there, don’t push yourself too much, okay? i’ll tell you when to give it your all. we’re going for the front row“, her race engineer told her.

front row, that was really something.

„you think we can do it?“, she asked nervously. „i think that you can do it.“

with that statement she drove out of the garage onto the track. driving some laps to warm up her tyres. feeling the track and the car. she took a deep breath in and let it out and waited for her race engineer to giver her their sign.

tears stained her cheeks as she got out of the car. everything was blurry. confusion was written on her face. qualifying just ended and she will start the race from p2 on sunday.

she couldn’t believe it, neither could her team or to be honest, every other driver on the grid.

journalist started to surround the garage, friends of the young girl had trouble getting to her. the first one who made it through the masses, was oscar.

as soon as she saw him, she started screaming; „oscar! can you believe it?“

the aussy looked at the girl, or rather young woman, and only grinned at her. „you’re giving me the creeps with that smile, os“, y/n giggled. „you look like the joker, who are you about to murder?“

„the one who’s been making you feel worthless, but that’s a different story“, he half whispered half sighed.

the young driver had to sigh, she knew the other drivers had caught on her emotions. but she didn’t think, that they’d know in this detail.

y/n grinned through the pang and hugged the australian. „thanks for being there for me“, she whispered.

the moment oscar wanted to say something sentimental, his teammate barged through the journalists and jumped on them both.

„i cannot believe it! my best friend, starting front row, my goodness“, he exhaled and inhaled again: „together! we’re starting front row together!“

y/n giggled once again, she felt, that this wasn’t the last giggle of the day. „will you let me pass?“, she asked jokingly.

lando looked shocked: „are you kidding me? nuh-uh, no way in hell will i let you pass, now that im a race winner, you’ll have to earn it fair and square!“

„fair“, oscar laughed. y/n shoved oscar outraged. „you’re on his side?“ - „i am a race winner too, you know?“

„indeed he is“, carlos called from the end of the garage. „oi, this isn’t your garage“, a mechanic of her team shouted, „this isn’t all of you guys‘ garage“, he said, as he realised two more drivers were present.

„let’s go, we‘re going to some hospitality or something“, y/n suggested. with an apologetic look towards the mechanics, the drivers left the garage.

„i’ll update the groupchat and tell them where we are“, lando mumbled. oscar’s and carlos‘ phone dinged, but y/n‘s was left out.

„wait, what groupchat did you text?“, she asked confused. „the one about you’re crisis-“ lando just saw carlos‘ and oscar’s head shacking no, as he slowly finished his sentence, realising his mistake, „-without you in it.“

„what?“ - „lewis and seb created a groupchat, to discuss some tips on how to lift your spirits, s‘all“, oscar slowly explained.

„okay“, said the female driver slowly. „thanks, i guess?“

„wait, so you all knew? i mean i kind of suspected you knowing, but you all knew? and what did you discuss?“

the three drivers thought carefully about their next words. carlos was the first to speak out: „nothing really. lewis just told us, that your behaviour reminded him of himself when he first joined mercedes and seb just told us, that he was talking with you about it and just kind of updated us.“

„y/n you’re very important to all of us, we love you and want you to be well. if somethings going on, we worry about you and want to fix it“, oscar supplemented.

„why didn’t you tell us?“ lando was the last to speak. his voice full of hurt. „oh lando, im sorry, i didn’t want to bother all of you with my shit“, she admitted.

daniel could see the falling tears on her face from far away. he could also see the many cameras realising their existence. he sprinted over to the four, to mainly shield them from the media, but his weird running drew more attention to the drivers.

„hi there, don’t cry, cameras“, he huffed. the little smile came back to y/n‘s face, as she looked at daniel’s red and out of breath face.

„hey i thought you were a high performance athlete?“, she smiled and wiped away her tears. „i am, athletes sweat, baby“, daniel said.

„i heard that that’s your last race, is it true, danny?“, she changed the topic from herself to the smiley australian.

„don’t change the topic, girly“, he smiled sincerely. „there’s no truth, until you get that breaking post on insta.“

„hey, but front row, huh? how nice does it feel?“, he asked her. still on the move, she nearly tripped, not only over her next sentence, but also over a curb; „very good but also kinda scary.“

„i got lando here in front of me and max behind me, just a little bit scary“, she elaborated further.

at the mention of the dutch, he appeared in front of the group suddenly. „i heard my name, what’s going on?“

„i get it, max is scary“, oscar whispered more to himself. „dude, how’d you do that?“, lando asked impressed.

„magic“, max waved his hand in front of his face and laughed. he high five’d y/n next and smiled at the other drivers.

„max is scary when he smiles“, said oscar slow and quietly towards lando, who agreed soundlessly. „hey, watch it“, max then pointed out.

on the other side, daniel was standing close to y/n, studying every twitch on her face. looking at carlos they silently communicated. the older two each grabbed a hand of hers and pulled her towards the next hospitality.

as usual, lando, max and oscar didn’t notice the other three‘s disappearance.

the two mercedes drivers, fernando and charles were already waiting. as soon as the female driver noticed lewis‘ braids, she sprinted towards him.

he though that she would gleefully hug him, but thought differently. with an angry step she stood in front of him. „how dare you make a groupchat about my feelings!“, she pointed a finger at his chest.

although she was small, she was fearful. her finger digging painfully into his chest, twisting every other second.

the older driver caved under her touch and slouched: „i’m so sorry, i just wanted to help.“

„by creating a groupchat? you could’ve just talked to me“, she sighed. „i know, but i thought i wasn’t the right person“, he admitted. „lew, you’re always the right person to talk to me“, she smiled lightly, „don’t ever do that again though!“

„okay“, he agreed, „but front row, love! how excited are you?“

and then she explained her thoughts all over again. noticing max not being here to make a scary entrance again. she explained happily, how the dutch suddenly appeared in front of her and how he reminded her of the flying dutch.

george and nando stood there listening to their favourite driver and grinned at her expressions and exclamations. her arms were up in the air, face twisted to match each of her words.

if that young woman would not be like this ever again, they swore to change the whole world for her.

„i’ll miss her“, daniel whispered to lewis. „oh buddy, it’s official then, this your last race?“

daniel nodded: „they have to recruite liam or he’s free to whichever team signs him.“ lewis looked at his friend, they’ve known each other for so long. it‘ll be weird without the australian on the grid.

„does she know?“, he then asked. „no, wouldn’t want to jinx anything and take her spirits away“, daniel hummed. „i get it, you have to tell her after the race though. wouldn’t be fair if she found out through insta.“

oscar, lando and max then trailed in with pierre, alex and charles. looking at the scene in front of them;

y/n telling some sort of story with fernando and george watching them and lewis with daniel standing on the side talking with hushed voices.

„we should celebrate“, lando said out of the blue. the female driver gasped upon hearing the random suggestion and turned around to face her best friend.

„yes, oh my god, that is such a good idea“, she excitedly said. „what should we do?“

charles said, that they could order pizza. pierre disagreed and said, that they should rent out a restaurant and eat authentic food. oscar thinks, that they should treat themselves with some spa time (they think, that lily really has a grip on that man).

lando suggested they’d go to the cinema. carlos said, that they should just go back to the hotel and do a relaxing movie night. lewis suggested they take a stroll with roscoe and leo. max thought some laps on the sim would be enough to celebrate.

george thought, that exploring singapore would be fun. fernando was just happy to tag along. daniel wanted to go swimming somewhere. and y/n, she really wanted to bury her face in ice cream and enjoy the time with her boys.

so that’s what they did. bought loads of ice cream, rented some movies at her hotel, turned her room into a home cinema and ordered some pizza too, just for fun. and of course roscoe had to stay there too.

after all that celebration, y/n was so tired, she fell asleep on fernando. he gushed and ushered the others to take some pics.

after tucking her in, setting the alarm for the next day, they all bid their goodbyes and left y/n alone. except lando - he stayed.

he was her best friend after all and he had to talk about all of the stuff with her. but it could wait until the morning, he was pretty tired himself.

as the alarm clock rang, y/n jolted up, confused as to where she was. seeing her hotel room, she remembered yesterday and what they did. she then felt someone moving beside her, turning around she saw a head full of curls and knew not to worry.

„lando, what are you doing here?“, she giggled. the mclaren driver groaned and stuffed his face into the pillow. „i have to talk about the stuff with you“, he then said.

„and you had to stay here why?“ - „because i knew i wouldn’t catch you before you would leave for the paddock, only logical solution was to stay here with you“, he finally lifted up his head and grinned at his best friend.

she laughed a little and ruffled up his hair. „you’re cute, but we don’t need to talk.“

he shook his head and made some grunting noises, disagreeing with her statement. „but we do, i need to talk about it.“

she told him everything he wanted to know. from the first time she thought she was not enough, to the phone calls with seb and to her feeling better over time.

„just promise me you’ll talk to me next time, okay?“, he begged her at the end of their conversation. she nodded. „say it, say that you’ll talk to me.“ - „i will, i will talk to you, lando, i promise.“

„good, but now, let’s get ready to race“, he grinned and changed the subject. y/n almost forgot, that they had a race to drive. and that she was starting from p2! „let’s go“, she excitedly said.

the day almost went by like a blur. the two arrived at the paddock, parted ways at her garage, bid good luck to each other.

she started her training session? warmed up with her trainer, ate some food, went to the toilet, that’s important. and then she already had to attempt the drivers parade.

she has never felt this nervous before. standing on that wagon, waving to the fans, not wanting to let anyone down, but mostly not herself.

the compulsive thoughts were coming back and she tried to remember what seb taught her. she breathed in for eight seconds, held her breath for seven, breathed out for eight again and held for seven. she repeated the box breathing method and tried to focus on the here and now.

lando saw her struggling to maintain a happy face and went over to her. „s‘all good?“, he asked in a hushed voice.

she nodded softly; „just trying to stay in the moment and not drift too far into the future.“

lando nodded, kind of understanding what she meant and just stayed by her side until the parade was over. as they parted ways for the second time that day, he hugged her and wished her only the best of luck.

her pre-race-ritual was listening to music, so she whipped out her headphones and blasted her loudest music on her playlist.

she almost jumped as her race engineer tapped her shoulder, to inform her that it was time to get into the car.

even though the first half of the day felt sped up, now everything was moving in slow motion.

she felt like james bond or any other action movie hero. her headphones still blasting music, she imagined herself looking total badass getting into her car.

step by step, nodding her head along to the music. arms flung up into the air to squeeze herself into the car. she mouthed some of the words as a mechanic gave her her steering wheel.

slowly she placed it into the socket and clicked it into it. still, everyone was moving in slow motion. she closed her eyes for a second, just trying to find her inner peace.

the music faded, she concentrated on her heartbeat. feeling it slow down, beat per beat. as she opened her eyes, the world was back to normal speed.

she took off her headphones, handed them to someone standing around the car. she lifted up her gloves, put them on and clapped her hands together.

„let’s get going then, ey?“, y/n then said to her crew. no clear answer came back, just some reassuring noises from around.

her helmet was laying in front of her, she looked at her drivers number, traced it with her finger and swiftly put it on.

the car was then rolled on to the track, everything was buzzing. she heard her race engineer checking the coms. hustling around her were all of the mechanics.

y/n went over the track once again. she knew every corner, she felt every bump on the road. her body knew when to turn, when to slow down or speed up. she knew what to do, this was her race.

she proved it by overtaking lando on corner one, lap one. right after the start there was a new race leader and they were called y/n l/n.

a woman was leading a formula one race.

she took off, she didn’t have to think about it, it was all muscle memory.

little did she know, lando was cheering behind her. even max was grinning like a mad man. for once both of them were content with not winning.

history was made on that day. as y/n crossed that finish line she couldn’t believe what was happening.

„y/n l/n, you are a formula one grand prix winner!“, she just heard her race engineer through her coms.

„and there it is, the first woman to win an f1 race, can you believe that we’ve just witnessed history?“

„i cannot, oh this is just fantastic! y/n proved that she could win, even with a mediocre car, just imagine her in a redbull or ferrari. this is beautiful, unbelievable.“

the female drivers head was spinning. what does she have to do now? in her whole career she only had one podium. but she was pumped with adrenaline that moment, she really just can’t recall what she has to do now.

she figured she’d just follow lando in her car and behold, she ended up at parc fermé. parking her car in front of the stand with the number one on it, she climbed out of it.

fuck, what cool pose was she gonna do? she hadn’t thought about that. just, improvise, she thought.

i’d will be embarrassing either way, she thought next. she took out her steering wheel, disconnected her helmet from the car and coms and jumped out of the car.

and then she just fell to her knees. at first sobbing into her helmet and not believing everything that has happened so far.

but the sobs quickly turned into laughter. she bowed, just like sebastian did, in front of her car.

sighing with happiness she stood up from the ground. lando came running to her, scooping her up and basically throwing her around.

„my god, you did it! you really did it!“

that was the actual moment, y/n realised what just had happened. that she had just won a grand prix. that she had just written history. that she had just done it.

max was coming from the other side, almost skipping. when have you ever seen max verstappen skipping?

„oh wow, this must feel so great, huh?“, he asked. „like a mountain falling from my shoulders actually“, she said.

she wanted to say so much more, but she was pulled aside to weigh. that procedure she knew. and then, there was her team, ready to celebrate the young driver.

just like lando, she sprinted towards them and jumped into the team. she was lifted up, chants were heard throughout the whole parc fermé.

„congratulations y/n, i knew you’d write history one day“, her team principal congratulated her.

from the side of her eye she saw christian horner giving her two thumps up. the next moment he mouthed: „let’s talk.“

does this mean? oh my god.

her chain of thoughts were broken, as lando pulled her along in to the cool down room.

she laid her helmet on the pillar and took the pirelli hat from the stand. her heart had finally time to calm down.

max and lando were grinning like crazy, as they approached the young girl woman. „congratulations, y/n, well done, perfect driving, couldn’t have done it better myself“, max told her. „ahhh, we’re both race winners!“, lando then shouted.

„that’s true! oh my god, i can’t believe it, and in the same season, high five!“

„who do i spray with my champagne, you or max?“, she suddenly asked. both men laughed at her question. „you spray whoever you want.“

so that’s what she did. before that, she closed her eyes at the national anthem. quietly sang along. never felt this much pride before. received the trophy and placed it far, far away from lando and shook that chanpagne bottle to spray all of the people present at the podium.

she took a swig of the god awful champagne, she remembered from last time how nasty it tasted. and she held her promise she once had with daniel.

at her first win, she would do a shoey, without any hesitation. she took of her sweaty shoes, sat down on the podium, filled the shoe up to the rim, hopefully the first sip would have the least amount of sweat and just started chugging it.

if you were present that day, you heard daniel ricciardo shouting and yelling at her from parc fermé. his whistling may have been recorded by the cameras, but who knows, the whole world was whistling for her in that moment.

nothing would ever beat that feeling ever again. drenched in sweat and champagne, chugged the mix of it and a heart full of love in that moment. she grinned at her win.

°°°

taglist: i feel like, im not gonna tag anyone for this, bc i haven’t posted in such a long time and i don’t wanna bother anyone…

so if you’re on my taglist and don’t want to be on it anymore, just post a comment under this and i’ll remove you :)

[satoruswifeyyyy]

satoru gojo is the type of boyfriend to...

masterlist

warnings ⚠️: milf sexual content

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “accidentally” misplace your things at his place so you have to stay longer. oh, your phone charger? lost. your keys? vanished. and he’ll play innocent, looking around like, “wow, weird. guess you’re staying the night!”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to wrap you in a blanket, squish you onto the couch, and play your favorite show when you tell him you’re tired, instead of comforting you. but the catch? he’s sitting right next to you with his big eyes glued on you and will pause every 10 seconds to ask, “are you feeling better yet? how about now?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to remember every little thing you say, so if you mention craving something like a specific pastry or even a seasonal candle, he’ll go to five different stores to find it. and he’ll show up at your door, grinning like a kid, saying, “for my favorite person in the world.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to take every opportunity to show you off. even if it’s just a casual dinner with friends, he’ll find a way to work in how amazing you are, beaming as he watches you blush. he’ll say things like, “you know she’s basically a genius, right? i'm just here for the good looks.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to randomly pull you close in the middle of a crowded street, spinning you around just because. when you ask why, he’ll just shrug and say, “you looked too cute, i couldn’t resist.” he loves making you laugh and seeing you all flustered.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to to whisper sweet things in your ear, even in the middle of a crowd. he’ll lean in and say something like, “do you know how incredible you look today?” just to see you smile, and then he’ll pretend it was nothing when you look back, eyes twinkling.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to go out of his way to pamper you, running his fingers through your hair, bringing you your favorite snacks, and whispering, “I’ll always be here. You know that, right?” , when you tell him you are not feeling well.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to be your personal cheerleader, hyping you up for even the smallest things. got through a tough day? he’s there with chocolates and a whole pep talk ready. and he’ll proudly tell you, “no one can make it look as easy as you do.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to never let a day go by without reminding you he loves you. sometimes it’s a grand declaration with his arms wide open, and other times, it’s a soft whisper before you fall asleep. and he’ll say, “just so you never forget, okay?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sit tightly and refuse to move, if you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder, even if his arm goes numb. he’ll sit there, smiling like an idiot, staring at you with this soft, mesmerized look, thinking, “how did I get so lucky?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to insist on walking you home, every single time. he’ll joke that he’s “keeping you safe from imaginary threats,” but the truth is he just loves spending those last few moments with you, holding your hand and pretending he has all the time in the world.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “borrow” your favorite scent to keep with him. he’d “accidentally” swipe your hoodie or spray your perfume on his shirt just so he can feel close to you, especially when you’re not there. when you ask him about it, he’ll shrug and say, “hey, it just reminds me of you. can you blame me?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to leave you voice messages with the sweetest goodnight wishes, describing how he can’t wait to see you tomorrow and how he feels lucky to have you. he’ll say, “i hope you know you’re always on my mind, even when we’re apart,” and you can hear that little softness in his voice that he usually hides.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to make every anniversary a huge deal, no matter how small. he’ll show up with your favorite flowers, make dinner reservations, or even do something totally spontaneous like renting out a whole theater to watch your favorite movie together, because “you deserve the world, and i’m giving you the closest thing to it.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to playfully write “mr. and mrs.” on random papers or text you with your name combined with his last name. when you roll your eyes, he’ll laugh and say, “just a little practice for the future, right?” and his tone is playful, but there’s a part of him that means every word.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sneak up behind you, wrapping you in his arms out of nowhere. even if you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth, he’ll just hold you close, grin in the mirror, and whisper, “missed you.” when you ask how he could possibly miss you in two minutes, he’ll just smirk and say, “not my fault you’re this addictive.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to send you the goofiest selfies, captioned with the most dramatic things like, “this is the man who’s desperately in love with you.” or he’ll leave voice notes telling you in detail why you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly find little excuses to hold your hand, even if you’re just walking to the fridge. he’ll squeeze your hand three times (his secret “i love you”) and then kiss it when he thinks you aren’t looking, but you’ll catch him smiling to himself like he’s won the lottery.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to surprise you with handwritten love notes, sometimes with silly doodles on the side, tucked into your bag or under your pillow. he’ll write cheesy lines like, “today’s forecast: 100% chance of me loving you,” then play it cool, even though he’s secretly hoping it makes you smile.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly look at you like you hung the stars. even when you’re just talking about your day or doing something random, he’ll be there, staring with that soft, awe-filled look, because he still can’t believe he got this lucky.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to pepper your entire face with kisses, occassionally switching to kitten licks. then, once he is done with your face, he will do the same with your neck. and when you would tell him to stop, he would look at you with the most adorable expression on his face and whine, "i am not done yet." and who could say no to that face?

satoru is the type of boyfriend to buy you lipsticks at every date. not just any lipstick, but branded ones- chanel and dior. when you ask him the reason, he would beg you to use him as canvas and kiss his entire body, while having the lipstick shades on. after you are done marking his face and chest with lipstick stains, he would click a polaroid picture of it.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to snuggle in between your tits, while cuddling. he would lay on top of you, crushing you under his weight, and rest his face in between your breasts. he loves your tits, and has even named them, calling them "my girls". he is the type of initiate nipple play during sex and motorboat you.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to eat you out until your legs tremble and your cries sound desperate, during sex. he claims that he loves hearing your sweet moans and pleadings when he overstimulates you. "i love how you taste", is his excuse for making you cum a manifold times.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to switch positions, every now and then. he loves bending you into a mating press, fucking you in front of the mirror but never doggy style because in satoru's words, "i need to see your face while fucking you baby"

satoru is the type of boyfriend to fuck you raw because of his baby fever. he would love to have a baby with you, who would look just like the two of you. he is the type to talk about marriage and breeding you while having sex.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to enjoy watching you take charge in bedroom. he loves succumbing beneath you because he finds that extremely hot. he loves it when you ride his cock and dominate him, especially tying him up with his blindfold."the thought alone makes me cum, mommy", satoru comments.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to turn his infinity on, when he or his fingers are inside you to stretch your abused pussy better.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to ask you to paint your nails the same shade as the tip of his cock, after watching this trend in social media. with his base being, "#EAD3C9" and the tip, "E3AEAA".

A/N: this was my first headcanon, please don't judge 😭 idk how to do this shit, i am so sorry.

pregnancy smau part 4 will be up on wednesday :)

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (5) | Joe Burrow

Major Angst, Fluff

Summary: Joe’s words hang heavy over you. So much that you haven’t spoken to him in a week unless it was work related. Joe is on a mission to make it up to you.

You sat at your desk in your office typing away, answering email after email. The Bengals had their second pre season game yesterday against the Falcons, although Joe didn’t play yesterday, it was still a long day for you. Jake Browning’s assistant ended up getting covid, so you took on that role for the day. Mostly just to piss Joe off, which you succeeded in doing. Between that and losing the game, Joe was on a warpath.

He’d tried for several days to reach out to you, or corner you at work, or even show up to your house unannounced. But you always pretended you weren’t home. He feels terrible for what he said and he knows you’re hurting. But you’ve completely shut him out. He hadn’t heard anything about the baby, or if the baby was even okay. He deserved it, he knew that, but he thought the two of you would have talked it out by now.

Which is why he didn’t give you a choice when he burst into your office and slammed the door. You looked up instantly and let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and looking back down at your laptop. “What do you want Burrow?”

“Burrow? That’s where we are now?” It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he stands in front of your desk with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. “I’m busy” you say, not looking up. His large hand pushes the top of the laptop closed. “Not anymore.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say. “Too bad. We’re having a baby together. You have to deal with me for 18 years” he retorts and you let out a dry laugh. “A baby that you don’t even want” you mumble. “I never said that I didn’t want the baby. I was just frustrated and you-“

“Are you really trying to justify how you treated me last week by saying that you were upset?!” You exclaim. “Joe, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your emotional punching bag whenever you lose a game or when you’re mad at the world. We’ve been together exclusively for all of 2 weeks and I spent one of them questioning everything” you rant, tears filling your eyes. “If this is how it’s going to be now, what’s it going to be like when she gets here?”

“She?” Joe asks, confused.

“The ultrasound. The one that you were too mad at the world to go to. We’re having a girl. By the way, I’m due February 11th if you even care” you spit. His face softens and he takes a step toward you, and you take a step back. “Baby-“

“No. Immediately no. You don’t get to come in here and do that. You said some really hurtful shit to me and you don’t get to act like it didn’t happen just because you’re saying sorry,” you rant. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I can’t be you punching bag Joe. I get it, your pissed because the team isn’t off to great start. You’re mad at the world, and that’s fine. But you don’t get to treat me like shit because you feel like shit. We’re a team, Joe. Now more than ever” you continue, tears brimming your eyes.

“When you didn’t show up to the ultrasound, I was more hurt than angry. You promised me you’d be at every single appointment, and that I wouldn’t feel like I was doing this alone. This week showed me a different side of you and I’m not sure how I feel about it. You aren’t my boss anymore, Joe. You’re my boyfriend. The father of my child. So if that’s not what you want, you need to tell me now. I’m tired of the back and forth and feeling like I’m just wanted for sex-“

“Hold on. I’ve never just wanted you for sex. You know that” he says defensively. “Lately it feels like if we’re not fucking, we’re fighting” you respond, your voice cracking. “Joe, I love you with my whole heart. I want to be with you more than I want the air in my lungs, but I’m not going to tolerate you being an ass to me every time you lose a game” you tell him, not breaking eye contact. You notice his eyes are brimmed with tears too.

“So if you want out, please just say the word-“

“I don’t want out. I don’t want to go anywhere” Joe says, stepping toward you. This time you don’t move. You let him wrap you in his arms and you start to sob into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Non now, not ever” Joe says, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have a lot of things I need to work on. Treating you better is at the top of my list. I’ve started going to therapy-“

You pull your head back and look up at him. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to reach out to you all week to tell you. I know that there’s no amount of apologies that can make up for what I said to you. I made you feel like I didn’t want you or this baby and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Y/N, you’re my best friend. You’ve stuck by me at my worst. I’ve lost my mind. But all I’m asking is that you try to forgive me. I’m not asking for right away. I just want you by my side without hating me-“

“I don’t hate you Joe. I’m still very hurt, though. It’s going to take some time” you tell him. “In the mean time, I have sonogram pictures. Do you want to see our little girl?” You ask him, a smile forming on your face. “Uh, yeah. Is that even a question?”

•••

Joe headed back out to practice after looking at the sonogram pictures. You were still really hurt, but seeing his smile while looking at the small pictures made you happy. Before he left he gave you a kiss, and after a week of not speaking to him, it had your hormones soaring. You lean back in your desk chair and place a hand on your growing bump.

It’s only a matter of time before people start to figure it out. Wearing hoodies and baggy clothes is only going to work for so long. It was a relief that Gabby knows though, you didn’t have to wear a hoodie in your office and your desk hid your bump if anyone besides Joe or Ja’Marr came in. Speaking of Gabby.

“Hey, girlie. Brought you lunch. You and baby need to eat” Gabby says, placing a bag in front of you. You groaned at the smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. “Subway? How did you know I’ve been craving a chicken bacon ranch”

Gabby laughs. “You’ve only been talking about it for 3 days”

“I saw Joe coming out of here a few minutes ago. How did that go?” She asks while taking a seat at her desk. “It was okay. He apologized profusely and we looked at sonogram pictures” you tell her as you start to literally devour your sandwich. “He understands that I’m still hurt and it’s going to take a little while before we’re back to normal” you add. “Good. He can’t treat you that way just because we lost a stupid game” Gabby says.

“And speaking of sonogram pics, did you find out what your having yet?” Gabby asks excitedly. You look up at her with a smirk on your face and she jumps to her feet. “Y/N! Oh my god!” She squeals. “We’re having a girl” you tell her, and she squeals even louder. You suddenly stand to your feet with urgency.

“Sorry to cut this short but this baby is sitting right on my bladder and I have to pee”

•••

You find yourself walking up the driveway of Joe’s house after work. After not being here for a week, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss sleeping in his bed. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, you’ve slept better if he was there. So when he called and asked you to come over after work, you agreed.

You open the door using you key that he gave you and walk in to a delicious smell of food cooking. You walk toward the kitchen where Joe stands in front of the stove stirring some kind of sauce. “Hey,” you say, and he turns around with a soft smile. “Hey gorgeous”

“What are you making?” You ask as you wrap your arms around him from behind. “Cajun shrimp Alfredo. Your fav” he says, and you smile. “You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?” You tease and he lets out a laugh. “I think I’ve buttered you up enough, hence the baby bump pressing into my back” he jokes, and you both laugh. “You filled me up, not buttered”

“Y/N!” Joe calls out surprised while you let out a loud laugh. “My god, what am I gonna do with you” he jokes, turning around in your arms. “Um…” you tap your chin pretending to think. “You can start by bending me over this counter,” you tell him, giving him what he calls the bedroom eyes. He smirks. “Oh yeah? Then what?” He asks, walking you back until your back is pressed against the counters edge. “Then you can fuck me until I see stars” you whisper, before he smashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss is filled with passion, and pent up sexual frustration. Joe’s hands land on your ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze, while your hands move along his biceps. His kisses start to move down your neck and you crane your head to the side to give him better access. The growling of your stomach causes him to laugh against your neck before pulling away. “As much as I want to do this, let’s get some food in you and then we can talk about sex” he says. As he’s playing the food, he looks deep in thought.

“You okay? You look a little lost” you say with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I’m good. There’s just something I want to talk to you about,” he turns toward you and he sets the glass plate in front of you on the kitchen island, and stands across from you. “You can totally say no. But I was wondering if you wanted to move in here? With me” he says, his voice quaking from nervousness. “I just figured it might be easier once the baby comes, and you’re here all the time anyway-“

“Joey, I would love to move in with you” you say, reaching over to place your hand on top of his with a soft smile on your face. “There’s also something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you” you start, and let out a sigh. “I think you should stop paying me” you say, looking up to meet his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I pay you? You work hard, and on top of everything else you’re still my assistant” he says, confused. “We’re dating now, Joe. I’m sleeping with you. I’m not a prostitute” you say with a laugh. “But I’m not paying you for that. I’m paying you for all the shit you have to put up with because of me” he argues.

“Joe-“

“Not to mention game days. I put you through hell on game days” he rambles, before taking a deep breath. “You done?” You ask him. “I don’t want you to pay me anymore, baby. If I’m going to be living here I’ll be fine. I only had you pay me before because I needed to make rent money. Now, I’m not saying you’ll be responsible for everything financially. I’ve found a remote job that all I have to do is log onto a computer. I’m going to do that, while still being your assistant because whether you want to admit it or not, you need the help” you joke, and he scoffs.

“You’re not wrong.” He says and you laugh.

After that, the two of you eat in silence. But not an uncomfortable silence, just enjoying each other company. Once finished you walk your and Joe’s plates over to the sink, as he leans against the island watching you. When you turn toward him he smiles and opens his arms for a hug, but you have other ideas.

“Now I wanna do something that I’ve been thinking about all week,” you say, as you drop to your knees in front of him. He has a smirk on his face as he looks down at you. “Go to town, baby”