#i was really out there at 18 bringing cool people into my room and going 'oh yeah just ignore the pony and mountain of other plushies'

[chloelouygo]

I said the other day that she's my favourite and here is my proof, have a pony picture as thanks for enjoying my niche feeling interests alongside me 😌😌💜💜

Isn't she beautiful-

[diddybok]

Request: Skz accidentally finding out one of reader’s kinks… could be a drabble or text! <3

oh my god…yes. happy birthday to me😌

18+ below the cut peeps

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: hyung line x gn!reader

➩genre(s): smut

➩warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, kinks: hair pulling, spit, choking, humiliation. penetration (not specified what hole. this one is for all the delulus out there)

➩author’s note: yeah, smut. just nasty smut. mAy have gotten carried away with this. mAy have had some revelations. mAy be chronically down bad for hyunjin after this…and EYE wrote it.

➩part(s): next

chris | hair pulling | 0.9k (955) words

You were laying on the bed next to Chris. You watching the newest installment of the Bridgerton series, and he playing Pokemon Go. Your friends and the boys constantly tease the two of you saying that you act like a couple when really you aren’t. Chris gets annoyed, much more than he likes to admit, at the constant allegation. However, you don’t pay it any mind. If anything you add fuel to the fire. 

Ping…ping…ping

You groan loudly and press pause on your show. 

“If you could be so kind to turn the ringer on your phone off? I’m trying to watch a sexy scene and your pinging is taking me out the moment!” You say turning your attention to Chris, his eyes still glued to the screen. 

He just hums in response but makes no move to flip the switch on the side of his phone. 

Ping…ping…ping

He chuckles lowly before swiping the notification up to continue his battle. You crawl over to him and snatch his phone from his hand. It seems you will have to see for yourself just who is blowing up his phone. 

“Y/n give it back!” He reaches over to grab the phone but you turn your whole body away from him, laughing as you curl up tightly trying to read the notifications. 

“My my my, who is Aaliyah?” You gasp dramatically. “I miss you so much baby, can’t wait ‘til I can see you again, need you bad Channie” You mimic in a high pitched voice. 

“Y/n I’m serious just give it back!” He growls. It has now turned into a scramble of sorts. You underneath, curled up in a foetal position. Him, on top as he tries to pry your body open to retrieve his phone. 

Chris accidentally releases his grasp on you and in that moment you roll from underneath him.  Planning to escape out of his room, you hastily make a move to climb off the bed. 

It all happened so quickly. The grab. The noise. The drop of the phone. The awkward silence. 

In your attempt to flee, Chris had grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back. You could have wailed, could have screamed, but you did neither. No, what you did was far worse. 

You had released a guttural moan. 

You. Moaning because Chris pulled your hair. 

Neither of you dared to speak, nor look each other in the eyes. You were embarrassed to say the least. Your best friend had just discovered that you have a hair pulling kink. He on the other hand took one too many deep breaths to calm himself. He has never heard you make a noise like that before. Much less because of him. 

“I, ahem- your phone. I’m sorry…you can have it back.” You say keeping your eyes glued to his bedsheets as you slide the phone over to his leg. 

You go to retract your hand quickly so that you can go get a glass of water to cool yourself down. He grabs your wrist almost instantaneously. Not letting you get far at all. 

“Look at me.” He demands. You do as he says, slowly bringing your eyes to meet his. You don’t have to look down at his chest to detect the way it rises and falls heavily. 

He gently runs his hand all the way up your arm, an agenda clearly on his mind. You’re frozen in place as you feel his hand creep to the nape of your neck, his fingers spreading wide as they make their way into your hair. 

Without warning, he tugs your head back harshly causing another involuntary moan to fall from your lips. A soft gasp is released from Chris, clearly enjoying the way you react to the action. 

You guess that’s how you found yourself in this predicament. Knees no doubt bruising as you take Chris’ cock repeatedly down the depths of your throat. 

His hand was embedded deeply into your hair, gripping it tight and using it as a leverage to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Fuck~ just like that Y/n. Mm, m’gonna use you as my personal fuck toy. Forget all the other girls I see. Just pull your hair whenever I need you huh? I don’t know why I didn’t think about it earlier.” Chris says more to himself than to you, releasing a small whine. 

The picture that this will leave in your mind is sure to be one that will fog your brain for the next couple of months at least. You never really thought about Chris in this way. Perhaps in the beginning stages of your friendship, but it quickly went away when you found out he was a manwhore. 

Nothing wrong with that of course, you never had any reason to judge him for it. But god if this is what you were missing. You most definitely would not mind being his personal fuck toy. Platonically of course…

Your eyes are currently watering, as you gag and swallow. Making Chris grip your hair tighter making you moan. That was the breaking point for him as he unloads into your mouth. Not giving you any chance to waste a single drop. 

He releases his hold on you, slowly pulling out of your mouth before slapping the tip on your cheek a couple times.

You look up at him, your glossed over eyes making him coo at you as he strokes your head softly.

“I hope your head isn’t too sore yet, ‘cause I’m gonna use it to fuck you back onto my cock, okay?” Chris says with a devilish smile. 

Forget the sexy scene on television, you’re currently living in the sexiest one of all!

minho | spit | 0.6k (673) words

You and Minho are getting ready for bed after a long day of camping activities. You’re going back home from Korea tomorrow night so you wanted to spend as much time with your best friend as you could. 

Even if that meant agreeing to do whatever he says for the last few days you shared together. Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. You went fishing and caught a fish. You learnt how to build a campfire from scratch. Went kayaking and almost tipped it over. Let Minho spit in your mouth—

Wait, what?

You shake your head to come back to reality. Minho swirls water around in his mouth before spitting it out into the sink. 

He wipes his mouth as he looks up at you, your gaze seemingly transfixed onto his mouth. 

He still tastes the toothpaste in his mouth so he leans back over the sink about to spit, but then he looks up at you. Holding your unwavering gaze. 

He spits slowly, the saliva descending down into the sink. As it disconnects, he licks his bottom lip smirking at you.

You watched the whole ordeal, obviously. Which explains why you suddenly squeeze your thighs, shifting from one foot to another. 

“Either I’m living in a dream right now, or you, Y/n, are simply filthy.”

“Huh?” You say blinking rapidly. 

“Huh? Huh?” He mocks, walking over to you. 

What is wrong with you? Snap out of it! That is your best friend, you definitely should not be thinking about him spitting in your mouth as you get pounded by his dick. 

“I can practically hear your thoughts. That or you’re speaking aloud.” He smirks, now inches away from your face. 

It seems you finally regain consciousness as your hands claw at the sheets. Minho pummels you from behind at a relentless pace, making you drool. 

You hear him chuckle, his hand falling beneath your chin to catch any saliva before bringing it up to smear on your mouth. 

His hand moves to the underside of your jaw, forcing your head back. Your view of him now upside down as he doesn’t slow the pace. 

“Are you gonna admit that you’re a filthy little slut who likes spit?” He teases, smiling down at you. 

You can only mewl in response, he’s got you going dumb and he certainly enjoys it.

Bringing his hand up to your cheeks, he squeezes gently. Getting you to open your mouth. You do, even going as far to stick your tongue out. 

“Oh look how obedient you are.” He spits into your mouth. His hold on your jaw releases as he moves that hand to cup your chest, hoisting you up so your back, though arched, is against his chest. 

He fucks up into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your moans fill the tent. Those other poor people are no doubt just trying to enjoy their family camping trip, and here comes the two of you; unapologetically loud as shit. 

“M-Minho…m’close.” You whine. He just chuckles in response, stroking that sweet spot inside of you to push you over the edge. 

It isn’t long before you’re quivering on him, your body already becoming limp as your eyes roll into the back of your head reaching that sweet release. Before you can lavish in the feeling, you’re pulled off of him and he guides your head back to his pelvis. 

“You’re gonna swallow every last drop I give you m’kay? No spitting this out sweetheart.” Minho says as he moans. Pumping himself faster as he unloads his seed into your mouth which you gladly swallow. 

He uses the tip of his cock to smear any remnants of his climax on your lips. He smiles down at you, praising you for doing such a good job whilst also saying how dirty you are. 

This will certainly make your relationship with him all the more questionable. Let’s hope it won’t be the only thing that clouds your mind on the flight home!

changbin | choking | 0.8k (898) words

You and Changbin are in the park having a cutesy little picnic. You may or may not have forced him to come with you since your other friends cancelled at the last minute and you had prepared so much. It’s good that you and Changbin are so alike because neither of you like to waste any food. 

You have both been snacking on some grapes, when you look down and see there is only one left on the vine. Quickly whilst his attention was elsewhere, you pluck the grape from its vine. 

You turn your head as you go to put the grape into your mouth, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you. 

“You swear you’re like a ninja.” Changbin laughs as you turn to look at him with squinted eyes. He just shakes his head, his other hand held out awaiting the grape. 

You look at his hand, the grape, his hand again and then back up to his face. 

“If you think I’m giving you this grape, then you are surely mistaken.” You say, you’re tone curt. 

Changbin looks at you, before shaking his head overzealously. You look at him confused. 

“Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Sorely.”

“What?” 

“You said surely mistaken. It’s sorely mistaken, doofus.” He says before bursting out into a fit of laughter. 

You look momentarily taken aback, a quiet ‘oh’ coming out of your mouth before you look at Changbin’s laughing state. 

“For that, I’m taking the grape.” He says, plucking the grape from your hand and putting it in his mouth. He starts to chew it teasingly in your face, closing his eyes as he does so. 

Successfully irked, you lunge towards him from your seated position. Unfortunately for your lacklustre skills, he easily manoeuvres you so that your back is against his chest as his bicep and forearm enclose your throat. 

He squeezes playfully, well aware that the two of you are in public. 

“Nice try, munchkin. You’re gonna have to be faster than that.” Changbin gloats. 

You bring your hands up to hold his arm, your hands barely able to enclose his whole forearm. You try to pry his arm off but it’s to no avail as he doesn’t budge. 

He squeezes tighter, his mouth moving closer to your ears. 

“You know I’m not even trying right?” He teasingly whispers into your ear. 

“Bin unhand me.” You plead. 

“What, you’ve given up already?”

“If you squeeze my throat any tighter, I am not responsible for the…sounds that will come out of me.” You say tapping his forearm. 

Changbin’s eyes widen slightly as he realises what you meant. He releases you and you crawl back to the other side of the picnic blanket, fixing your outfit and your hair, pretending like you didn’t say what you just said. 

“You mean to tell me that me choking you was turning you on?” He asks with genuinity. 

You turn to him, shrugging a little. The way you act so nonchalant clearly has an effect on him as he tries not to get turned on himself. 

It didn’t work, for either of you, as you find yourself in the back of his car sitting on his legs as his fingers pump viciously in and out of you. 

“Shh, you gotta be quiet. Don’t want people to start getting suspicious.” Changbin speaks into your ear. 

You do your best to be quiet, but you don’t trust yourself so you put a hand over your mouth. 

“Fuck you’re gripping my fingers so tight. Mm I can’t wait to ruin you. ‘Cause I’m gonna. Yeah, fuck you clenched when I said that. Want me to ruin you, don’t you my sweet?” Changbin purrs. 

Your other hand grips his thigh, the coil within the pit of your stomach starting to tighten. You remove your hand from your mouth as your breath starts to quicken, small whines being released here and there. 

“Bin, I can’t hold it.” You whine. 

“You don’t have to hold it sweetness. Come for me.” He says his hand going to your neck and pressing on the sides of your throat. 

The restriction of air and the squeeze of his hand mixed with his fingers has you seeing stars. Your moan caught in your throat as you orgasm. The lack of air prolongs your release and unfortunately for Changbin, you make a mess all over the backseat of his car. 

He smiles as he watches you get lost in the pleasure. He loosens his grip on your neck and relishes in your pants as you try to catch your breath. 

“Well I’m going to need to deep clean my car, but it was so worth it.” Changbin says, rubbing you through your high and placing a soft kiss to the side of your head. 

You move yourself off of his lap, momentarily looking out the window to see if there were any wanderers that got too curious. Taking a deep breath your eyes meet Changbin’s and he looks at you with a sweet, unwavering smile. 

“What’s that look for?…” 

“Oh nothing, just thinking about all the places m’gonna fuck you when we get back to mine.” Changbin says, his smile widening even more. 

Oh wow, you’re in for a long night ahead of you. Better hope those grapes gave you enough energy for the rest of the day!

hyunjin | humiliation | 1.4k (1446) words

Hyunjin is teaching you part of his dance routine in the studio. You were bored, and teaching somebody helps him to recount the steps. 

For the most part, you were able to keep up with him. Picking up the steps with ease until there was a particularly hard move. 

You can see the frustration building on Hyunjin’s face as you keep messing up this step. The one he tried to teach you fifteen minutes ago…

“Y/n no. Lift your arm like this, this.” He says demonstrating the correct way to do it. 

You copy the motion. You think that you are nailing it and that he is just being too pedantic which explains his elongated sigh. 

“Hyunjin, I don't know what you think I’m doing wrong. I’m literally doing it the way you do it!” You say, now getting frustrated at him and his perfectionist ways. 

He looks at you through the mirror, scoffing and doing the dance move how you did it. Clearly over-exaggerating the way you did it. 

“Does that look right to you? No, it doesn’t. It’s not even a hard step Y/n and you’re struggling to do it.” He says, walking back over to the laptop to replay the song. 

This is embarrassing. You should feel embarrassed. Yet you hide a smile. There’s something about the way Hyunjin gets riled up and then proceeds to belittle you for clearly not being a professional dancer like he is. 

Ridiculous isn’t it?

“Okay let’s go from the top.” Hyunjin says, counting the both of you in. 

The song plays and you both dance to the rhythm. Everything was going swell until you purposefully messed up a move that you know you have no trouble doing. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

You wish you could take a mental picture of Hyunjin’s scowl and print it out. He looks at you, almost pitiful as he turns down the music, his hands on his hip as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. 

“What are you fucking inept or something? What’s going on? You don’t know your left from your rights? Hm? You need me to teach you the alphabet whilst we’re at it?” Hyunjin taunts, now walking towards you. 

You say nothing, looking up at him with eyes as innocent as you can get them. 

“Cat caught your tongue? Or have you just become so dumb that you can’t even speak anymore?” Hyunjin speaks lowly, backing you into the full length mirror. 

He raises a single eyebrow at you, waiting for you to say something. He huffs out a laugh when he realises you’re not going to respond, but rather cower beneath him. 

You really are spoiled aren’t you? It seems it is so because you got whatever you wanted from this. One moment he pinned you up against the wall, you shoving your tongue down his throat. Then he was shoving his dick down your throat. And now here you are, on all fours, forced to watch as he thrusts harshly into you from behind. 

“This what you needed hm? You just needed to be fucked didn’t you. Naw, dumb baby’s just too stupid to ask for what they want so they decide to piss me off instead huh?” Hyunjin grunts landing a smack on your backside. 

You moan embarrassingly loud, jolting forwards slightly as you feel the impact of his hand on your flesh. 

The song plays in the background adding to the already sexual tension that is in the dance studio. 

Hyunjin stops thrusting, looking at you in the mirror as you stumble a little. The rhythm of thrusts throwing you off as your hips stutter in their movement. 

“You’re gonna fuck yourself on my dick to the beat of the song. See if you’re not completely useless. It would be wise not to piss me off further so if you do a good job, maybe I’ll be nice.” Hyunjin says crossing his arms. 

You wait to see if he was bluffing, looking back at him only to be met with a raise of his eyebrow. You turn back around, meeting his gaze in the mirror. You tune your ears to the song and start throwing it back to the beat. (y’all why this make me bust out laughing okay sorry continue.)

For the first two counts of eight, you were doing pretty well. Matching each beat with the sound of your bottom colliding with his pelvis. He watches you intently as if it were you dancing. He bites his lip, holding back his own moans. 

The chorus of the song comes along and you miss a count. You try to catch up by speeding up your movements, but that just feels too good. Hyunjin tsks at you. 

“You can’t even do this correctly. How embarrassing Y/n. Is there anything you can do without my help?” Hyunjin says shaking his head as he grabs both of your arms. 

You clench around him at his words, making his tough exterior falter ever so slightly as he curses under his breath at the way you squeeze him so tightly. 

He holds your arms like handles as he repeatedly slams you back onto him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and then close tightly as he reaches deeper, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside. 

“You better open your fuckin’ eyes and watch as you take what I give you.” He says, his tongue coming out to wet his lip as he smirks mischievously. 

You flutter your eyes open, meeting his gaze in the mirror as your mouth hangs open releasing silent moans. Who knew that being humiliated would turn you on to the point it has? You watch his face contort into concentration. Sweat pouring down his face and falling onto your lower back. 

“Hyune, just like that, please. I’m so close.” You whine. 

He tilts his head, one of his hands releasing your wrist to reach beneath you and between your thighs, rubbing you quickly.

“Oh yeah? And you think you deserve it?” He teases. 

You nod relentlessly, not even caring for his permission as you spasm around him as he lands a particularly powerful thrust. 

As he watches you come undone on him he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head before chasing his own release. 

“Mm, where’d you want it? Inside? So it drips down your thighs for everyone to see? Ah fuck, yeah I think so.” He says, small whines leaving his throat. 

He pushes your body all the way down as he now lays on top of you, rutting into you. He lifts one leg up to ground him so he can reach deeper, the rocking motion overstimulating you as you convulse around him once more. You choke out a sob, tears starting to run down your face. 

He catches your expression in the mirror, the tears streaming down and it sends him over the edge. With one final rock, he stills as his cock twitches deep inside of you. Painting your walls white deep inside. 

He rests his forehead on the back of your head. Both of you spent as the sounds of heavy breathing and the song fill the room. 

He slowly pulls out of you, both of you whining at the loss of the warmth. He rolls you over, placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. 

“Y/n? Are you still with me?” He asks, glancing over your face and down your body. He sees some of his cum trailing out of you and he uses his fingers to push it back in. Fixated on the way your hole envelopes his fingers so accommodatingly. 

He only stops when he feels your hand push his chest and he chuckles lightly. 

“You know you really don’t take orders well. I think I need to train you.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face as you finally open your eyes and look up at him. 

He hums softly, admiring you before getting up and sorting himself out so that he is decent to the eyes of the public again. 

“Get up. That wasn’t a reward, you’re going to just have to dance with my cum running down your legs now. The quicker you get the choreography, the quicker you’ll get to shower.” Hyunjin says walking over to the laptop and restarting the song. 

He leaves you to get yourself up on wobbly arms and you smile to yourself. He should know by now that you most certainly do not put up without a fight. 

Hopefully you don’t “accidentally” mess up any more of the moves and make him belittle you again…

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

[lokisgoodgirl]

Daylight Orgy: The Rite (IV)

Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (4) You confront Loki about Fandral - and the rules of the Rite are bent to breaking point. (w/c 4.1k) Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Asgard Loki! x FReader. Smuttish (+ 3rd party smut). Jealousy. Loki being a naughty prince.

Had you been expecting Loki to follow you?

That he’d thunder down those spiral steps and throw the bronze door open? Tear across the market square half-naked and yank you by the shoulders to say, ‘Stop – that scoundrel is a lying vagabond…’ ?

Yes, obviously.

But he didn’t.

You couldn’t settle back in your chambers. Picking things up, putting them down, moving to the window - always on edge for a knock that didn’t come.

‘The pleasure of the subject is only one part of the ritual. You cannot possibly fulfil the second.’

The fuck was that supposed to mean? Loki never mentioned a second part. As far as you knew, all you had to do was lie there and let him eat you out, not contain any enthusiasm, and try not to die from overstimulation. Sure…there might be other weird shit, it was the Asgardian Royals after all – but this seemed important.

If Fandral’s telling the truth, that is.

You frown, staring at a wiry bird shifting over the rooftops. Clearly, Fandral's a shit-stirrer. Clearly, he’s jealous, Loki had said as much. You’d be pretty jealous too if you were the only person in the inner-circle Loki hadn’t fucked over the past five centuries. An unexpected wrench of envy twists your stomach.

But the prince you’d seen in the Weaving Rooms was entirely different to the one that stared down from frescos and observed his worshippers with cool disdain. A smile that lit up his eyes, the inflection of a breathless chuckle as you caught him by surprise, a faint blush that could be mistaken as humble, the hesitant lust which thrummed beneath his skin as you’d pressed to him –

‘I need to see you,’ he’d said. ‘Every day from now until then.’ Like you meant something to him, and it felt…real.

Was it really a game? Would he pull the rug at the last minute before the ceremony? It was very on brand, you’d admit. The thought sends a violent shudder up your spine.

The next morning, there’s no knock at the door from Loki’s apprentice. No letters, no nothing. Anxiety creeps to anger, and with every inch the sun moves up the sky, your feet get itchier. Does he think I’m just going to sit around and wait for him? Fucking gods. Maybe I should just tell him no – then he’ll have do the Rite with Fandral, see how that works out. Serve him right.

But then… the thought of Loki crawling on top of that smarmy, coiffured arsehole invades your brain. Shit. You shift down the corridors of the court towards the interior palace. No one looks at you today. The golden doors of the main entrance to the royal quarters loom, and you swallow, heart loud in your ears. A guard side-steps in front of you with a cock of an eyebrow as effective as a raise of his hand. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say. The eyebrow cocks higher. “You know how many people try that every day?” He looks down to your feet, and back to your face with a sneer. “Most of them dress better for the occasion. Or at least bring a bribe.”

You stare at him with heat creeping up your neck. “He knows who I am.” He laughs. “I bet he does.” “He does!” “Look…” The guard cups your elbow and ushers you to the side, glancing towards his peers at the other end of the door. “I don’t want to embarrass you, love. Just do yourself a favour, and leave.”

Your eyes narrow. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say again, harsher this time. “Can someone just go and tell him I’m here? He’ll be pissed if he finds out you turned me away.” The guard flinches fractionally, studying your face. Eventually he leaves, and five minutes later, he’s back. “Come on,” he says gruffly. No apology, very nice. The gold door slams and the bustle of the outer court disappears. The air is cooler in here, a strange stillness hanging like perfume. More marble carves in large arches along the corridor, open to garden running up the middle of a courtyard. Somewhere, water trickles - but you can't see it. “He’s drunk,” the guard says without looking back. “Excuse me?” “The Prince. He’s drunk, and he has company.” You frown. It isn’t even midday. Suddenly your throat feels very tight, and you feel very small. If Loki had wanted to see me, he’d have asked. He’d have sent for me. So much for being aloof and interesting. Your irritation towards Fandral blooms with new fervour: not only has he ruined your excitement; he’s ruined your hot-girl-mystery.

The guard stops abruptly and you collide into his shoulder-guards. He clears his throat, stamping a staff twice.

You roll your eyes, shuffling around him. Through an open set of doors is a room like something from the whispered tales of olden Asgard. Chiffon flutters at the windows, long plush cushions lining the floor draped with blankets that shimmer in sunlight. In the corner, some blindfolded guy is plucking at a lute. Platters of nuts, grapes, sweet cakes lie half-demolished across the floor, and twice the amount of goblets as people. And then...your jaw goes slack.

Bodies shift in the room, two dozen, at least - all moving to their own rhythm like waves rippling to shore. A woman sits perched on the windowsill; you can’t see her face, only her legs wrapped around a man’s arse as he slowly thrusts into her. Her hair shimmers like spun gold; lips stained with rich juices while she pants to the ceiling. On the cushions, a man and woman lie side-by-side, kissing languidly as two other men busy themselves between their respective thighs. People are fucking…everywhere: sets of two, three, four. Norns. You’re trying to find somewhere to set your eyes that doesn’t involve breasts, or glistening body parts, or faces twisted in pleasure that you definitely shouldn’t be witness to. And then, they land on Loki. He's looking directly at you with a lazy, dark delight. The Prince lounges across a gilded chair in the corner; one thigh hiked over the armrest and the other stretched to its full length. His boots look more obscene on him than usual, today – sprawling like that.

The laces of his shirt are undone, dark tangles of hair spread over his shoulders and pearls of sweat glistening on his collarbone. With a mildly horrifying lurch of your stomach, you notice the ties at his groin are loose, too. But he’s not got someone squirming around his cock, and that’s something, at least. His lips move, but no sound comes out. You frown as he waves a hand, beckoning you through the doors. Dangling on the precipice of a flee, you feel one foot move in front of the other – and then your face feels like its slathered in jelly: cool, wet slime sliding over your skin. You lurch out the other side of the doorway with a gasp...and then the sound hits. Moans of pleasure ring to the high ceilings: grunts, mewls, groans of names you’ve never heard as they wring pitched ecstasy from each other. Loki’s smile grows. “Just a small silencing enchantment.” He shrugs and clicks his fingers. The door slams behind you. A few pairs of eyes flicker in your direction before re-focusing on their work. You can’t blame them – you’re entirely overdressed. Picking your way across the floor, you come to a stop beside him.

This…isn’t what you’d expected. He rests his head back, half-lidded eyes clouded by whatever’s swirling in his goblet. “You realise it’s not even midday?”

An impish smile lifts Loki’s lips, a flash of tongue nipping over the bottom one. “I am a second son of the crown, famed for hedonism and the sensual pleasures…how else should I fill my days?” Your eyes rise to the couple fucking on the windowsill. “Could we talk somewhere?”

A frown ghosts his forehead, and Loki reaches for your hand. His eyes have sharpened, and he looks almost sober. “We’re all friends here, it’s just…a release. A club, if you will. We can talk here, unless you’re uncomfortable.” Your tongue pokes against your cheek. You have no right to ask this, and yet, “Have you ‘released’ today, then?” One of Loki’s brows rise, lips rippling in a closed smile. “Yes.”

That jealousy you’d been fighting settles like a stone. Loki’s eyes slide between yours, slivers of sapphire sparking beyond deep pools of black. “Although not with any interference from another,’ he adds huskily. “I’m…saving myself, it seems.” “Oh?” “Mmm. Delayed gratification is a powerful lure.”

As the hum leaves his lips, Loki shuffles on the chair: back straightening and the leg hoisted on the armrest shifting. You try not to let your gaze drop to his crotch, but it’s a moth-flame situation. He’s hard, of course. Behind you, someone orgasms.

Heat pools in your lower belly, arousal blossoming like liquid shadow, and you know for a fact if you move – there will be a slip between your thighs. You’ve never been somewhere like this – sex has always been private, quiet. Loki’s looking at you with something close to innocence. Perhaps it’s the way you know there absolutely no way you can fuck him – no way for him to touch that hot mess gathering between your folds, and no way for you to suckle the head of his cock as he tangles those long fingers in your—

“Did you hear what I said?” You clear your throat, swallowing. “Sorry, I was…somewhere else.” “Mmm,” Loki hums again, brushing a finger by his lips to stifle a smile. He lowers his thigh from the armrest and pats it: once, twice. Like a magnet, you slide onto his lap. Across the room, a woman being fucked against a pillar frowns at you over her partner’s shoulder. An arrogant thrill soaks up your spine while Loki’s nose brushes down your cheek; lips lingering on the curve of your neck, his breath gloriously cool against the heat of your skin.

“What did you want to discuss, little owl? Here, in my den of debauchery.” His fingers dance up the folds of fabric at your midsection, cupping a breast and beginning to toy at the nipple. It feels so fucking good: too good. He pinches it gently, rolling against his thumb, knowing exactly what he’s doing; you exhale against his cheek, and it makes it almost impossible to whisper, “Fandral.”

The fingers still, and you can feel Loki frowning without even having to look. “What?” he growls. It’s all you can do not to grind against his thigh. He’s wearing a tight pair of leather trousers, so at least none of the mess between your legs, probably soaking through your dress, will get on his skin. But he might touch me. He pinches your nipple, eyes narrowing. A hiss erupts from your throat, tapering to a moan. “Fandral,” you say on the exhale. “If it’s not too much trouble, desist from moaning that rube's name in my presence, darling.” You frown. “He said you’re messing with me; said you don’t have any intention of us doing the Rite together, and that he’ll be the—”

Suddenly you’re airborne, Loki’s strong hands scooping you like a bag of feathers and manoeuvring you to one of the long pillows on the floor. He looms over you on his hands and knees; one set on either side of your left leg, a wild veil of black hair hanging around his jaw. His lips part, and the impossible muscles of his shoulders shift beneath the drape of that slutty shirt. “He will not,” Loki says. “Did that cunning little mouse say he was visiting Lagertha for any other reason than to have his doublet mended?” His breath is tinged with the sweetness of primrose wine. “You are my chosen partner; he has no sway in it – and certainly no say in it.”

The gravel of his voice is bass to the continuum of groaning that sings between pillars. Desire scorches your skin, tightening your thighs and twisting your stomach so taut it might snap. Your gaze shifts fractionally to the side, catching sight of a beautiful man with bronze hair glittering like a copper coin as his cock sinks inside against another man’s ass: again, again - a hand fastening to the back of his lover’s neck. The second man moans: guttural, primal. “Do you like that?” Loki’s breath licks the shell of your ear, his hands shifting the skirts of your loose dress up your parted legs like water. The digits slide down your arms, guiding them above your head. You can’t look away: the men are poetry together. The one taking everything the other has to give grips the back of a chair, his knuckles white, his jaw trembling and cock hard at his stomach as the fingers cradling his neck tighten.

If Loki can’t ravish you, if he can’t touch your cunt which aches for his tongue – then you’ll settle for his voice. And the heat radiating from the collar of his shirt. And anyway, you’re pretty sure his voice alone will make you climax in 3…2…1— “I want to know everything,” Loki says: dark, filthy, and…honest? Your pussy clenches so hard you almost whimper. “You’ve told me about your life, but now I wish to know your desires…your deepest fantasies. I crave that knowledge like an orgasm I cannot sate.”

His husk lingers heavy over any other sound, filling your mind with strange, inadvisable, thoughts of forever. “What you like,” he hums, “what you want…how I can pleasure you beyond anything you’ve shared with another, and how I can haunt every moment your mind wanders from now until eternity.”

The god’s lips graze your pulse point, and you can feel the thump of blood beating against his skin. “So, I ask again,” he says as the figures fucking in front of you blur, “do you like that?”

A stab of air rips down your throat as you gasp, “Yes.” Norns, right now you’d let him flip you over and sink into your ass in a second.

Without warning, one of Loki’s leather clad thighs presses against your clit. Sparks explode from your centre, tendrils of utter desire rippling across your body like the drag of a lit match. Fear widens your eyes, and amusement dances in his. “Your arousal cannot touch me through these,” he says coolly, taking his time over every syllable. “My hands remain here…” Loki’s eyes dart up to his fingers encircling your wrists, and squeezes. “My sword remains sheathed, and my leathers are merely...” He presses the flat of his lower thigh against your clit again, “A tool.”

“That’s cheating,” you say breathlessly. Loki’s lip twitches in a knowing smirk, a half shrug conveying, ‘What did you expect?’ “Don’t you want to play with me?” His eyes narrow, and another lance of need spears through your core. Your lips roll together, stifling a moan as your brows draw tight. “You’re drunk,” you say. But you don’t believe it. Loki’s pupils are still wide and deep enough to drown in, but it’s not the primrose wine. Unbelievably, it’s you. For now, you decide to let yourself imagine he doesn’t just need you for the Rite; that it could be more – that he could be yours.

The weight of his attention lies heavier in the air than the aroma of sex, and his thigh grinds against your pussy; catching the spot above your clit with each, gentle tug.

“Fuck…Loki,” you whisper, back arching off the cushion. His chin rises, smouldering beneath half-lidded eyes. “Talk to me,” he breathes. You want to dig the heel of your palm against his solid cock bound beneath the crotch of his leathers. You want to feel his animal god-lust pulsing under your hand - more fuel for the violently dirty fantasies you’ll create in your head later as you writhe beneath the sheets alone.

Loki tuts, squeezing your wrists again. You offer a weak, breathy struggle. “No, little owl. Not today, not yet. I want to be destructively engorged with the sight of you…denied what I want while I hear you come undone.” “Loki,” you whine again, face hot and a hum growing in your ears. This is crazy. And yet…

Loki’s thigh moves in wicked waves against your clit; his eyes burning into yours, those thin lips parted and flushed, and ragged exhales scraping from his throat like he’s sinking inside your cunt. “Talk to me,” he says again, but this time, it’s a beg. A silky voice sounds from behind his broad shoulders, accompanied by an immaculately shaped set of nails sweeping across his collarbone. The woman who was glaring earlier. She lowers to his ear. “Can I offer you relief, my prince? Since this one cannot?”

It’s hushed, but you were meant to hear it.

Loki doesn’t even look at her; his fingers stay curled around your wrists. “No,” he says through gritted teeth. She slinks away and the flames licking up your belly burn brighter. The meat of his thigh muscle stills, and the ache of its absence makes you frott against his knee.

“Talk to me,” he commands with an air of finality, chin lowering. “Tell me what you like, what you want.” Even if he let go of your arms, that stare would pin you in place. Every inch the prince; every inch the god – even in the middle of a daylight orgy.

“I want your mouth on me,” you whisper; squirming beneath his mischievous smirk. “I want it…slow, then heavier…then slower.” “Slow?” Loki hums, titling his head. That tongue darts over his lips. “And firm, but…soft. Wet. And loud…I want to hear you taste me.” Gods’ bones, has anyone ever been this ineloquent? But Loki doesn’t seem to mind. His face tells you he knows exactly what you mean; exactly how you like it. He’s imagining it, just as you are.

Your eyes dart to his crotch and the thick outline of his manhood strains against heavy creases. His hips shift, a small hiss filling the air between you. “What else?” he asks in a breathless voice that’s so unlike him. You bite your lip as his stare falls down your chest - flimsy drapes of silk threatening to expose your breasts. You wonder if he’ll let go of your wrists. And if he can control himself if he does. “And I want your cock, too…obviously.” “Obviously…” he goads with the spectre of a smile. The god leans forward, nudging the silk aside with his nose and capturing a nipple with a firm suck. Loki’s thigh begins to shift against your pussy again, and a strangled moan rattles in your throat. The groans of the men fucking a few meters away reach crescendo and they tumble over the edge in a sweaty, groaning slip of sex.

“I want you everywhere,” you gasp, losing any shred of remaining modesty with the smear of your heat against his leathers. “My cunt, my mouth, my ass—” “—Like them?” he stammers, thick brows drawn together. “—Like them. I want you so deep inside me I forget my own name, want your skin smacking my shoulders, want you pulling me onto your cock as you fuck me like I’m in heat and you can’t control it—” “—More,” Loki gasps, and your eyes fly open. His face is twisted with furious need, lines deep in his forehead, strands of onyx hair buffeting at his lips. His thigh slips against your slit – it’s absolutely soaked, and his hands tremble where he’s holding you in place. The words that shape your lips are calculated in their depravity: aimed to kill. “I want your cum dripping between my thighs; dripping between my breasts…” At that, Loki groans. “I’ll lick it off myself…before I suck you clean, and swallow everything you have left…my prince.” Loki’s jaw slackens like the orgasm shattering him is an unseen foe with a knife to his neck. The jolt in his hips sends the thick thigh driving against your clit and you crumble right alongside him with a garbled cry of his name. He falls on top of you in a mess of ferocious need; lips working, breath gasping from your lungs and the beat of his heart strong against your ribs. But still, his hands don’t leave your wrists.

“You are a wonder,” he breathes, galaxies swimming in his pleasure-drunk stare. And for a moment, you forget that you’re a means to an end; that after the Rite you’ll go back to being a nobody - and you believe him.  

Loki barely has his wits back when someone clears their throat at the door. “Your brother - Prince Loki.” “My what?” “Your brother, the crown prince. He’s outside.” “Nine hels. What does he want?” Loki didn’t wait for the man to respond – he’d save the wretch that particular misery, and Loki’s misery at having to listen to the bluster of his explanation. He dips to your cheek, drawing his nose down the line of your cheekbone, inhaling against your sweat-damp skin. “I’ll return shortly,” he whispers. And below him, you shiver. A thrill spreads in sharp veins under his flesh. Loki strides past the guard looking at the ceiling while his cheeks flush an alarming shade of scarlet – and the door shuts quickly behind them. Thor stands with his arms folded, one ill-groomed eyebrow rising as he says, “Are the reports true? That your Rite partner is in there?” Loki can’t contain the eye-roll. “If you think I’m so foolish as to compromise myself at the eleventh hour before my ascension to the royal line; then truly there is no hope for you, brother. And she has a name, you know.” Thor’s gaze drops sceptically to his thigh. “What’s that?” He gestures to the glistening slick down one of the leather-clad quad muscles. Norns. “It’s not breaking the rules, I checked.”

With a flick of his fingers, the slick evaporates. And even though he’s sure (almost, sure), Loki rubs his fingertips together. Nothing. He breathes a secret sigh of relief. It would just be like Thor to ruin everything without actually intending to. “Of course you did, Loki. How studious of you.” “Can you spell that?” He snorts. “Besides, your partner was Lady Sif – you had centuries to cultivate the bond. And father and mother were partners…it’s a completely different situation. I must do what I must within the confines of the ceremonial rules.” “And whose fault is that, Loki? You could’ve had your pick of partners had you not rutted through them in a jamboree of wine and carnal gluttony.” Loki’s lip twitches, and he sucks the bottom one between his teeth. “I couldn’t have selected better if I’d had the centuries to spare, actually. Not all of us need hundreds of years to woo someone.”

The bemused crunch of Thor’s brow makes a flutter of satisfaction blossom in his chest. “I assure you, brother – all aspects of the Rite of Successional Pleasure will be fulfilled, I’m sure of it.” Thor's eyes narrow. “She’s been told of the second requirement?” “No, but I believe doing so will make it unnecessarily…challenging. She doesn’t need to know, she only needs to feel.” “You realise her feelings for you must come willingly. Un-influenced by magic?”

Loki glares, spine stiffening. “I shan't need to use my powers to wring pleasure from her body, why should I require it of her heart? Is that so hard to believe?” “In such a short amount of time? Yes, brother. I’ve known you over a millennia, and most days I still don’t care for you.” Loki’s fist flexes at his side as Thor, regrettably, continues. “The Rite is an expression of our benevolence to bestow pleasure on another freely, but it is also a test of our means to win their affections; their loyalty.” “And I will not fail,” he snaps. He and Thor stare at each other, unblinking, until his brother breaks first with a long, whittling sigh. “I hope you’re right, brother,” he says. “And be more careful, it would be unfortunate if you were to be undone by your own…passions, as usual.”

Heat prickles beneath Loki’s skin. “What would you know of my passions? Thor’s cape flutters as he turns, before glancing over his shoulder: ignoring him. “As much as it pains me, choosing Fandral as your partner for the Rite may be the wiser choice…it’s not too late. You know he already harbours those feelings for you – the deep ones the ritual requires. If there is any doubt, brother—”

“—There is no doubt,” Loki lies, fingernails digging in to the soft flesh of his palm. “I still have two moons until the ceremony– wars have been won in less.” He keeps his expression flat as Thor’s eyes soften. “If only love was as simple as war, brother,” he says in one of those rare displays of wisdom that make Loki want to punch him in the face. “She’s not one of us. I would say try not to break her heart, but it’s inevitable, is it not.” It isn’t a question. Loki swallows as his brother’s footsteps fade, glancing back to the golden door. He waves his hand, releasing the enchantment muffling the guard’s ears.

“Get her out of there,” he murmurs. “Escort her, offer my apologies; instruct her to change, and meet me in the gardens at sunrise.” "My prince, she will ask—" "—Sunrise," he snaps. A pain throbs behind his eyes.

The guard nods, and Loki tries to ignore the pulse of his heartbeat in his throat, and the unfamiliar itch of guilt spreading with every echoing thud of his boots around Asgard’s gilded halls.

Next Chapter: Illusion & Truth The Masterlist for The Rite is HERE Comments in tags ❤️ Plz be silly with me 🍰🥳

[covetyou]

ghosted

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.

A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛

(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)

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If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.

You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.

That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.

It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.

It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.

What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.

As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.

And you didn't want to feel any of it.

When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.

The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.

Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.

You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.

But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.

This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.

The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.

And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.

There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.

"Hi."

You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.

"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."

It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.

"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.

Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.

When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.

It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.

Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.

"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.

You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.

The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.

"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"

"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"

"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.

"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"

You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.

" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."

"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."

"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.

"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"

"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."

You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.

"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."

Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.

He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.

"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."

Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.

"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."

"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."

You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.

We.

As in us.

As in together.

And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.

"Okay."

With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.

"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."

"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."

And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.

He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.

"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."

"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."

You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.

With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."

"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."

His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.

You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.

And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.

"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.

"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"

Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.

There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.

You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.

"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"

He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.

"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."

"What is it then, smartass."

"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."

Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.

"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.

"That's what I call it!"

"Yeah? It good?"

His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.

A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.

Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.

"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."

"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."

"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"

"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."

Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.

"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"

You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.

"Mhm."

"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"

"Thought about you too."

"When you were usin' this?"

You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.

"Can I use it on you?"

You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.

Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.

And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.

As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.

"So you just stick it on, huh?"

"Lube. With lube."

His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.

"That good enough?"

And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.

"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"

"You been counting?"

"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."

He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.

And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.

The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.

"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"

"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."

"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.

"Ohh, f- "

"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."

"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"

"Mm."

"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."

"Fuck."

"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."

"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."

"There?"

"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.

And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.

You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.

He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.

With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.

"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."

Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.

"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.

"Take 'em off."

"Came here for you, not me."

"And if I want you to come for me?"

Joel blinks.

"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.

Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.

He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."

"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.

It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.

Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.

"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"

And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.

It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.

But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.

You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.

It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.

Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.

And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.

He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.

"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."

He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.

When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.

The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.

You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.

And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups@wannab-urs@bean-is-reading@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@youandmeand5bucks-blog@bbyanarchist@vickywallace@kamcrazy123@valkyreally@ashhlsstuff@a-literal-goblin@ariundercovers@iluvurfather@stevie75@toxicanonymity@thesevi0lentdelights@sp00kymulderr

[luviwon]

FAMILY DINNER FINGERING | k.sn

kinktober day 18! back to the masterlist here!

☆ fiancé!sunoo x reader

; it didn’t take long for everyone in your family to hear about your engagement, so they organised a dinner to celebrate the two of you. but truth be told, can sunoo really keep his hands away from you under the eyes of other people? or will he just not give a damn about it and let his fingers do their trick?

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

the cool evening breeze ruffled the hem of your dress as you and sunoo stood in front of your parents' house, warm light spilling out from the windows. the faint murmur of laughter and clinking dishes drifted through the air, reminding you of all the family gatherings you’d been to here—only this time, it was different. tonight, your family was celebrating your engagement, and it would be the first time they'd see sunoo as more than just your boyfriend.

sunoo shifted beside you, his fingers tightening around the gift bag he held—a neatly wrapped bottle of wine and a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers peeking out. his other hand was firmly gripping yours, thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a small but steady comfort. “are you nervous?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was that familiar glint in his eyes, the one that always told you he was teasing, even if just a little.

“a little,” you admitted, giving a small smile. “you?”

he leaned closer, bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “only about how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night,” he murmured, the playful tone sending a shiver down your spine. “especially when you look so pretty like this.”

you shot him a look, your cheeks flushing instantly. “sunoo,” you warned, but it was hard to sound stern when he looked at you like that, his eyes twinkling with mischief, lips pulled into a smile that was too sweet to be innocent.

“what?” he laughed, tilting his head slightly, the strands of his perfectly styled hair catching the light. “it’s true. you’re gorgeous.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to press the doorbell. “i’m just stating facts, baby.”

the door opened almost immediately, your mom beaming as she greeted you both. “there they are! oh, sunoo, thank you for bringing these,” she said, taking the gift bag from him with a grateful smile. “come in, come in. everyone’s been waiting to see you.”

sunoo stepped inside, his arm slipping around your waist as you followed your mom through the familiar hallways. you could feel the warmth of his hand against your lower back, the touch subtle, but there—like he needed to feel you close, even if it was just for a moment.

“you didn’t have to bring anything, really,” your mom said, leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was gathered.

“it’s nothing, really,” sunoo replied smoothly, flashing her that dazzling smile that you knew could melt hearts. “i just wanted to make a good impression, especially since this is the first time i’m here as, you know, the future son-in-law.” he glanced at you, his eyes softening, and your heart skipped a beat.

“well, you’re already part of the family, sunoo,” your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked over. “but we’re happy to make it official. come on, sit down, both of you. dinner’s almost ready.”

you found yourselves on the couch, sunoo’s arm still loosely draped around your waist. he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “you’re doing great, by the way. not nervous at all, huh?”

you turned to him, ready to roll your eyes, but before you could say anything, he kissed you—just a light, quick peck that made your heart flutter. “stop that,” you whispered, but he only grinned, his fingers grazing the side of your thigh, hidden from view by the way you were sitting.

“why?” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “it’s cute when you blush.”

you barely had time to respond before your aunt called out from across the room, “so, how did he propose? was it romantic?”

“oh, it was beautiful,” you said, smiling as you remembered that day. but before you could continue, sunoo jumped in, his eyes twinkling.

“it was perfect,” he said, his voice a little louder now, drawing everyone’s attention. “i took her to the spot where we had our first date, and then i got down on one knee…” his fingers brushed higher up your leg, making you shift slightly. “and she said yes, obviously. i mean, who could resist me?”

the room erupted in laughter, and you had to bite back a smile. leave it to sunoo to make your proposal story sound both romantic and slightly cocky. still, you couldn’t deny how much you loved that about him.

throughout the night, sunoo’s touches grew bolder—his hand slipping under the tablecloth to rest on your knee, fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. it was subtle, careful, and yet each touch sent a spark through you, making it hard to focus on the conversation. he kept his expression perfectly innocent, smiling and chatting with your family as if nothing was happening, but you could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he glanced at you, his lips curving into that small, knowing smirk.

“are you okay, dear?” your grandma asked at one point, noticing how you’d been a little quieter than usual.

“oh, i’m fine,” you said, quickly forcing a smile. “just... enjoying the food.”

sunoo’s hand slipped higher up your thigh, squeezing gently, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. “yeah, she’s just... savoring everything,” he added, his voice smooth, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

you shot him a glare, but it only made his grin widen. “sunoo,” you hissed under your breath, but he just leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear again.

“what?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “you’re the one who said you weren’t nervous.”

(currently crying over this scene)

"i'm not" you claimed, straightening your posture with a confident smile, opposite to how you were actually feeling inside: overwhelmed by sunoo's hands constantly touching parts of your body, regardless of them being more or less vulgar. your fiance offered a smirk in response, one full of hidden dirty thoughts, almost like he had planned this the whole night, or maybe he did because he already knew how he wouldn't be able to resist you when you look so yummy in that dress.

"then you wouldn't mind if i did this, right?" were his last words before the tip of his fingers, long now lost under the material of your skirt, pressed against your panties softly, surprised when he noticed how wet they were already. he gasped quietly, trying hard to hold himself back from dragging you to the upstairs bathroom, pushing you over the sink and fucking you blind, like there was no tomorrow. so basically the usual, but this time in a house that did not belong to yous personally,

"sunoo," you whispered again, reading on his face that he doesn't plan on sitting back as long as he knows how drenched you are for him and how loud your cunt is screaming to be stretched out again by him, this time on the dinner table if possible. "shh", sunoo tried to stop you from talking, taking a look around to make sure no one is watching before pulling your panties higher, the tight material separating your folds and giving sunoo more access to your pussy.

your eyes became wider, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quite and legs crossing to stop him from touching you more, but sunoo effortlessly pushed your legs back apart, just as he was talking to your mother about wedding plans. "we are basically thinking of just having a small ceremony with close friends and family members, maybe even bringing everyone on an exotic island to celebrate the event. isn't that right, babe?" he turned to face you, an innocent smile on his face despite what his fingers were doing under your dress.

just as you were preparing to answer, sunoo pulled your panties higher again, then pressed his index against your clit, rubbing it slowly but precisely, giving you a hard time to maintain your cool. "y-yeah.." you whispered, your fiance still teasing you mercilessly, like he couldn't care less that everyone had their eyes on you now. he loved teasing you, playing with you, watching how hard you are trying to resist and hold your whining back. he knew how sensitive your clit was and how much wetter you got just by his fingers brushing agaisnt it.

he loved seeing how much you suffer to be quiet.

"are you okay, darling?" your aunt asked unexpectedly, leaving the plate with dessert in front of you then walking around the table to give everyone their fair share. you nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to say anything else aloud. sunoo chuckled, "she is just nervous about the wedding, don't worry. i will take care of her just right so she can forget about this whole stress"

"that's so sweet! y/n, you are so lucky to have sunoo by your side", your cousin exclaimed, rushing to eat the piece of cake that was waiting for her. right, so lucky to have sunoo calming you down, isn't that correct? by pulling your panties to the side after being done with teasing you, to be more exact, and slide his index slowly inside your soaked pussy, almost slipping inside you.

yet he just calmly started eating, holding the spoon in his free hand, almost oblivious to how much you were struggling.

"aren't you having any cake, dear?" your dad asked, savoring his in a rush as well, but your fiance answered in your place "i think she is already full" he claimed, sliding his middle finger inside you along with the previous one and pushing them deep inside you, curling the top of them to feel your cunt all over. you left your head down, biting your nails to mask how all over the place you were, your right hand wrapping around sunoo's arm trying to make him stop, but with that gesture he just started moving them inside you, in and out, slow enough so your wet sounds will not be noticeable,

even though he died to show everyone how much of a slut you were for him, being finger fucked under the table in front of your whole family.

his excitement grew higher when you clenched around him as he added a third finger to the equation. you couldn't hold it no longer and let a soft moan out, making everyone turn their heads towards you. sunoo noticed that too, and trying to hide his smirk, he stopped eating and held our face, his fingers moving faster inside you as he whispered "do you feel sick, babe", like he didn't just make it worse by your legs trembling at his rhythm, and you tried to nod. sunoo sighed, curling his fingers more inside you and repeatedly feeling your stomach, unable to control himself.

"let's get some air, then" he suggested, and with a final push, his fingers left your miserable cunt, not before cleaning themselves against your thigh, your cream painting your skin behind the dress.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Training

Joe Rantz X Ulbrickson!Reader

Summary: When Joe Rantz meets his coach's daughter. He develops a crush...

Warning: 18+/ blowjob/ Swearing/ Mean Joyce (she's a sweetheart, but in this, she's annoying)/ historical sexism/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: Guys! I just watched The boys in the Boat and I'm in love with Joe Rantz. Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy❤️

The first training for the new rowing team. Al Ulbrickson, his daughter and other people made their way to the dock. ‘’Honey, can you go upstairs? The boys need their maximum focus, it’s their first training and I don’t want them to be distracted by you.’’ Her father asked. Normally, she would’ve complained, saying it wasn’t fair. But her father was already stressed, so she nodded and went upstairs, to watch the training while she did her homework. She was studying to be a teacher, even though it wasn’t her first choice, she wanted to help design the boats, but engineering wasn’t an option for woman. ‘’Distracting, yeah, my outfit is distracting, its like a million degrees outside, try wearing a blouse!’’ she whispered, complaining about her father. She also wore pants, just like her mother. She liked skirts, but pants were better. She pulled her things out of her bag and started to work.

He was exhausted and his body hurt. The other guys on the team went away, but when he saw a light upstairs, he decided to let his curiosity win. She heard footsteps coming up, but when a man that was not her dad opened the door, she was surprised. But she recognized him, he was in class with her. ‘’Oh, sorry I thought the room was empty. ‘’ He said. ‘’Hey you’re Joe Rantz, right?’’ she asked. He looked at her, he thought that she was beautiful, and really cool for wearing pants. ‘’Yeah, but I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.’’ he said, shyly. ‘’Don’t worry, I’m Y/n’’ she extended her hand. They shook hands. His were rough, it showed that his body was tired. ‘’Rough day?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, what are you doing up here alone?’’ he asked. ‘’Uh, my dad is, uh, the coach’’ she mumbled. ‘’And he didn’t want me to be by the dock, he was scared that I would distract the boys.’’ She was nervous, but for no reason at all. He was really handsome, and it intimidated her, usually, she didn’t have trouble speaking with boys. But that blonde boy was making it hard to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Well, he’s right, you’re really pretty, and I would’ve been distracted.’’ He flirted. She blushed and bit her bottom lip. Just when she was going to say something, her dad comes in the office. ‘’Y/n let’s – Joe, what are you doing here?’’ he asks. ‘’Nothing coach, I, uh, I thought someone let one of the lights open, so I came to check’’ he stutters. ‘’It’s okay, dad, he and I have a class together, I know him’’ Y/n came to his rescue. ‘’Alright, go home, get some rest. Come on Y/n, I’ll bring you back to your dorm.’’ He spoke. She decided to stay on campus, she wanted her parents to have the house for themselves and she wanted the hole experience.

Weeks passed since they first met, they kept talking and they sat next to each other in class. But now, he couldn’t be fins, today was the first race and coach wanted them to be there early. Joe was at the library, when he was about to leave, a girl he went to school with stopped him. ‘’You’re Joe Rantz, I remember you, you had a huge crush on me in 4th grade’’ Joyce rambled. Joe wanted nothing more than leave, to avoid being late, but Joyce was holding him. Y/n was running in the halls to try and find the missing blonde, when she ran past the library, she finally found him, with Joyce. She entered the room, sweating from the running she just did. ‘’Finally, Joe!’’ she said, walking up to him. Joyce stared at her, judging her. ‘’Joe, we have to go, you’re almost late.’’ She panted. ‘’Hi, I’m Joyce! And this is Joe, but he’s nervous right now, so he’s not very chatty’’ she said. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes, but she managed to put a fake smile on her lips. ‘’Nice to meet you, and I know who he is. Come on’’ he was packing his stuff as Joyce walked away. ‘’By the way, did you ever lose that crush?’’ she teased as she left the room. Joe wanted to explain that she was just a friend, and an annoying fan. ‘’Y/n – ‘’ she cut him off. ‘’I don’t care, explain later, you have to go!’’ she rushed him.

He'd just won the race! He felt so happy! He’d work so hard to get there, and now he just won his first race. She felt so happy! Her dad’s team just won! They were gonna have a party to celebrate. She decided to leave to go and get ready, she had the perfect dress for the occasion. It was a baby blue long dress with small puffy short sleeves. It was simple, but really pretty, she let her long hair down and putted white heels on. 2 hours later, she stepped inside the reception room, with the loud music. She didn’t see Joe, but he saw her. The second she stepped in the room, he spotted her. Joyce was becoming a problem, not wanting to leave him. ‘’Joyce, you’re really great, but please I need space.’’ He said, trying not to sound mean. The second she left him, Joe almost ran to Y/n. She saw him walking towards her, Joyce was not with him, so she smiled. ‘’Hi!’’ he said. She had to lean in to reach his ear do they could hear the other. ‘’Hi, congratulations on the win!’’ she said. He had trouble hearing her. After they tried to yell in the other’s ear, the decided to go somewhere quiet. They went to her dorm room, she was on the first floor, the only room there. Being the Coach’s daughter had its privileges. When she shut the door, they were both standing up. ‘’Look, Y/n about earlier. – ‘’ he begun. ‘’Joe, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re an adult, you do what you want, with who you want, as long as it doesn’t affect the team, your okay’’ she said, hiding the pain in her voice. She didn’t want him to be with Joyce. She developed a crush on him over the past weeks. He did too, he thought she was amazing, and so smart. ‘’Y/n, I don’t care about Joyce. And I don’t have a crush on her, I have a crush on you!’’ he confessed, his confession wasn’t supposed to be heard. She blushed and smile. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry I – ‘’ she cut him off by quickly kissing him. She kissed him before her brain starts to panic. When they broke the kiss, he was red, so was she. ‘’I have a crush on you too, Joe’’ she admitted. She saw that he was not believing what just happened, so she pulled him by the tie and kissed him again. ‘’You deserve a reward for your win today’’ she whispered.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t the most experienced person on earth. When she said those words, he thought he was going to faint. ‘’I know your stiff, and we don’t want to make it worse, sit down’’ she said, pointing her bed. He didn’t know what she was going to do, but when she straddled his lap to kiss him, he knew that she was in charge. ‘’You’re okay with this?’’ she asked him. He nodded and kissed her again. ‘’You trust me?’’ he nodded again. She felt him get hard underneath her, so when she dropped to her knees, she took his pants with her. He never got sucked before, the guys on the team said it was amazing, he was about to find out. She spat on his dick, before taking him in her mouth. He was big, but she’d done it before, so she didn’t gag. She started to bob her head at a medium pace, not wanting to torture him, but not making him cum too fast. ‘’Holy shit’’ he moaned as his hand found her hair. He felt really good, he was so excited. He just won a race, and the girl he has a crush on, feels the same thing, and is currently sucking him off. He was in heaven. She felt him jerk his hips a little, after all, he didn’t do it for a long time. And he had roommates, it was hard to jerk off. She took him further down her throat, making him moan again. ‘’Y/n, oh my, this is a-a-amazing. Shit’’ his brain was starting to malfunction. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moaned on his dick. The vibration from the sound she just made drove him crazy. ‘’ I’m gonna cum, shit Y/n, I’m gonna – ‘’ his sentence was cut short by his orgasm. His sperm went down her throat as she swallowed. He was feeling euphoric. She got up, wiping her mouth. She smiled at him, seeing how beautiful he was.

‘’Thank you, it was amazing.’’ He praised her. She blushed and looked at him while he laid down in her bed. She went to lay next to him. ‘’I’m really proud of you, Joe Rantz’’ she whispered. ‘’And I really like you, Y/n Ulbrickson’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘’When you win in Berlin, would you let me wear the gold medal?’’ she asked him. ‘’Of course I will, so does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?’’ he asked. ‘’Do you want me to be your girlfriend?’’ she asked, joy in her voice. ‘’I would love for you to be my girlfriend’’ he replied. ‘’Then yes, I’m your girlfriend, Joe.’’

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hellooo

are you accepting requests?

if so could you please write me one where reader is a journalist on the grid and basically everybody is flirting with her yk tryna bed her but shes only gonna let one of them do it

and shes like pretty assertive and dom, making the boys beg her to fuck them

you could pick who she fucks from lando, carlos or charles

sorry if this is too much i couldnt help it <33

Not really but I’m trying to do some while I finish the series I have on the go so I guess kind of??? My inbox is a gamble at the moment hahaha 💕

Say Please || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, sub!lando, dom!reader, edging, overstim. WC: 1.6k

F1 Masterlist

Miami was really bringing the heat and every rising degree was only intensified by the black asphalt beneath your heels. You were in desperate need of shade as you wandered the pit lane to observe some of the teams but that would have to wait. There were people to interview and notes to write so you could have your editorial piece ready by the end of the weekend. 

“Oh, there she is!” 

Lando’s voice carried on the warm breeze and you tipped your head to the sound before turning in his direction. The driver was nearly tripping over himself and Carlos to reach you first, Charles following behind with an amused smile.

“Hi Lan,” you greeted the winner of the impromptu race as he skidded to a halt in front of you. “I didn’t see you when I made the rounds in McLaren.”

His smile turned to a disappointed frown at the news and he groaned. “Ah man, I missed you.”

“You haven’t come by Ferrari yet, have you?” Carlos asked, hope filling his face as he waited for your answer.

“Not yet.” His hand closed to a fist and he punched the air making you laugh. “I haven’t taken a break yet and I’m dying of thirst.”

Lando held up one finger to wait as he ran back to his garage and returned with a bottle of chilled water. “I can get you something else if you want…whatever you want.”

Carlos suddenly rushed off and came back with a plate of club sandwiches and, not to be outdone, Charles retrieved an umbrella to shield you from the sun. 

“My heroes,” you praised, giving them each a kiss on the cheek and enjoying the way their skin turned a rosy shade of pink.

Lando was the one who gave a giddy giggle and cupped his face as the blush spread down his neck. “You can have my driver's room if you want to get out of the sun. You’re so hot. I mean, you must be hot.” 

“Mine’s bigger,” Carlos said as he stood a little straighter and leaned his elbow on Lando’s shoulder. “Because size obviously matters.”

“Not to me,” you smirked. They three men watched as your fingers wrapped around the bottle, twisting the cap off before sealing your lips around the tip. The cool water was just what you needed to battle the heat and you moaned with satisfaction after swallowing it down. “Mmm, that’s better.”

“So, uh, what, um, what does matter to you?” Lando asked with a sheepish look on his face. 

You stepped towards the three of them and curled a finger until you were all huddled close in a tight circle. “You want to know what makes me hotter than this place?”

A round of eager nods bobbed around you and they leaned on even closer so you could feel their breaths on your face. 

Pushing your sunglasses up your head, you looked each of them in the eyes and smirked and one by one they broke away first and looked down. When their heads were almost bowed to you, you finally answered them. “Nothing gets me wet like seeing my little pet submitting to me, down on his knees, willing to do everything to please me, begging for my attention.”

Lando’s legs looked ready to collapse beneath him and you knew from the moment you met that he had such potential. He wanted to please, he wanted to serve and was always the first to race to be at your side like an excitable puppy. 

“Just one?” Carlos asked after a sharp intake of air refilled his frozen lungs. At your nod he peered at his friends with an edge that promised a strong competition. Charles narrowed his eyes in return, promising it wouldn’t be an easy competition, but Lando just looked down in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you curled your finger beneath his chin to see his sad eyes. 

Those pretty blue eyes flicked to the Ferrari drivers before returning to his feet. “They have more experience than me. I don’t have a chance.” You started to retreat with a sigh, feeling bad for putting such pressure on the man, but he caught your hand. “Please,” he begged, “just give me a chance, please?”

The warmth that radiated your body had nothing to do with Miami and everything to do with the needy desperation in Lando’s voice. It sent your heart racing and smiled sweetly as you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Good boy,” you praised. “All you had to do was say please.”

Lando’s eyes were screwed shut but it did nothing to stop the tears from leaking out as he bit his lip to hold back the whimper. 

“Good pet, just a little longer,” you soothed as you wiped away the salty streaks down his cheeks. “You’re doing so well.”

His dark lashes fluttered before they opened to show you a glimpse of the ocean, the waves shimmering in his tears. “Please, I can’t…I’m gonna cum…”

“Hold it,” you ordered as your hands returned to his weeping cock, the head red and swollen from edging him for so long. The vibrating ring was tight around his thick base and the veins that ran along his shaft grew bolder with each passing second. “You have such a pretty cock, my pet.”

His hands twisted against the restraints tied to the headboard, his wrists just as red as his face as he forced himself to refrain from spilling his seed over his lap. The taut skin over his balls pulled even tighter as you licked the delicate seam between them and you heard him moan as you felt his cock twitch in your hand. The sight of him laid out before you was incredibly beautiful but the whimper that fell from his lips was the pinnacle of perfection and for that you just had to reward him. 

“Go on, bub, you’ve been so good for me, you can come.” 

His entire body shuddered with the permission you gave him and his back arched off the bed as he erupted. There was no other way to describe his release as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of cum spattered across his stomach that rose and fell with quick pants. 

“Holy shit,” Lando moaned as he tried to regain his breath but you weren’t finished with him yet. Your thumbs milked every drop out of him, massaging him using his own cum to glide smoothly over his silken skin until he whimpered from the overstimulation. 

“I knew you would be the one,” you praised as you reached up to pull the slip knot on the ropes, releasing his arms that fell slack across the pillows. “You are the perfect little pet for me.”

You kissed his forehead before peppering them down his cheeks and finally reaching his lips that parted for you with a heady mewl. Combing your fingers through his damp curls, you pulled away and fluffed up his pillows to make him comfortable while he came down from the high he had endured. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Lando nodded weakly, expended of all his energy, and you went to the bathroom to run a washcloth under the warm water. His deep hum of appreciation warmed your chest as you cleaned the mess from his hard abs before drying him off and dragging the blankets up the bed. 

“Roll over, sweetie,” you coaxed him softly until he turned on his side and you climbed into the bed behind him. His head nestled onto one arm as your other draped over waist and you held him tight until the soft tremors of his strained muscles began to ease. “How was that for you?”

Lando’s small giggle made you smile and you kissed the beauty spot on his shoulder blade while you waited for an answer. When a few seconds passed and he hadn’t spoken you shifted closer so you could see his dopey smile. 

“I need an answer, Lan,” you gently reminded him, “out loud.”

“It was…” he shook his head trying to clear the haze that clouded his thoughts so he could think of the word he was searching for. “Mind blowing. Overwhelming. Amazing.” He started to fall quiet and you watched as more feeling flitted across his face. “A little scary to start.”

You hid the frown that wanted to pinch your brow and kept the soft smile on your lips, not wanting to miss the opportunity to keep him open with his thoughts. “What can I do to make it better?”

“N-nothing,” he stammered. “I just didn’t know what to expect. It was one thing to talk about it but I guess I just…experiencing it was more. I liked it. I really liked it.”

“So you would do it again?” You didn’t even get all the words out before he was nodding eagerly and you chuckled as you pulled him tighter into your embrace, tutting when his hand started to run up your leg. “Get some rest first, bub. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“But I want to make you feel good too.”

“You did,” you murmured as you nuzzled the back of his neck until you saw the goosebumps spread across his skin. “I enjoyed everything we did, and I will enjoy more of you later when you have rested.”

“Do you promise?”

You chuckled at the needy tone and drew small circles with your fingertips around his navel. “You’ll soon learn, my little pet, all you have to do is say please.”

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery

[vlassk]

Keeper

Stanford Pines x Reader

She/ her Reader

After learning of Stanleys past with Ford y/n, she decided she wouldn't be getting close to the twin. But she finds it difficult as Ford is just so damn cute.

Warning: age gap, angst, 18+ later on. Swearing. Pervy Ford(lmk if i missed any) not proofread as i no no wanna

You had lived in Gravity Falls for a couple of years now. Stumbling upon it, one winter road trip and falling in love with the beauty. As the years went on, you made good friends, including one neighbor. Stanford Pines was always one person you could talk to about the supernatural. Although he liked to pretend it wasn't real or not as big of a deal, he would always hear you out on your discovery in the town.

You being in your early 30s, the friendship was awkward at first. You saw the faces around town from friends and passer bys. But as time went on, people saw that it was simply platonic.

You spend most of your free time helping him around the house and grabbing food together. He told you about his time in prison and everything about his brother Stanley...

You would linger on his brother. Knowing how horrible he treated Stan and how he would never hear Stan out. Being the Better Brother. The days were good. You ran a local Inn a little out of town. The primary owner would travel most of the time.

One summer though The lnn that you ran shut down. And your manager had to let you go.

"Ughhh, what im i going to do! My place of living! My job!" You slam your head on the table, a loud thud being heard

"Kid, why dont you just ask your parents for some help? Im sure they will under -" Stan lifted up your head to place a small pillow under your face.

"No! Do you know how disappointed they will be?! YEARS of Tuistion for West Coast Tech just to run an Inn?! In a small town! Stan...stanford pines they would kill me and bring me back home..." You plead out looking up only to cry more and slam your head back down, the pillow guarding you.

" y/n you haven't told them?!" Stan yells out, only making you cry more. He paces the room and looks towards you. His frustration leaves when an idea pops into his head.

He sits next to you at the table

"Ya know.. my great niece and nephew are visiting once summer. Break starts...ill need someone to watch the store, maybe evenbuild some cool robot stuff for the shop! Ya know, wendy likes, so take her days off... you could even stay here in the storage closet..." He lays his hand on your back.

Your breathing slows as you look up at Stan.

"Really..." You wipe your tears away, going to hug the old man.

"But you gatta tell your parents at least"

"Fine..."

A couple of months had passed, and you were now a normal part of the household. Mable and Dipper always took you on adventures. You never realized how many crazy creatures were around. You would always come home and help stan though, building him add ons to his favorite chair, making animotronics for the shack. You know things were going wrong when the Fbi arrested Stanford. You remember looking at him as he was taken away. A sad look on your eyes.

" y/n, please. Its not true they dont know what they are talking about!"

You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say.

You looked over the kids, trying to prove his innocence when they found a code for the vending machine. Soos stood in the way of the machine, and mable threw glitter at him to make him move.

As you made your way into the basement, you could only think of the worst things.

What if he wasn't really Stanford. What if he was someone else. What if everything was a lie like they say. Are you even safe.

You hold onto Mables hand as Soos led the way. Once you get to the bottom, you see all the tech Mable goes on about how Stans is the same man and he loves us. All you can think about is all the tips you gave Stanford on how to fix or build different things. Dipper finds the 2 journals putting all 3 together to see the blueprints of something.

You only look at the basements, build, scan the area, hear Dipper Freak out, but your mind races, and you can't focus on his words. You look at the countdown reading 1 minute. Dipper and mable run into the next room. Turning keys. The strange Build glows. Before Dipper can press the shutdown button Stan runs in

"Dont touch that button!"

You turn to see Stan walking through the door, picking up his pace to you all.

"Dipper, just back away! Please dont press that button, you gatta, trust me!" Stan pleads. Slowing as he sees that Dippers hand is hovering over the red button.

"I should trust you. Why?!. After you stole that radioactive waste?! After you lied to us ALL summer?! I dont even know who you are!"

"I know all this is nuts, but i need that machine to stay on!" A beep is heard after Stans pleads. You start to float up with the rest as the triangle structure opens up. A space like portal opens

"STANFORD?!" You scream out. trying to reach for your friend.

"Dipper!" Mable screams, her foot caught on a wire holding her close to the button

"MABLE HURRY SHUT IT DOWN," Dipper screams out from across the room.

"Stan, why wouldn't you tell me?!" You cry out. Your hair floating around you.

"Kid...i couldn't. I didn't know how!"

As mable crawls her way down stan tries to float towards her, soos swooping in to tackle stan

"Soos, what are you doing?!i gave you an order." Stan struggles between Soos

"Sorry Mrs pines if that is your real name, but i have a new job now! Protecting these kids!" Soos tries to push him away from Mable.

"Soos, you idiot let me go!" Stan continues to reach out. You kept floating. trying to go back down.

Dipper goes to tackle stan as well. You find a way to get to mable holding her down as you both hover over the button.

As Stanley pleads with you both, you see mable tear up.

"Grunkle Stan,"Mable says between tears. "i don't even know, if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but"

"Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan breaks from Dipper and Soos.

The computer reads 20 seconds. A power surges through making you float away from mable. You hit the roof of the. Building,The others fly against the rooms walls.

" I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!"

"Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper cries out.

Mable looks up to see you, floating closer to the portal. You glanse back at stans pleading with your eyes. Stan gives you a nod.Mable watches as you close your eyes. Relaxing your body

"Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"

" He's lying! Shut it down NOW!"

"Mable please"

Ten Nine

"Grunkle stan"

Six five

"I trust you"

"MABEL, ARE YOU CRAZY?! WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

Mable lets go floating up to grab onto your leg. Pulling you closer and away from going through the portal.

One...

Screams are heard as a light blast blows up.

The light shooting through the whole town.

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a figure in front of the portal

"...stan..." You pull your head up from the ground

"What who is that?" Dipper stands

"The author of the journals..." Stanford also stands up.

You see, the man pulls off his goggles, revealing a face just like stans. He looks down at you. As you slowly sit yourself up. You're the closest one to him.

"My brother..." Stan sighs

"Is the the part where one of us faints.." mable giggles

"Ohoho, I am so on it, dude" soos faints on cue. Falling to the floor.

"Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!"

You watch as the man you're assuming Stanley walks up and punches Stanford.

"This was an insanely risky move – restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?!"

"Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?"

"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you DID, THIRTY YEARS AGO?!"

"What I did? Why, you ungrateful...

Stanley pins Stanfords arms. As they bicker, the man slams him on the ground. "

"Get off him, you asshole," you shove Stanley off Stanford. Mable stands next to you

"Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question – WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

"Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here... And some sort of large, hairless gopher? And... uh, " you see the mans eyes dart from top to bottom, then back to the top.

"A woman..."

"Heh heh. I get that a lot." You laugh at Soos. As he smiles back at you. You watch as Stan eyes you. Wondering what thoughts he could be having.

"They're your family, Poindexter. Shermie's grandkids." Stanford rolls his eyes.

"I-I have a niece and nephew? Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time."

He bends down to shake mables hand

"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!"

"Heha, I like this kid. She's weird."

"And you are?" He extends his hand to you. You ignore it and turn away.

"A friend of Stans..."

Stanley Huffs turning back around

"I-I can't believe it. You're the author of the journals!" Dipper fanboys

"You've read my journals?"

You don't listen to the conversation, but you help Stanford up. He thanks you as he stands. You see stanley eyeing you both out of the corner of your eyes. You dart your eyes towards him, making him look off.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mable sits back down on some rubble.

"Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley." The man walks over ignoring you to the next if his abilities

"Stanley..."dipper puts a finger to his chin

"But your name is stanford..." mable questions

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You leap forward at stan, soos catching you

"Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!"

"Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers – What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper exclaims.

"And what happened between you and your brother?" Maybe points at stan angered.

"Im hoping all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed."

You stop struggling against soos. Only to pause and give him a confused look.

"Stanf-...stanley why do you keep lying to me?!" You plead with the old man

"Kid listen... i did what i had to do"

"No. I won't accept that. Tell me why. Was everything about Him even true? " You point to the other man.

The now understood Stanley sighs. I looked up from his brows.

"Everything about HIM is correct. I just switched the names..." he shrugs. With another sigh, he leans against the wall, telling the tale of the two brothers.

As they both took turns telling their upbringing, you couldn't help but watch the twin. He would smile at the good times, and you would catch him watching you as well.

You had to admit he was handsome. You never saw Stan in a way, but Stanford was totally different even with the same face.

If you, too, matched eyes, you would simply roll them and look away. Even though you were curious about this handsome man.

"Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! 2000!" Mable triez to push the men together.

"Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. "

"I already know all this..." You walk off sitting in the room where the portal once was. You could still hear the conversation. Noting again at the Dream school Stanford wanted to go to... but couldn't. You burrowed your face in your legs. Conflicted, you never thought you'd meet him. You were so angry at all the things he did to your friend. But knowing everything and knowing he's alive. Could you be nicer to him?

You hear a Scream and turn to look at the room, dipper fan boys over the journals.

"just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."

"I began to keep a journal..."

Dipper screams again. You walk into the room staring at the child. He looks up at you and calms himself down.

"Just going to ignore that..."

He goes on you decide to sit back in the room with the others.

As they retell the fight, you can't help but stare at Stanford. Aggravated at every word he says.

He pauses for a moment. Staring just as intensely

"What is your problem?" Stanford exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"You... you are my problem. you're dangerous. " he looks shocked at your words. And leans back a bit, not knowing what to say.The story finishes as the agents from upstairs get closer. Stanford makes a plan. Telling everyone to stay put as he travels upstairs.

Mable hears the agents leave and runs upstairs with your protest

"Great-uncle Stanford, that was amazing!"

"Let's not go crazy; it was serviceable."

"Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford."

You stand on the porch. Watching the kids talk to Ford. You catch glimses of him looking at you. Your heart beats faster when he does. Is this anger? You're not nervous..are you?Stan pushes the kids off to bed. He turns to look at you. He mouths out 'stay'. You fix your posture, waiting to wave the kids off while they go inside. Saying a goodbye to Soos and moving towards Stan.

You punch Stans arm

"Ouch why me?!"

"That's for lying to me, you big idiot! Dont do that again!"You furrow your eyebrows. Stan frowns, rubbing his arm. You go in for a hug. Letting go just as fast and looking at Ford.

"So...who are you agai-" you cut him off by slapping him. Both stan and fords face in shock.

" That's for building such a STUPID machine... and hurting my friend!"

Stan begins to laugh. Resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Who even are you?!" The man shouts, angerly walking towards the house. The sun is going down.

" haha shes a keeper! Now Y/n go to bed. I gatta catch up with this man..."

"What's the point of me staying behind?"You shrug your shoulders. Pushing the old man slightly a small okay left your lips.

"No hard feelings, old man?" You smile and walk away, turning around to point finger guns at both men, going into the house and upstairs to your room.

"Old man? Rude, " Ford says under his breath

The two men head in as well. I'm sitting at the table to talk. Catching up on the little things

"Nothing so bad, ya know... people come and go...?"

"Hmm...and that women you keep around?"

"Huh? Women? Haha, that's Y/n. She's a good friend.."

"Just friend?"

"Of course! She's a good kid. Takes care of Dipper and Mable and always makes great adjustments to her past works. " Stan leans back in his chair, talking about you normally

"Past works? What does that even mean" Ford questions.

"Ah, she's a graduate of West Coast tech... some phds in some stuff i dont really pay attention. But she makes awesome stuff. Let me tell ya, " Stan points to a few things you've improved or added.

"Wait, she went to WCT?? Wait, why is she here with you?" Ford laughs still in shock of your success.

"She's been a friend of mine for a while now. She used to work at an Inn that closed down, so i gave her a place to work and sleep. Listen, i felt bad leaving her alone. She needed someone"

"Interesting... " fords mind goes off. Picturing you again. How angry you looked at him, the disappointment when you would stare. But how beautiful you are. How every time you looked at him with hate or pity, all he could see was the opposite.

"I know that look,"Stan leans forward

"What look?" Ford looks away at anything but his brother.

"That look... you stay away from her..." stans eyebrows furrow. His fist on the table

"I dont even know what you're talking about." Ford looks away again, and this finds his head resting on his hand.

"Stay. Away." Stanley gets up.

"But... I'm happy you're home," he holds his hand out. Ford takes it, and they get up to go to bed. Stopping by the bathroom for one last conversation, you can't help but too listen in on.

[runa-falls]

Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)

In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((

Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)

Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏

GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...

thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE

masterlist

--

sometimes miguel comes home in silence.

he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.

you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.

sometimes he doesn't come back at all.

sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.

miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.

he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.

the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.

he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.

so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.

and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.

---

today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.

he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.

even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.

he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.

you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.

he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.

this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.

his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.

he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.

slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.

ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.

it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?

there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.

like how it was before. how it could've been.

your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.

so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?

by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.

you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.

you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.

"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."

"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."

you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.

"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.

his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.

you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --

"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.

of course, he's tired. he should be tired.

"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.

it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.

"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.

"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.

"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."

he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."

"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."

his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"

his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.

but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.

"yes, really."

"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"

"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.

before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.

"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"

"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.

his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.

"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.

you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.

"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."

"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."

you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.

"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"

"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"

an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...

"i-i could--"

"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.

you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.

you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.

you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.

"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"

his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.

"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."

your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.

you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.

you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.

"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.

"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.

"...i want you to."

"really?"

"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."

"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.

you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.

he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.

miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.

he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.

he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.

he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.

his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.

"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.

you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.

"baby, enough, please."

you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.

"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.

"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.

[eloquent-edits]

AAAAA DO YOU HAVE MORE FWB PROMPTS THAT SEVERELY TOW THE LINE OF A AND B BEING IN LOVE 😭🩷??

BOY DO I HAHA

🗡️ How can I be friends with this thing called love?

you don’t love me, let me hold you again 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

Character A and Character B carpool to events together and usually they take that time to rile each other up, but it’s shifting to deeper, more vulnerable conversations

A, known for hardly ever dressing up, decides to throw B for a loop and go full out for one of their sessions (B has to bite their tongue on telling A they’re beautiful)

B is an absolute sucker for head scratches and A knows this, so they take every chance they can to give that to B

A brings a slice of cake from a family event over to B’s place out of love kindness, and apparently it is B’s favorite flavor (A stows this knowledge away and brings B that cake whenever possible)

“You know, my parents commented that I seem a lot more relaxed and happy around you.” “Seems like I just have that effect on people.”

A is very careful about what’s allowed to be said in bed, but B slips up once and it hits A like a TRUCK oh my gods they want to hear that again and again and again

A takes B out to a park at midnight to spar and they end up sprawled in the grass, laughing and holding each other close while watching the stars above

B sheepishly admits that they sometimes want to save A’s pictures—but not the spicy or sexy ones, just the everyday casual ones!

B pops into the background of A’s call ONCE and later, Character C asks if that’s A’s new partner (this is legitimately what happened to me LMAO)

Both are accident-prone, so a lot of time is spent tending to wounds and ensuring the other person is not in pain

A originally had a boundary of not kissing B goodnight for their emotional sanity, but they accidentally did it once and keep meaning to stop but they dON’T

“Your kisses are so sweet,” B murmurs as A’s lips trace and press against their skin.

Character C, one of B’s best friends, hangs out with A and B twice and comments that they are cute together

^ Both blush and A pulls slightly away from B while B jokes about how terrible it is to have A around with a big grin on their face

^^ As B makes some new friends, C mentions how A is exactly what B’s been looking for over the years

Historically, A didn’t want to sleep over at a FWB’s place to keep feelings from developing, but it’s so easy for them to fall asleep next to B

^ The first time this happened, A and B woke up well-rested and tangled up in each other (which is a miracle because both of them have problems with sleep)

During the Christmas season, A’s family puts up mistletoe over the main entryway. While no one is looking, A hesitantly, carefully pulls B into a kiss under it.

A and B gravitate towards each other even across a big room full of other people, somehow knowing when the other’s gaze is on them

A has a photo collection on their fridge of their favorite moments and over time more and more photos of B are put up

“Oh how were things going with C? You seemed interested in them.” “Eh, they’re cool but we didn’t really click. The banter wasn’t as… good, y’know?” “Damn! Well, if they can’t banter then they’re not the right person for you.”

B doesn’t listen to many song recommendations from friends but goes out of their way to listen to what A suggests (“That was the worst song I’ve ever listened to, that was SO CURSED.”)

After A and B finish belting a song together, A admits that singing songs together is sort of like a love language for them

While weaving through a crowd, A takes B’s hand to keep them close (and totally doesn’t forget to let go until much, much later)

B pulls away as A tries to kiss them deeper, more passionately. Thumb caressing their cheek, B whispers, “I want to take this slow. I… want to remember this moment.”

[daisyvisions]

✦ Day 21 - Food Play

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: neighbor!Eric x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.7K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), food play (using syrup), fingering, lots of nipple play here, mutual pining, strength kink (if you squint), pet name (sweetheart), kinda fluff but like smutty fluff lol, sexual innuendo mentioned

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My brain was in rest mode it was so hard to think of how this would go until the idea finally struck when I was supposed to go to sleep 🙃 Hope you enjoy this one! Actually proofread.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

It had almost been a week since Eric had moved into the apartment across from yours.

After you came back from your morning walk to the nearest coffee shop, you bumped into your landlord, stopping for a moment to have a small chat with them.

"Oh! By the way, there's a new guy moving in across from you."

"Is he a cranky middle-aged man again?" You joke.

"No, not at all. I think he's around your age actually! You might actually get along with this one." She winks, but you don't understand what she was implying.

"Cool, I'll be sure to give him the usual first-day greeting!"

As soon as you reached your floor, you spotted a number of moving boxes outside. You quickly reminisced about the first time you moved into your apartment. How stressful it was bringing in all the boxes and unpacking each one. So you decided to bake something for your new neighbor as a form of sustenance and get your chance to say hello.

You rang the doorbell, balancing on the heels of your feet as you held a box of lemon bars in one hand.

While waiting for him to respond, you wondered what he might be like. Did he keep to himself? Was he a nosy neighbor? Was he the type to blast music and keep you up at night? Did he bring any people ho-

The door suddenly swings open, and you're greeted with an image you weren't expecting at all. Beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, hair slightly damp, a towel hanging from his shoulder, and... Oh no. He's shirtless.

"Uh, can I help you?" He looks at you with curiosity. You almost don't hear him the first time as your eyes quickly scan his toned chest.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt!" You try to play it cool. "I live right across from you, wanted to drop by to say hello." You smile at him. He looks up and down at you for a moment, licking his lips before smiling back at you. She's cute.

"I'm Eric." He extends his hand to you. You try to compose yourself, feeling the rough and firm grip of his handshake. You say your name in return.

"I, baked you something. Thought you needed some energy from all the moving in."

"Oh, right, um, thank you." He shyly replies, trying not to make a fool out of himself.

There's an awkward pause between you, the music coming from the other side of his door faintly playing in the background.

"Well... if you need anything, you know where to find me. Nice meeting you again, Eric!"

"Oh, I definitely will. See you around, neighbor." He winks at you before taking the box of baked goods from your hand.

Before you start blushing in front of him, you turn around and walk straight into your apartment. You lean your back against the door as soon as you close it. Your heart racing just from that tiny interaction with your new hot neighbor. You suddenly shake off the incoming butterflies in your stomach.

Before you even set foot in the living room, you hear a knock at your door. When you walk back to open it, you catch Eric mid-way through knocking on your door again.

"Sorry, I know you just got in, but I just have to say your lemon bars were really good." He exaggerates, spotting a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm glad you liked them! I could make more for you if you want?" You ask.

"Actually... I was thinking maybe you could teach me how. Kinda suck at cooking, to be honest. Between you and me..." Eric motions his finger for you to come closer.

"Might've been the reason why I got kicked out of my old apartment." He chuckles.

"Well, lucky for you, I love to cook. So I'll make sure you won't burn our floor to the ground." You joke back.

"Perfect, are you free this weekend?" He asks.

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do." You smile.

"Great, I'll see you then."

"And where do I pour this again?"

"Just in the mixer, Eric." You chuckle at the man next to you.

"You got it!" He points at you with finger guns as he grabs the vanilla extract. You both smile at each other, enjoying each other's company while music plays in the background.

At first, you felt very nervous about having Eric over. Worried that you might become too obvious with your attraction towards him and scare him off. But to your surprise, spending time and getting to know him was very calming.

"Okay, now after pouring, just turn on the mixer for a few seconds." He nods his head at your instruction. After turning off the mixer, Eric slightly dips his clean finger into the batter to taste the mixture.

"Oh my god, this is so good!" He groans.

"Eric... It hasn't even been baked yet."

"No, try it! I swear." He dips another clean finger into the batter and holds his finger out in front of you.

"No, no, it's okay. I can get it myself." You nervously say, trying not to blush at what he wants you to do.

"C'mon now, before it spills over." His batter-dipped finger still hanging in front of you.

"O-okay..." You grab his hand in yours and raise it a little higher, leaning forward to take his finger in your mouth.

Eric's breath hitches as you slowly swirl your tongue around his digit, your eyes never leaving his.

"T-taste good?" He stutters.

"Mhm." You hum in response, hollowing your cheeks to suck the batter completely clean off his finger. Releasing it with a pop.

"H-holy shit..." He mumbles, caught in a daze watching you suck his finger clean.

To be completely honest, he did it as a joke. He was not expecting you to actually lick the batter from his finger at all. The whole act makes his cock twitch in his pants.

You don't even know where your boldness came from. But you liked the confidence it brought you, seeing Eric get all flustered from what you just did. Mentally patting yourself on the back for adding that popping sound at the end.

You turn around before making things more awkward than they are, grabbing the baking pan on the counter to prepare pouring the batter.

"Okay, now that the batter is good, we can finally start to bake-" You suddenly feel Eric's hands grab your waist, spinning you around to face him as he instantly smashes his lips against yours.

Both your lips move oddly at first until they find the perfect groove. Your arms slowly wrap themselves around his neck as he leans his hands on the edge of the counter, caging your body under his.

You kiss one another passionately until you pull away for a moment to catch your breath.

"I knew from the moment you rang my doorbell I was a goner." He smiles at you. “Thought about you every night since we met.”

Before you can even respond back, he grabs your waist and hoists you up, making you sit at the edge of the counter before diving back in to kiss you some more.

Your hands find their way through his hair, tugging them as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans, squeezing your waist before pulling down the straps of your sundress to kiss your exposed chest.

"So pretty..." he mumbles against your skin, littering as many kisses as he can while massaging your breasts with his strong hands.

As you close your eyes and play with his hair, Eric spots a bottle of syrup in the corner of his eye. He grabs the bottle with his free hand and releases your nipple from his mouth, pulling himself away from you for a moment to open the bottle.

"Hold still..." he inverts the bottle and squeezes the syrup onto your chest, making sure the syrup covers your nipples in the process.

You gasp at the feeling of the liquid slowly rolling down your skin but instantly moan as you feel the tip of Eric's tongue following the trail of the syrup as he cleans it off your body.

His tongue flicking and sucking each nipple in the process, making your back arch at his touch.

You feel your core throbbing slowly, secretly wanting to relieve yourself of the ache. But it's like Eric read your mind as he brings his hand to your inner thigh, massaging it before moving it closer to your core. His finger hooks your panty to the side before plunging two fingers inside your cunt.

The squelching sound of your dripping hole becomes audible as soon as he pumps his fingers in you at a fast pace.

You utter what Eric thinks is the most angelic moan he's ever heard in his life, motivating him to keep pumping his fingers inside you as he continues to lick the syrup off your chest.

"Oh, Eric..." you moan out his name as you arch your back more, your arms resting behind you to keep yourself balanced. The slurping sounds he makes as he continues to lick your chest have you nearing your edge.

"Fuck, you're getting tighter around my fingers. Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" He lifts his head to look at you.

"Yes! Yes! I wanna cum-"

"Then cum for me, cum all over my fingers." He increases the pace of his fingers, rubbing his thumb on your clit to help you reach your high faster.

Your high hits you like a tidal wave, making you cum so hard you're practically seeing stars. You hear Eric catching his breath as you come down from your high.

"That was fucking hot..." Eric looks at you with hazy eyes. Chest heaving as if he-

"Did you just?" Your eyes widen at the discovery.

"Yeah, I did..." his cheeks glow red in embarrassment. "Best dessert I've ever had." You giggle at his remark.

"Actually, I'm pretty good at making this one recipe. I can show you if you want." He adds.

You tilt your head to the side. "Oh? For what dessert?" He smirks at you as he squeezes your waist once more,

"Creampies..."

[cheeriecherrymain]

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 11/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 4.1k

warnings - minor injury. lots of social media posts. chapter starts off in first person!!

***

It’s a comfortably warm morning in Monaco, the café I’ve been asked to go to is quaint - tucked away in a narrow street off of the beaten path but you get a perfect view of anyone coming towards you. A waiting game to see which of the people who cross my path is going to be her. I can’t help but study every woman who steps onto the cobblestones, but as soon as I see none other than Charles Leclerc come around the corner, hand in hand with a woman - it all clicks into place.

Y/n y/l/n is Thirty.

Both of them greet me with a smile and a warm handshake as they step inside the cafe - bringing a cool breeze in as they open the door. Charles looks smart in a linen shirt, chain around his neck, and a watch more expensive than a regular person’s annual salary on his wrist. And y/n looks effortlessly beautiful in a sundress to complement the warm weather, before I can start digging into her being Thirty I have to ask about her perfume - her signature smell is to die for. She laughs, pulling out a travel size from her purse to offer it to me, swearing she has a full size at home.

As you can imagine, I have a lot of questions. But let’s just start at the beginning, how did the whole Faceless driver idea come about?

Y/n leans back in her seat a little, Charles’ tanned arm is draped lazily across the back and he uses his hand to squeeze her shoulder.

Ferrari were really interested in having me as part of the team but it was risky y’know? A woman, let alone an 18 year old woman in one of the top teams was unheard of.

She pauses as the waiter takes our order, Charles ordering for us all in Italian - I can’t help but notice the way y/n studies him, a soft sparkle in her eye. Their relationship seems easy and when she turns her attention back to me, she seems a little more sure of herself.

I was part of the Ferrari academy since I joined GP3, but that and then F2 just never felt truly challenging to me and I craved more. F1 was where I belonged, it was just about getting there. I believe it was Maurizio Arrivabene who ended up suggesting keeping my identity a secret. The press from that alone brought in more sponsors than the team had ever seen and as you know, Ferrari has never had much difficulty with that.

Her answers are rehearsed, not in a media trained way, but in a way of a woman who has had to keep her identity a secret for her whole career and is finally getting to speak the truth. I understand why she would want Charles here, her teammate and boyfriend is a calming presence - keeping quiet as he knows she deserves the spotlight after all these years.

You never won a championship in F2, how did you convince them that you were good enough for F1?

She takes a sip of her drink, taking a deep breath before softly shrugging her shoulders as if she’s not entirely sure herself.

I spent a lot of time in simulators and they could see what I could do on track from the races in F2 and GP3 that I did win. I like to think it was never a question of if I was talented enough for F1, not to be cocky, but I knew I was - it was whether or not it was worth risking me in Ferrari or if maybe I should start in a sister team. But in the end, it was for the best. I won them two championships after all, so I’d like to think that it was worth it.

Speaking of championships, not only are you the only woman to win the WDC but also the youngest overall, how did you feel?

A fond smile tugs at her lips and she reaches into her bag to pull out a small stack of photos. She slides one across the table to me - it’s of her in her driver’s room, helmet off but still in her full kit with her arms wrapped around the trophy that won her the title. I asked her who took it and she told me it was ‘Seb’ - Sebastian Vettel.

I was so overwhelmed. Everything I had ever dreamed of had come true but I couldn’t share it with anyone outside of Team Thirty and, of course, Seb. He brought a bottle of champagne up to my room and we drank the whole thing. It was one of the best days of my life, wouldn’t change it. If being faceless was what gave me the opportunity to accomplish my dream? Then I’m grateful for it.

And then you won your second in 2018, how was that?

Even better than the first time. Lewis and I had such an intense rivalry for those couple of years that it was such a strong feeling of victory. We raced so well against each other and really brought out the best in each other, I think. I’m not sure if he feels the same but I’m glad that we got to share that experience.

The couple both offer me another drink in unison when they notice I’ve finished mine, sharing a soft laugh when they realise. Charles leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before taking our empty cups up to the counter to get us some more coffees. The two seemed so in sync as teammates, it’s no surprise that they work well as a couple too.

How was the transition when Charles joined the team? You’d been teammates with Sebastian for your entire career up until that point.

Honestly? It was a little scary at first. Seb was a mentor for me and when I had to meet Charles properly for the first time I was worried about how he would react. But, he’s been nothing but good to me. Before we started dating he’d always sneak into my driver’s room to keep me company and made sure that no matter how my race went - I had someone to talk to about it. He’s become my rock and I’m so lucky to have him.

He pushes me to be better, but has never let me be anything but myself.

When Charles returns to the table with a tray with fresh cups of coffee, he hands them out to us before sitting down - shuffling his chair closer to y/n so he can fully drape his arm across her shoulders. She relaxes in his hold, looking away from me for a moment to thank him for the drinks.

I know we’re interviewing y/n, but Charles, what was it like having to keep formula one’s biggest secret?

Difficult. He frowns a little. The amount of times I wanted to properly congratulate y/n or correct people when they said he was insane. I know I may get in trouble for this but I think keeping her hidden for so long was a mistake. Other women and girls should’ve been able to know that one of them was a formula 1 racer and a champion. She’s one of the greatest of our generation and she should’ve been celebrated properly.

I can see she’s touched by Charles’ words, despite - I’m sure - he’s said them to her before. This article is about learning about Thirty, yes, but I don’t think I can truly do that justice without talking about how the pair of them interact. I’m not sure whether it’s the years they’ve been teammates or the time they’ve been a couple but they just complement each other so easily.

So, you were teammates through 2020 and 2021, how did this relationship happen and why now?

The two of them share a look, one - as a journalist - I’m familiar with; whilst they do truly seem to care for each other, I have a suspicion there’s something they can’t tell me. But I don’t press.

I think during 2020 we were still just strangers, getting to know each other as people and as teammates. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of Team Thirty meetings or on the track y’know? And then 2021 I was in that title fight right up to the end so it just didn’t seem like the right time as I couldn’t really give him the attention he deserved.

We did begin to really become friends during 2021, he would make the extra effort to see me outside of meetings. And whilst Charles has since told me that he’s had these feelings for a long time, it took me a little longer. We’re definitely a case of he fell first, but I fell harder. I’m so smitten with this boy, you have no idea.

Charles was watching her as she spoke, the undeniable pink tinge of his cheeks was hard to miss. No matter what they were keeping to themselves, it was clear the two of them were very happy together. But it was time for more questions about the Thirty of it all.

So, why now? You’ve been faceless for nearly 6 years, what changed?

Well, after it leaked that I was a woman and I won the race in Imola - Team Thirty and I had a very big meeting about it. I’ve been ready to face the world for a while but with the team determined for another championship win this year, it was originally put on the back burner. But, I knew it was time. This year I could win my 3rd title and I wanted to do it with my face, my name not just a number.

I’ve also had so much support from both Charles and Sebastian with this. They helped me figure out just what to say to the team to convince them that now is the right time. I don’t know how long I’ve got left in this sport but I want to be here as y/n for at least some of it.

She excuses herself from the table to go to the restroom, that same fragrance from before following her as she walks past me. Charles sips at his coffee before leaning forward a little as if he’s got something juicy to share. I can’t help but be intrigued, leaning in also to listen.

She’s gonna do it, you know. The WDC is hers this year.

What about you? I ask. Shocked that he’d admit it about his teammate, he’s the Tifosi’s golden boy and is ahead of her in terms of points. He simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

I think now she’s got this out in the open, there’s truly nothing holding her back. She’s going to be unstoppable behind the wheel- this weight of her secret won’t weigh her down anymore. Yes, I want to be world champion, and you bet I’m going to fight for it until the very end… but I would be lying if I didn’t think she deserved it.

He straightens up in his seat as she returns, smiling as she leans down to kiss him before taking her seat - asking if she missed anything important. I know she’ll read what Charles said when the article is released but for now I keep it to myself, simply shaking my head.

Okay, let’s mix it up, get to know y/n a little more. What is your favourite track and why?

I think Bahrain is always going to hold a special place in my heart, I got my first win there. But, if I had to choose an all time favourite…I think it has to be a tie between Imola and Monza. Being surrounded by the Tifosi in such hoards really makes you want to do your best. Seeing oceans of red as you drive around is inspiring knowing all these people are in your corner. Now, I know in recent years, they’ve taken a particular liking to a certain Monaco native but they always showed me nothing but support and I hope they continue to do so now they know who I am.

Speaking of the Tifosi, do you have anything you want to say to them?

I mostly want to thank them for being my biggest supporters despite not knowing who was beneath the helmet. Thank you a million over Tifosi, I love you guys more than you’ll ever know.

Who was your racing hero growing up?

Oh there’s so many drivers out there I love but Susie Wolff for sure - she’s such an inspiration to women everywhere. And I know it’s probably silly but Lella Lombardi too, I know she only got half a point in her career but she made it into formula one when everything was against her and other women. But as a kid, it had to be Michael Schumacher. I met him a couple of times and he was nothing but kind to me. He was always honest with me that it was going to be tougher being a girl but he always believed in me and that… that was everything.

We’ve also heard through the grapevine that you’ve been approached by several other teams for next season, anything we should know there?

She smiles softly before shaking her head. Ferrari have actually matched the best offer I received, but at the end of the day they’re the team I want to race with so we’ve extended my contract for at least one more season - hopefully more. Besides, I’ve got the best teammate a girl could ask for.

Charles chuckled softly. Back at you, mon amour.

I think that’s all I really have to ask for now, thank you both so much for meeting with me. I’m not sure what I expected but you exceeded my expectations.

Oh wow, thank you so much. Thank you for being so kind… If I ever need to do another interview, you’ll be the first person I call. That’s for sure.

So there you have it, y/n y/ln is our mystery driver. I don’t know about you but I cannot wait to see what she does now that she’s been unmasked. This season has just got very interesting.

***

***

You weren’t a fool, you knew there was going to be a little push-back to your reveal - but there was a very loud minority who made it abundantly clear just how much they hated you, that they just didn’t believe you could possibly be the driver they had been supporting all these years. Within an hour of GQ releasing the article, #NotMyThirty was trending within the F1 community. They’d called you every insult under the sun and it was hard to focus on the praise when they were so loud and the press focused so much on the criticism. It didn’t help that once you’d been revealed, a certain Redbull team principal decided you weren’t worth the offer they made and he very publicly retracted it.

“Y/n, cherie.” You felt the mattress sink next to you as Charles sat beside you on the bed - the duvet pulled over your head. “We need to go soon, have a plane to catch.”

“...why don’t they just get Jenson to do it. Or better yet, get Michael up and on his feet so he can get in the car when I couldn’t possibly be a two time world champion.” You grumbled. “I’m just a stupid paddock-bunny.”

Charles frowned softly. “Hey. Those idiots have no idea what they’re talking about. You’re one of the greatest talents of our generation, they’re just jealous fools who couldn’t get into the sport if they tried.”

The Monegasque smiled softly as you peeked over the top of the duvet. It was hard for you to believe him but you knew he was going to sit there until he got you out of bed - so you put on your best fake smile. “You always know just what to say, huh?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling a gentle hum from you. “Mhmm hmm, I’ve got a talent for it. Now seriously, get your beautiful butt out of bed… we’ve got a flight to catch.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when you arrived in Miami, Charles’ hand wrapped around yours as you both stepped into the paddock. The cameras and press were on you in a literal flash, you simply smiled and waved a little. “Hey, y/n, look.”

When you followed the direction of Charles’ finger, your heart skipped a beat when you saw fans at the barrier with signs for you. The loud minority who despised you were currently nowhere to be seen - people shouting and cheering. Your boyfriend was positively beaming as he tugged you over to them, you couldn’t believe people actually wanted your autograph and pictures with you.

You could feel tears prickling in your eyes when a young girl told you just how much it meant to her that she had a female idol in the sport. It was hard not wrap your arms around her and never let go so instead you took a photo with her. “I got you a present… made it as soon as I found out you were a girl like me, it’s a bit messy ‘cus I didn’t have a lot of time.”

As you held your hand out, she slipped a bracelet around your wrist - it was made out of chunky plastic beads; flowers, fake pearls and the word Thirty written out in pink. It was the girliest thing you had ever seen but you could tell just how much it meant to the girl - her little eyes sparkling as she waited for your response.

“I love it! Thank you so much!” You grinned. “Hey, I’ve got something for you as well.”

You took your cap off of your head and scribbled your signature on the brim before sitting it atop her head. “Think this suits you much better.”

Your heart felt full as she turned to her Dad and bounced with glee, showing off her brand new present. You smiled softly and as you turned to Charles, you were suddenly hit with a sharp pain in the side of the head, right by your eyebrow - making you wince and reach up, eyes widening when you pulled your hand back and you saw blood on your fingers. You only just saw a glimpse of security dragging a man shouting expletives away from the crowd. “Oh my god, y/n, are you okay?”

“Yeah uh… what..” You blinked a few times, feeling a little dizzy, eyes scanning the floor to see what he’d hit you with - eyes landing on a crumpled up can, as you pushed your toe against it, you could feel there was still some liquid in it. “I… I uh…I think I should probably go to the medical centre, just to be safe.”

“Of course, shit, yeah.” Charles looped an arm around your waist and helped you through the paddock. Before you left, you caught the eyes of the young girl again and the look on her face broke you - she looked terrified. She was the walking personification of how you felt in that moment.

You had to fight back the tears as the two of you walked through the paddock - the memory of meeting some of your fans for the first time, tainted forever by that one dickhead in a Redbull cap. You were expecting some hatred, but you weren’t expecting physical violence. As you stepped into the medical centre, you were immediately ushered into a room and patched up.

“I can’t believe he did that, cherie. I’m so sorry… I-I should’ve been paying better attention.”

Your brow furrowed as you got up from the exam table, the medic having left the two of you alone. Charles stood against the wall, head lowered as you crossed the room to join him.

“Hey, hey.” You took his face in your hands. “Don’t you dare, you couldn’t have known he was going to do that… I… I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”

“Y/n-”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I just… I knew there was going to be some backlash but, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this…”

“Cherie-”

“Can I just be alone for a little while, please? I’ll catch up with you later.”

Your teammate’s eyes flickered across you, you could tell he wanted to protest but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. The lights in the room hummed softly as you sat down in the empty chair beside the exam table, covering your face with your hands and letting out a soft sob.

Being unmasked was what you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember, but you hadn’t taken the time to really think about exactly what that meant. That your face, your name would be out there for everyone to pick apart. You wanted to put on a brave face and go out there, pretend it didn’t bother you but it did.

None of your achievements mattered - all that they cared about is that you were a woman, a fake, the drivers’ personal mattress. And your relationship with Charles was thrown right back in your face, the defending Ferrari was supposed to be doing didn’t seem to be helping at all. Any time the PR team spoke to the press, people always had some sort of comeback - another reason to add to the list of why you didn’t deserve any of it.

You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shove all of the cruel accusations to the back of your head as you left the medical centre. As you turned towards the Ferrari motorhome, you saw Lewis leant against the wall - foot propped up against the wall as he scrolled on his phone, no one even batting an eye at him. He looked up at the sound of the door closing and gave you a gentle smile, pushing his phone into his pocket. “Hey, I just came to check if you’re okay. I heard what happened.”

“Said it was gonna come up as a bit of a black-eye but I’ll be alright.” You shrugged.

“I’m more worried about how you’re feeling, y/n. I know no one knows what you’re going through right now but I’ve been through similar enough crap to know that it’s not fun being singled out for something you can’t help.” His voice was soft as he stepped closer. “And I know it’s easier said than done but you just gotta try and ignore it.”

“...I don’t know if I can.” Your voice cracked. “Th-They’re attacking insecurities I didn’t even know I had. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Lewis.”

He looked around the paddock before checking his watch. “We’ve got some time, come with me.”

You lowered your head and followed your fellow driver into the Mercedes motorhome through a back entrance and up to his room - his dark eyes flickering back to you to make sure you were following close behind him. With a hand on the small of your back he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind. “You should probably text Charles, let him know you’re here.”

“Uh yeah… Yeah, good idea.”After texting your boyfriend, you sat beside your rival on the sofa, his arm draped across the back. “They’re going to crucify me if I have any bad races. Any mistake, any slip up… they’re going to drag me to hell and back. I just… I know I should ignore it, I do, but it’s hard to ignore when it’s smacking me in the side of the face.”

“”I know, I get it. I’ve been there… you just need to try and remember you’re not alone. I’ve got your back, so do Charles, Max and Sebastian. Don’t disappear into yourself, okay?” His voice was gentle but firm, but it just felt so quiet compared to the throbbing pain you felt in your temple.

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Thank you… I should get going.”

You were taken a little aback when you were pulled into a hug as you stood, his strong arms would’ve made you feel safe in any other circumstance you were sure - but you just felt so defeated by it all. You gave him a gentle squeeze before heading towards your own garage, Charles throwing you a worried look from his side - still unsure how you’d ended up with Lewis. You simply nodded at him before popping into a side room to get into your racegear, ready to get into the car for the first time without your mask on.

“Hey, how’s the suit fit?” Your trainer approached you, a gentle smile on his face. “Must feel good that it’s finally got your name on it, right?”

“Uh yeah, it fits good.” To the untrained eye, the smile on your face was simply of a distracted person - getting ready to race, but Charles could read you like a book and he just knew something was wrong. Something more than a slight headache and the bruise blossoming around your eye was weighing you down and getting into the car in the mental headspace you were in was trouble waiting to happen.

But before he could cross over to you, try and clear your head just a little bit, he was summoned for first practice - one of his mechanics ushering him over to his car, allowing the driver to get one final glance at you as you pulled your helmet over your head.

All he could do now was hope that you wouldn’t get in your own way - as having a bad weekend would just sink you deeper into the feeling you weren’t good enough. You were a champion for a reason. But the minority who despised you were tearing you down, blocking your view from who you truly were and he hated that.

You took a deep breath from inside the cockpit, trying your best to block out the voices bouncing around your head as your engineer went over the programmes you would be running during the session. You just had to do well this weekend, no, not just well… you had to win. Everything was resting on your shoulders, they expected results now you were unmasked.

And you were terrified of what they’d do if you didn't.

***

************************

Next part >>>

Really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! There will be no chapter next weekend because I’m going to Silverstone 🏎️

Thank you for all your support on this fic!

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[tedwardremus]

Jilytober Day 18

Prompt: Neighbors

Lily carefully pulled the cherry pie from the oven, the rich, fruity aroma filling the kitchen. She smiled to herself, satisfied that her mum’s recipe had worked its usual magic (well it wasn’t really magic but it was probably the closest thing a muggle could manage). As she set the pie down to cool, James leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a familiar glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he began, “only old people bring welcome baskets to the neighbors. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, anway? We just moved here—we should be the ones receiving baked goods.”

Lily rolled her eyes, wiping her hands on a towel. “It’s just a nice thing to do, James. Thoughtful, even.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James smirked. “But still—cherry pie?”

“You love cherry pie!”

“Then why don’t you offer me a slice?”

Lily ignored James’ teasing as she carefully wrapped the pie and made her way to the front doors to deliver the pie to their neighbor’s house. James trailed behind her, an amused grin on his face.

“I thought you said this whole thing was silly,” Lily said, glancing back at him. “So why are you following me?”

James flashed her a crooked grin. “I’d follow you anywhere, my love. That’s what being a good husband means.”

Lily couldn’t help but laugh as she knocked on the neighbor’s door. “Merlin, you’re insufferable.”

“True,” James agreed. “But you love me anyway.”

The door swung open to reveal an older woman with sharp eyes and a kind, yet weathered face.

James’ jaw dropped. "P-Professor Bagshot?"

Lily blinked in surprise at the name, but before she could react, James had launched into full fan mode. "It’s an honor to meet you," he gushed, stepping forward. "I’m James Potter and I made you this pie!" Without a second thought, he yanked the pie out of Lily’s hands and thrust it into the elderly historian’s grasp, all while Lily stifled her laughter beside him.

"Did you, now?" Professor Bathilda Bagshot raised an eyebrow, her wrinkled face breaking into an amused smile. "Well, thank you, Mr. Potter."

James was undeterred, starstruck. "You wouldn’t believe how much your book, A History of Magic, helped me and my friends with a certain… project," he babbled as she stepped aside to invite them in. "Honestly, it was crucial in our studies and extracurricular activities."

Lily chuckled quietly, giving James a nudge as they followed Professor Bagshot inside. "So now you’re a master pie baker, huh?," she whispered. "You going to leave me for your favorite textbook author?"

James ignored her, still babbling on about Bagshot’s works. "Do you still keep up with wizarding history? I mean, your insights on Goblin Wars were revolutionary! I’ve read your chapter on the 17th-century werewolf hunts at least three times. Do you know how many secret passageways there are in Hogwarts? You might be interested in my research."

"I can’t take him anywhere," Lily muttered to herself, smiling as Bagshot led them to her sitting room.

[rxmqnova]

The youngest Maximoff

Y/N: 6 years old Wanda: 18 years old Story: Wanda and her little sister move to the compound, though Wanda has to tell her little sister about their brother's death… ——————————————————

WANDA'S POV Y/N was only a newborn when the tragic accident happened and our parents died. Six years later we're moving to the Avengers compound… without another member of our family, my twin brother Pietro. It's been two weeks since he died and I still haven't told Y/N about it. I just don't know how. How do I tell a 6 year old that her brother will never come back?

"We'll be living here now?" Y/N asks with sparks in her eyes, watching the huge building in front of us.

"It's cool right?" I chuckle when I see her staring at the building with her mouth opened.

"It's so cool!" She squeals excitedly. "Pietro is there?" She asks, pointing at the building. I sigh, trying to stay strong for her and lift her up, sitting her on my hip. She's been in hiding the entire time, she has no idea what happened.

"I have to tell you something, sweetheart. We'll take our stuff in and then we'll have a little talk, okay?" I ask carefully, receiving a nod from my little sister. I take the one bag we have as we don't really have much stuff and walk towards the front door.

Y/N cuddles up to me as I carry her and the bag inside. We're greeted by Stark and Steve who are discussing something.

"There you are" Steve gives me a smile. I told him and Stark about Y/N. I'm not sure if they told the others or not, but I told these two as I need to take care of Y/N. "This is her?"

"Yeah" I nod. "This is my sister Y/N" I smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Honey, this is Steve and Tony" I tell her, pointing at the boys.

"Hi" Y/N mumbles shyly before hiding her head into the crock of my neck. She's always very shy when it comes to meeting new people.

"I'll show you your room" Steve smiles. I follow him through the compound with Y/N in my arms, playing with my hair. "I wasn't sure if you'd like to keep her with you or not, so that room is free to become Y/N's room" Steve says, pointing at the room next to mine.

"Thanks" I smile back at him.

"Okay. We're having dinner in an hour, so you two are welcomed to join" He smiles. I thank him again before walking into my new room.

Y/N looks around, mumbling about how cool and big the room is. I place our bag on the ground and sit Y/N on the bed.

"Where's Pietro's room? Can we go and say hi to him?" Y/N asks sweetly on which I sigh and sit on the bed next to her.

"Honey, I need to tell you something about Pietro" I start. I have to be gentle with her, but I just have no idea how. Y/N looks at me with her big green eyes, waiting for me to speak. "Y/N/N… Pietro won't be living here with us"

"Why?" She tilts her head in confusion. I take a deep breath before continuing.

"Because… he's not here with us anymore, sweetheart" I sigh, pushing back my tears.

"Call him to come" She says, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes filling with tears.

"I can't, honey" I whisper, a few tears escaping my eyes. "He's with mama and papa now… up there" I point up with my finger on which Y/N bursts into tears immediately. "I know, honey. I'm so sorry" I sigh, also letting my tears run. I take Y/N into my arms, rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth while placing kisses on her forehead as an attempt to calm her down.

"I want him to be here" She cries out into my neck.

"I know, my little monkey. Me too" I tell her, kissing her cheek. "Bring him back, Wanda" She cries out.

"Honey, I can't do that" I almost whisper, my response making her cry even more.

Y/N continues to cry for a long time, but I eventually get her to calm down. Now she's just sobbing in my arms, twirling her fingers around my hair which she always does when she's tired.

"Wanda?" Y/N mumbles. I hum, waiting for her to speak. She lifts her head up, looking at me with her tired puffy eyes. "You will never leave me, right?" She asks, her voice breaking.

"… I'll never leave you, sweetheart" I kiss her forehead and give her a smile on which she buries her head back into my neck, snuggling up to me.

"I love you, Wanda" I hear her mumble.

"I love you too, Y/N/N" I smile and kiss her head a few more times. "Are you hungry?" I ask, earning a quiet nod from her. "Let's change and go for dinner then"

I sit Y/N on the bed and take some shirt and sweatpants from the bag to change her into. I help her to change before quickly changing myself. I sit her onto my hip and carry her to the kitchen while she's just cuddled up to me.

We come to the kitchen and the team is already there, besides the ones who are on missions. My attempt to sit Y/N on the chair is immediately unsuccessful as Y/N's holding me for her dear life. I sigh, carrying her with me. I manage to prepare food for us and then sit her on my lap as she's refusing to sit anywhere else.

"And done" I smile, kissing Y/N's forehead as she just finished her dinner. "What would my Y/N/N like to do now?" I boop her nose with a smile, making her smile a little bit.

"Play with you" Y/N says, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Okay. But only for a little bit, because it's almost bedtime" I smile.

Y/N nods, already running away. I swear the girl is quicker than most of the Avengers and she doesn't even have powers, so I sigh and start walking after her.

NATASHA'S POV I just stepped into the compound after a mission. I let out a sigh of relief as I'm getting closer to my room. But before I actually reach the handle of the door of my room, something crashes into my legs from behind. I turn around, finding a little girl on the ground surrounded by 3 teddy bears.

"Are you okay, little one?" I kneel to her, offering her a smile. The girl only nods, but I can see the tears in her eyes as she lets out a little sob. Why do we even have a child here? "What's your name, sweetheart?" I ask with a smile, trying not to scare her.

"Y/N" She mumbles, wiping away the tear that has fallen from her eye.

"That's a really pretty name, sweetheart. I'm Natasha" I smile. "What are you doing here alone?"

"I went for my toys, so Wanda and I could play" She explains… That must be Wanda's little sister. I've heard she had one, but never asked Wanda about her or saw her, so I suppose this is her.

"You need to be careful next time, детка" I give her a smile. (baby)

"But my teddy bears are so big and I can't see when I carry them" Y/N sighs, dropping her hands on her thighs dramatically.

"Would you like me to help you?" I offer, seeing her smile and nod her head. She lifts her arms up, so I stand her on the ground, but she pouts and keeps her arms up. I sigh with a smile and sit her on my hip, handing her one of the teddy bears and taking the rest of them myself. "Where are we going?" I ask the girl in my arms.

"Kitchen!" She orders, pointing at the direction the kitchen is.

"Kitchen it is then" I smile back and start walking to the kitchen.

"Natty, where have you been the whole time?" Y/N asks, kicking her legs.

"I had a mission, sweetheart. I had to kick some bad guys' butts" I tell her, making her giggle.

"Y/N/N, are you okay? I was worried something happened to you. You can't run away like that" Wanda sighs, immediately taking Y/N into her arms.

"I met Natty" Y/N says, pointing at me with her little finger.

"Nat, I'm sorry. You must be tired from the mission. Didn't she bother you much?" Wanda asks, a hint of worry in her eyes.

"It's fine. She's adorable" I smile at Y/N, giving her tummy a little tickle which makes her laugh. Honestly, Y/N's laugh is my favorite sound now. "I'm gonna head to bed now though, I'll see you guys later" I smile, handing Wanda the teddy bears.

"Bye bye, Natty" Y/N waves me, so I wave her back, telling her 'bye bye' too.

----------------------

Part 2

Series masterlist

Masterlist

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | two.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: nothing too bad since we're still in the beginning stages of things lol, cussing, friends being supportive, friends being instigators and projecting!!, hwa still being hwa, yunho being shy and awkward but very caring

You scrambled to get your literature review done, almost forgetting that you had to send it to Yunho before officially submitting it to your professor. It's a bit past midnight when Seonghwa decides it's time to drop you off— even if it gets incredibly late, he'd prefer to drop you off at home rather than let you stay.

All Seonghwa's bullshit plans.

You yawn as you quietly step into your shared apartment, careful not to wake your roommates as you pull out your laptop and finish your lit review on the kitchen island in the dark. It fucking sucks that absolutely nothing is coming to you for this review because now, Yunho is probably going to think you're just flat out dumb for not being able to see what everyone else sees.

"Hey." You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. Seungmin groggily walks out of his room and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. "Why are you working out here in the dark? Did you just get home?" You nod.

"Mhm. Forgot I had to finish that literature review and send it to Yunho."

"Forgot already?"

"Shut up, okay? Not my favorite assignment to work on. Besides, I wanna give him some time to review it and chew my ass if he needs to. Rather him than Dr. Nelson at this point." You type away, probably hella nonsense and gibberish about the movie at this point.

"Hm." Seungmin hums as he quickly drinks his water. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't. Just gonna give this a few more words then send it off." You sigh. God, you almost regret asking Yunho [out of all people] for help. He's super smart and he always knows what he's doing. Was this the right route to go? Maybe you should've just asked Dr. Nelson and dealt with it.

"Mkay. Goodnight then, Y/N." Seungmin yawns as he drags himself back to his shared room with Soobin. You decide that you're gonna take another 10 minutes to finish off the review, giving it everything you can think of right now. If it needs tweaking or any additional details, Yunho can surely step in and help. You feel exhaustion hitting you quickly, giving your review the last bout of energy you have left before you shower and call it a night.

"Done." You say to yourself, sending it off to Yunho as an attachment. 

He probably won't look at this until later.

You make sure to double check your emails and assignments, keeping track of everything that's due and needs to be turned in—

Ding.

You peep the notification that pops up on the bottom right of your laptop screen.

"1 New Email from: Jeong Yunho (jeongyh@kq.edu)"

"What the fuck?" You mutter to yourself. It hasn't been a whole 10 minutes since you sent the email. You click on the notification anyway, letting it bring you to the new email in your student inbox.

— do you have time to meet really quickly later today? i wanna go over your review with you. cool if you can't though, just prefer to talk to you in person instead of marking up your page without any explanation to back it up.

You sigh and sit there, trying to remember your schedule for tomorrow. You do have a 45 minute break in between your morning classes. Hopefully, he's free.

— sure! i'm free from 10:15-11. does that work for you?

"1 New Email from Jeong Yunho (jeongyh@kq.edu)"

— yup, i don't have class till after lunch. i'll be working at one of the booths in the library.

You sit back and respond, feeling a bit of relief.

— cool, see you. :) thanks for your help.

Yunho sits at his desk, feeling a bit awkward and nervous even though you can't see him right now. It's probably a little pathetic at how quick he opened up your email, but to be fair, you seemed like you really needed the help and that's what he wanted to give you. You aren't necessarily writing bad reviews, since you're hitting all the right points. But, he has Dr. Nelson figured out. He doesn't want just the facts— he wants you to think outside of the box, write out the emotions, feelings, outcomes of all the actions, give examples, state what your thoughts are on how this effects the surroundings, other characters. You just need to add that little umph to your reviews and give him more than the bare minimum. Yunho gets it though, it's not easy to tap into that all the time. That's why he's here to help. 

He's hoping he can be the help you need.

"Did you come in pretty late last night or was Seungmin sleep walking?" Soobin scratches the side of his head as the two of you walk towards the library.

"No, that was me." You chuckle.

"Did Seonghwa at least walk you to the door? Cause that's late."

"Yeah right." You scoff and Soobin shakes his head. "Whatever though, he drops me off as close as possible to our building."

"Still. He should at least walk you halfway."

"Mm, yeah." Is all you respond with. "Anyway, lunch later? I have to meet with Yunho to talk about this review."

"Oh? You're actually meeting with him? That's new. I feel like that's something out of the ordinary for Yunho."

"He asked if we could so that he could explain better instead of just marking up my review." 

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah, hopefully I'm not too much of a pain in the ass."

"Doubt it. You just need a little guidance, that's all. Sure he'll be super helpful." Soobin smirks. "He seems to not go out of his way for people, maybe he likes you."

"Are you serious right now? All because I need help over a literature review." Soobin laughs.

"Just saying. I already like Yunho way more than Seonghwa."

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll see you later." You roll your eyes and enter the quieter side of the library where the booths are located. It's easy to spot Yunho, especially with that towering figure of his even while sitting. Today, he's wearing a navy and white flannel, with a grey shirt underneath. His hair falls to his face as he leans over to write some notes. He has one finger placed on a page in his textbook, while the other hand is busily writing away. He glances to and from every now and then, only looking up at his surroundings when he feels you approaching.

"Um, hi." You awkwardly stand near the booth with your books tucked against your chest. He simply looks at you before giving you a tiny, pursed smile and returning his attention to his books.

"Hey." He moves his book and notebook closer to himself in order to give you some room. "Sorry, just need to finish this right quick."

"That's okay. Take your time." You slide in awkwardly and set your books on the surface of the table. "Thanks for going over my review."

"No worries." He says softly before finishing up his notes and shutting his books closed. He brings out his laptop and types away to unlock it, pulling up your document before turning the laptop towards you. "So."

"Sorry, I know it was bad." You look at him, a little shy and embarrassed. He tilts his head a bit and furrows his brow while looking at you.

"Huh? No, it wasn't bad, Y/N." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're hitting the right points, Dr. Nelson is just super complex and wants you to use these facts a bit more." He points at a line in your review. "You talk about the characters feelings here after an upsetting moment, which is right. But, how does it affect their surroundings? Their actions, the people around them, what they get themselves into to cope. How does feeling bad branch out to all these things? Why? How does it contribute to their overall attitude, to the overall character?" You nod. 

"It seems so easy to talk about, but I don't know why I have so much trouble doing it. I feel kinda dumb." He shrugs.

"You're not. You just have to dig into the details a little more and use those examples instead of staying safe and stating what we know already. It's easy to stay safe because you know what you're stating is gonna be right. Dr. Nelson just wants a little more than that, is all."

"Thanks, Yunho." He gives you a toothless smile.

"Of course. Uh," He scratches his temple. "Let's go through everything else? So, I can be of better help to you?" You nod.

"Only if you're okay with it."

"Yeah. Just wanna make sure I help you out correctly." He lets out a shy chuckle before thoroughly going through your literature review with you. He asks you the right questions, allowing you to edit your own document on his laptop while the two of you continue to converse. He shares his thoughts and the things he's included on his review, making it easier for you to understand what you were missing and leaving out in your own.

Literature was never your favorite. You partially didn't care enough to put in enough effort, hence the lack of patience and understanding with the assignments— the lack of patience and understanding with your own professor.

As 11 closes in, you sit and look at your fully edited review feeling content. You look at Yunho, a small toothless smile on your face while he awkwardly glances around the library to avoid long eye contact. He gently taps his hands against the surface of the table, waiting for you to break the silence.

Which, you eventually do.

Thank god.

"Yunho, I feel so much better about this." You slide the laptop over to him. "Thanks for helping me, seriously. I don't know what I'd do if I had to see Dr. Nelson's comments again."

"It's not a problem." He shrugs. "I um, can continue to look at your reviews if you want?" Your eyes light up as you nod delightfully.

"Really?"

"Sure."

"I have to repay you somehow, that's too much on your plate isn't it?"

"It's not. I wouldn't offer if it was." He chuckles a bit.

"Lunch one day?"

"You don't have to."

"I would like to. Or, if our schedules don't work, we can always meet for coffee and go in on the café desserts."

"Sounds good." He smiles and pulls out his phone to slide it towards you. "Mm, do you think I can grab your number? Sorry, don't mean to be lame about it. I just figured it'd be easier instead of emailing each other. Unless that's what you.. prefer?" You chuckle and shake your head.

"No, this is totally easier. Don't worry." You plug your number in before sliding it back to me. "There."

"That's me." He says after giving you a quick ring so you can save his number on your own phone. You start to gather your things to start heading to class when you hear a familiar laugh come from one of the aisles to your right. You turn over your shoulder to catch wind of the noise, finding Seonghwa deep in conversation with another classmate, another senior girl [actually this one is probably Hyeri?] She seems to be laughing at his jokes, even though they probably aren't that funny. Somehow, the way he looks at her [along with any other female who isn't you] breaks your heart.

Breaks your heart even though there isn't anything else left to break.

Seonghwa briefly makes eye contact with you before his eyes quickly dart to Yunho, then back to Hyeri in front of him. You quietly continue to gather your things and swallow the lump forming in your throat, unsure why you allow this feeling to completely ruin your mood. Yunho takes note, for sure though. Again, he's not sure if he should feel bad because you surely knew what it was like getting tangled with Seonghwa. That was no secret on campus. However, he's an empath, and seeing that you've been kind and calm around him— he can't help but feel bad. A tiny bit sad, upset even, that you continue to let yourself mess around with Seonghwa when you deserve so much more.

Yunho challenges Seonghwa a bit though, letting his eyes linger on him until Seonghwa breaks away first. He checks on you and parts his lips slightly because he wants to say something, anything— he's just not sure what. Eventually, he settles with:

"Are you okay?" It's clear you're not and Yunho immediately feels stupid as fuck for settling with that question.

"Hm, yeah. Just tired, is all." He nods, watching as you slide out of the booth and swing your bag strap over your shoulder.

"Don't hesitate to text me if you need anything else. I'll try and help." When he says it, he's hoping you can catch onto the fact that he's someone who could listen to your troubles. He's not good with words or opening up to people, but he thinks he could at least offer that after seeing the way you sank in front of him. His eyes dart back up to you when you tuck your books back to your chest and smile at him.

"I will. Thanks again, Yunho. Lunch or coffee soon, okay?" You say sweetly before leaving him back to his lonesome.��

"How was your date with Yunho?" Soobin asks as he forks his salad and takes a big bite. You glare at him before shaking your head.

"This is how rumors spread, you idiot." Chaery smacks him on the back of the head, making him laugh but slightly wince in pain at the same time.

"I'll whoop your ass if you say that word and Yunho in the same sentence one more time." You roll your eyes. "My literature review session with him went fine. He did help me out a lot, practically added another page to my review from all the edits we made."

"That's good." Soobin says, laughing. "Are you gonna have him review your literature stuff from now on?"

"Probably, it comes so easy for him. Or, maybe I just lack the patience." You shrug. "But, his help would definitely be nice. I need to push my grade up."

"Mhm." Soobin wiggles his brows.

"He's pushing this Yunho agenda so much." You point at Soobin while looking at Chaery and she shrugs.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm on the same bloat." You glare at her. "But, I'm on your side more than anything!" She quickly bounces back, making you sigh.

"I give up." You mumble as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Suddenly, your phone vibrates off to the side, making you lazily tap your screen to see who the notification is from.

"Better not be Seonghwa." You glare at Chaery once again.

"I'm taking this to the couch." You stick your tongue out before grabbing your phone and walking over to the couch in the living room. Because it's not, and you don't really wanna deal with your teasing friends even more.

yunho: btw, i like this website if i don't really wanna dig too deep into the details

yunho: it's a good website that summarizes a lot of the themes in books, and they have a huge catalog

You smile and respond back, feeling appreciative that he thought of you.

yunho: srry for the triple text, hope i didnt bother

you: you didn't. thank you, yunho :) i'll bookmark this that way i won't have to bother you so much lol

yunho: you're not a bother haha but np. have a good night!

you: you too!

Then, another comes in. And of course it's Seonghwa. But, the message isn't your typical message, no. It's a message that easily rubs you the wrong way because why? Why does Seonghwa like to pull this shit?

seonghwa: since when did you talk to jeong yunho? lol

you: why does it matter?

seonghwa: it's a simple question?

you: you're ridiculous, you know? we're in the lit same class. again, not that it matters .. ?

seonghwa: how am i ridiculous? lol

you: whatever seonghwa

seonghwa: why are you upset, baby? i'm just asking. i don't see what yunho's point is

you: he has no point, he's just helping me out.

seonghwa: okay, sure lol do you wanna come over? could use your company ): 

you: not tonight

you: maybe you can call hyeri, or whatever her name is. i'm spending time with my roommates

seonghwa: baby, seriously? i was talking to a classmate. can we not fight over dumb shit again?

you: goodnight seonghwa

You sigh out of irritation, tossing your phone aside. It's a bit close to 10pm, but you feel like getting some fresh air and taking a quick walk around the complex would do you some good. 

"Chaery, can we take a walk?" She looks at you and nods.

"Sure."

"What about me?" Soobin asks with a mouth full.

"You're eating."

"I can take it with me."

"It's girl talk." He cringes a bit and shakes his head.

"Nevermind. Be safe, come back soon." You chuckle just as Chaery walks out of your shared room in a hoodie. She has one of your jackets in your hand, handing it over as she gets closer.

"It's a bit cold tonight. Jacket?" 

"Thanks." You smile at her as you throw it on and zip it up, sliding into your slippers before walking out. Chaery is right; the air is colder, crisp. It has a little bite, especially against your skin. Chaery wraps her arm around yours, pulling you close for extra body heat.

"What happened, babe?"

"Huh?"

"You told Soobin it was girl talk." You laugh a bit and nod.

"Oh yeah, right. It is." You sigh as you hold her close. "Nothing, it's just Seonghwa. He texted me just to ask when I started talking to Yunho and what his point was. Got on my nerve."

"Ew, what's his problem? Y/N, seriously. You can do so much better than him. I know it's not easy, and I know he has his moments with you. But baby, you deserve someone who is always sure about you and who will be happy to flaunt you off."

"I know." You sigh. "It's like every time I think about leaving, he does something to keep me close."

"But, it shouldn't be this way, you know? You shouldn't have to wait for these moments. It should happen every day if he really cared about you."

"Yeah." Is all you can say because what can you say? It's hard to break it off with Seonghwa because this is your routine, something you've gotten used to— his presence is something you've gotten accustomed to. Even if it he isn't necessarily the best, he keeps you company. The kind of company that you like.

"How was meeting up with Yunho? Did he help you with your review?"

"A lot. He is super helpful, and he offered to keep helping me."

"Aw." Chaery giggles. "That is so sweet of him."

"He's actually really kind, and patient. I offered to take him out for lunch or something one day."

"Cute. Yeah, you should! Get to know him. Maybe he just needs a little pushing out of his shell, you know? You could probably help him in return." You shrug.

"Maybe? He's still—" Suddenly, Chaery's eyes shoot up to the figure ahead. She does a little gasp before making a cute noise and dragging you closer.

"Yunho!" She says, waving at him. He looks a little startled, but he stops in his tracks and waits with his hands in his pockets— a shy, small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. "Wait, oh my god! I didn't realize you lived here, too! I mean, so does the majority of campus, but still!" You sure as hell didn't know either, and you feel a bit bad that you just probably never noticed. 

"Uh, yeah. I just live over there." He points at his building.

"Who do you live with?"

"Kang Yeosang." Chaery nods.

"Ah, cute. What a pair." You give her a look before shifting your attention back to Yunho. He quietly waits for the next part of the conversation, his eyes softly gazing over you. 

You're cute.

"What are you doing out here this late?"

"Could ask the same for you two." He chuckles and nervously scratches at the nape of his neck. "I, uh, can't sleep sometimes. The walk kinda helps."

"Ah, I see. Makes sense."

"So.." He awkwardly says, shifting weight from one foot to another. "Also couldn't sleep?" You shrug.

"We just needed to get out and get some air." Chaery cuts in for a follow-up to avoid any Seonghwa talk. Though, she knows Yunho wouldn't do that to you. 

"It's getting late though, and pretty cold."

"We're just gonna walk to the end then walk back."

"Hm, okay." 

"It was nice running into you." Chaery smiles. "I hope you can get some rest tonight!"

"Hopefully. Have a good night." He looks at her, then you; he gives you a very tiny, very subtle nod of acknowledgement. With that, the two of you walk past to continue your walk, Chaery praising how gentle and good-looking Yunho is until the end of the walk. Yunho knows the community is safe, but he cuts his walk short just to head up to his building and get a better view of yours. He hangs over the railing near the stairs, catching sight of you and Chaery. He watches as you circle back around to your building, slowly heading up the stairs. He can hear your laughs from where he stands, and he's glad you seem to be okay tonight.

It's good that you have great friends by your side.

When your figures disappear into the hallway, Yunho feels content, relieved— knowing you've both made it safely home. He turns on his heel to make it to his own apartment, greeted by a dark living room with echoes of Yeosang yelling at his PC.

At least you're okay. 

At least you're not outside, waiting in the cold.

At least you're with good company.

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