#i'm gonna wait a month to see how i adjust

[wehelddarkness]

x

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i would like to stop experiencing the full spectrum of human emotions every day please. putting this out into the universe

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ CALL ME BACK ! - suna rintarou / 10.01 / kinktober

CW: phone sex, suna being a softie, mutual masturbation, fingering, female anatomy, petnames, "shower sex" sort of, and voyeurism.

Word Count: 2.4k

Author's Note: here's day one of kinktober. i hope you guys enjoy reading! ily all smmm. leave a note or reblog to show support!

“i’m about to take a shower, angel,” suna murmured softly as he stood up from the bed. his hands sifted through his suitcase, pulling out fresh clothes to sleep in. it had only been three days since he last saw y/n, but it already felt like an eternity. work had taken him across the city, and he wasn’t allowed to bring anyone along—not even her, the one person he needed most.

he had told her about this trip months ago, yet when the day arrived, the reality hit hard.

y/n’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice wavering as they embraced tightly.

“it’s just one week. it’ll pass in no time, i promise,” suna reassured her, pressing her against his chest. his hands traced soothing patterns along her lower back, slipping beneath the fabric of his oversized t-shirt she wore. despite his calm words, he wasn’t any better off. being away from y/n gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t put into words.

every day without her felt unbearable, like a slow unraveling of his mind. but for her sake, he stayed composed, trying to mask the frustration and longing that built up inside. he couldn’t let her see how much it hurt him too. after all, the last thing he wanted was to make this harder for her than it already was.

“are you going to hang up?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep. it was well past midnight, and amidst his whirlwind of a day, this was the only moment he truly had to talk to her, to catch up. she had been staying awake for this very reason, but when she heard suna’s words, her eyes snapped open. she didn’t want the call to end, not yet. though it had already been an hour, it felt like mere minutes had passed.

“maybe. do you not want me to?” his question was laced with a playful tease, but the faint frown on her lips tugged at his conscience. guilt stirred as he propped his phone on the bathroom counter, turning on the water in the shower. “okay, okay. i won’t,” he smiled.

“can you bring me in the shower with you?” she smiled softly, the sight of him soothing her enough to joke. “fine, but if i get water damage, i’m blaming you,” he replied, reappearing in the frame. she hummed in response, content in the quiet, watching as he tugged off his hoodie, then his shirt, his toned abdomen flexing as he moved.

he turned away to neatly drape the clothing over the bathroom pole that held decorative towels, and her gaze lingered on the way his back muscles shifted with each motion. when he turned back, her eyes traced every detail, caught in a quiet admiration until he reached for the phone, bringing his face into view.

“miss me that much?” he grinned, setting the phone down, though now all she could see was the bathroom ceiling. “rin, set me back up,” she groaned, his laughter the only response. “so you can eye-fuck me?”

“exactly.”

suna hummed, amused, as he propped the phone back up. he removed his sweats, leaving him in only his breifs that were low on his hips. "are you not tired?" he questioned, pulling them off as well. the phone's frame was just above his v line, leaving his lower half a mystery to y/n. "a little bit. gonna wait for you to finish up." he hummed and he picked up his phone, walking over to the shower before searching for somewhere to place the device. he resided on the faucet that was aligned directly infront of his midsection.

he adjusted the shower head, the heated water meeting his skin. a silence fell over them and suna continued on with his routine like usual. "rin?" y/n called.

"hm?"

"so you know how you've been gone for three days now?" she asked, voice a bit quiter. "i'm aware, yeah." he let out a small laugh. "everything alright, sweetheart?" he questioned after she remained quiet. she nodded, eyes widening slightly when suna took a step back that gave her a small glance of the familiar sight. she wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she could've sworn that maybe suna was getting the same thoughts as her at the moment.

"have you thought about me?"

"what kind of question is that? duh." he snorted, leaning down a bit so give y/n a confused expression. "no..i mean," she huffed, slightly moving out of frame.

"have you thought about me?

he was silent after a moment before the phone was picked up. he flipped the camera and angled it to show y/n his current situation. "this answer your question?" he asked. she was right. he was having the same thoughts as her. she tried not to show how flustered she got, making her roll her eyes in false annoyance. "why didn't you say anything before?" she huffed, sitting up properly on their bed.

"you're tired. i don't wanna keep you up longer than i have to." he placed his phone back up, but despite not seeing anything anymore, she couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of just whats below the camera's frame.

"rin," she breathed out, her voice a bit more urgent now, "i'm not that tired."

suna raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he adjusted the water, letting it cascade down his back. he didn't respond immediately, letting the quiet tension build between them. he knew exactly what she meant, but he was going to make her ask for it. he loved teasing her, and despite her annoyance sometimes, he knew that she secretly enjoyed it.

"not tired, huh?" he finally mused, his tone playful but low. the steam from the shower was fogging up the camera slightly, adding a hazy filter to their conversation. "then what do you want, sweetheart?"

y/n glanced around the room, feeling the familiar warmth creep up her neck. she shifted under the covers, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over her. "you know what i want, rin."

his chuckle was soft but dark, the kind that sent a shiver down her spine. "yeah? keep talking, then." his voice was encouraging yet challenging, daring her to push the boundaries of their conversation further.

her breath hitched for a moment as she tried to gather her thoughts. "i... i miss you," she started, her voice softer now, vulnerable, but laced with the desire she'd been suppressing since the moment he left. "i miss how you feel. i miss your hands on me, your mouth..."

suna's eyes lowered slightly, his own breath deepening as her words hit him. "y/n..." he let out a barely audible moan at his growing problem. "you're playing a dangerous game, angel," he sighed, his voice low and rough. her legs pressed tighter against eachother as she sat up properly on the bed while suna turned the water off to hear her better. he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, but it hung dangerously low. "i want to see you." he said, noticing how she kept shuffling.

she was out of frame, but suna caught how she shrugged and shook her head. "no way. that's embarrassing." she muttered. it was already embarrassing enough that she couldn’t help but feel this way in the first place. "I've seen your body countless of times, sweetheart. what makes it so different this time?"

she huffed since once again, his words made sense. y/n placed a pillow at the end on the bed before sitting up with her back against the headboard. he smiled at the sight of his girlfriend as the ache in his erection felt more prominent. "hey, pretty angle. i wish i could touch you right now—taste you. make you feel good."

a small sound left her lips and she pulled her legs up to her chest. she wore one of suna's shirts and her bottom half seemed bare, but suna got a small glance of her panties that were beginning to form a dampened circle. he let out a sigh at the site, brushing a hand over his covered erection.

the room was dim, her only source of light being a bedside lamp that casted a warm hue over the room. "i only going to watch you touch yourself. tell me if you need help." her legs closed tighter to one another and suna shook his head in dissaprovement. "mhn-mhn. i need to see what you're doing, n/n." he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. "spread your legs for me." he finally said.

y/n followed his words but not before removing her panties. the evident shine of her arousal could be seen and suna glanced away from the screen to let out a quiet groan. it's just been three days, and he's been pushing through his thoughts, but the sight of what he could've had seemed to have been driving him insane.

"go ahead, pretty. pretend its me touching you."

with a circular motion against her bud, y/n let out a shaky sigh. suna couldn't help but palm his growing erection underneath his towel. she let out a small whine and suna knew that it wasn't one of pleasure. "what's wrong, n/n?" he grew concerned almost immediately. "it dosen't feel as good as you, rin."

"i know, i know. you've gotta try though." he muttered, glancing down at his lap. "here let's try this instead." he unwrapped the towel from his waist and used it to prop his phone up next to him. y/n got a side view of his body and he gripped his length in a fist. despite his shower not even ten minutes ago, beads of his arousal settled at the tip of his erection, some slowly dripping down to trail down the back of his fist.

he glanced at the screen, pumping his length once as he let out a small moan. "keep touching yourself, pretty. it'll start to feel good soon, i promise." he kept his eyes on the screen, watching how y/n's fingers massaged her bud, a shaky moan falling past her lips. the way suna used slow motions basically left her in a trance. every time he would drag his fist up, all of his arousal would pool on top of his fist and then drip down his length when he'd drag it back down.

"god, you make it ten times harder to have any kind of self control when you sound like that." he groaned, tilting his head back slightly as his gaze lazily cut to the side to admire y/n's motions. he'd swell in his hand with every movement he made and y/n noticed that. "s-slide your finger in, sweetheart." he let out a strained moan.

she was hesitant, but gathered her own arousal and did so. she let out a moan that heightened in volume when she gradually inserted her middle finger. "one more, pretty." he huffed, quickening his movements. "i can't, rin."

"yes you can. we both know you can." he said, trying to force down a moan. "if you can take me, two fingers is nothing. close your eyes and just listen to my voice instead, okay?"

"mhm." she hummed, resting her head against the head board. she began to insert the second finger and suna felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. "mhm, just like i do. there you go." he huffed, taking the corner of his botom lip between his teeth. a grin came onto his mouth when he notice how y/n began to move her fingers in and out without him telling her. her moans also started to settle and become smoother, showing that this was definitely more enjoyable for her.

while suna was desperate for his own release, he also knew how much harder its been on y/n since she's been busy with her classes and staying up late to talk to him. she never really had time for herself and when she did, nothing compared to her moments with him. he would call her spoiled, but to be fair, he probably had everything to do with that.

"go a little faster, sweetheart. i want you to feel good so you can get some rest." his movements quicked, going the same pace as her. she used her free hand to grip the fabric of the comforter. another moan followed and she continued on this as suna would mumble soft praises. his voice alone helped her tune out the reality of their situation. her eyes squeezed shut even tighter and suna caught on to those familiar sounding moans.

"you're close, huh?" his voice was rough from his strained moans and y/n nodded to his words. the lewd sounds traveled through the speaker of y/n's phone and suna focused on them as he began to bring himself to his own climax of pleasure. "can't believe you're so messy, sweetheart."

"shut up.." she whined, her voice just barely over a whisper. he propped himself up on one elbow and relased his length from his fist. he brought his phone closer to himself as he held it in his hand, wanting to get a better view at y/n's actions. "keep going, n/n." he said, his chest rising and falling in a quickened pace as he watched her movements get sloppier. her palm grazed her bud with every motion and with a few lewd encouragements from her boyfriend, y/n drew out a long whine as her body shivered and her legs wrapped around her wrist.

suna watched as her arousal dripped down her sex and began to pool on the fabric of the bed. he would've warned her to put down a towel if he knew it would've gotten to this point, but it wasn’t something to fret over. "feel better, n/n?" he questioned, gripping his length in his hand once again. still in a daze she nodded, her hips jolting as she circled her bud with her own arousal to ride out her high. suna watched with a heavy gaze, coming to his own high in just seconds at the sight of y/n.

spurts of his arousal fell onto his lower abdomen and he let out a long and breathy moan that was laced into a swear. y/n couldn’t pull her eyes from him and she watched as his low-lidded gaze closed completely. she smiled at him before she stood up, breaths still heavy. she went to the bathroom to tidy up, and suna sighed.

"what, rin?" y/n asked.

"can't believe all of that's going to waste."

♤ likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: When Dave is hired by your dad to clean your pool during the summer, something you'd known for a long time becomes even more obvious

Genre: Fluff with a smidge of suggestive content 😏

Warnings: flirty!reader, submissive undertones!dave, shy!dave, dave and reader are eighteen, swearing, making out.

~ here you go my lovely @moonlightspencie 🫶💕~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

You and Dave Lizewski aren't by any means close during the school year. You both live in completely different circles. You have your more popular friends and Dave has his small group of nerds. In all honesty, the only time you interact with him is when you occasionally take out the trash at the same time and see him from across the road.

He'll wave nervously and you'll smile to yourself. 

He really is cute. 

However, you weren't expecting to hear his voice as you're sunbathing by your pool on a sunny July afternoon.

You sit up instantly and push your sunglasses up on your head as you hear the small, "Yes, sir," Dave mutters as he holds the pool stick in one hand and listens to your dad explain how to clean the pool. 

"Ah, Y/n, this is David—Mr. Lizewski's son—he lives next door," your dad calls when he sees you, "He's cleaning our pool for a quick buck." 

He then turns to Dave and gestures to you, "This is my daughter, Y/n."

You smile and tilt your head as some water from your damp hair hits your shoulders. "I know, Dad. He knows. We're both seniors now," you say and sip from your lemonade, eyeing Dave.

"Hi, Dave," you say with a smile and the poor boy's cheeks turn crimson. 

Thank God you wore your sexy bikini. 

Your dad looks between you both, his hands on his hips, but he doesn't comment. "Alright, well, good meeting you Dave. I'll be inside if you have any questions," he says and once he's gone, Dave looks like a deer in headlights.

He's still standing by the pool, wearing embarrassingly colorful shorts and a white T-shirt. His brown curly hair is only a little longer than you remembered from a few months ago and he looks slightly fitter.

"You gonna stare at me the entire time or work, Lizewski?" you laugh and turn onto your stomach, pushing down your sunglasses again and resisting your head on your arms. You smile to yourself when you hear Dave's mumblings and shufflings as he works. 

Around fifteen minutes later, you shift onto your back again and see that Dave looks already sweaty from the excessive heat. Shit, he looks good.

"How long until I can take a dip," you cross your legs and ask, smiling at him as he jumps in surprise at the sound of your voice.

"O-oh, um," he avoids your gaze as he looks down at the pool, "I haven't added the chlorine and s-stuff y-yet, but after that probably I think- like thirty minutes?" 

You sit up and frown. "I'll just take a dip now, then, I don't wanna wait that long," you say and stand, running a hand in your hair as you walk to the stairs.

Dave watches you and he can't help but admit he's staring at your curves in your bikini. He resists the urge to adjust his shorts. 

"Y-yeah, s-sure," he stutters, unsure what to do now. 

You find him adorable so you smile at him as you walk into the pool. "Come, join me," you say, "It's boiling outside. My dad won't mind, promise," you say and guide some water onto your arms. 

Dave looks nervous now, his blue eyes round and unsure. "I- I don't want to bother you."

You smile at him and duck under the water, coming up and pushing hair from your forehead. "Nonsense, Lizewski. I'm inviting you in. Now, c'mon," you chuckle and swim around the pool.

Dave hesitates but he finally shrugs off his shirt and awkwardly covers himself until the pool water reaches his waist. He can feel you staring at his arms and chest and he blushes harder.

You swim to him. "Why're you so shy?" you ask curiously. "Usually guys that look like you are arrogant assholes."

"Guys that look like me?" Dave questions, walking further into the pool to meet you in the middle. He lifts his arms as he winces from the coolness of the water. 

You laugh and swim even closer until you're standing face-to-face in the water. Dave still looks blushed and you smirk. "Yeah. Guys that are handsome and cute and—" your gaze flickers to his abs, "hot—like you."

Dave looks like he could explode any second by how flushed he is and he rubs his nape. "Y-you think I'm all those things?"

You laugh, "Don't you own a mirror, Lizewski?"

He clearly doesn't know how to answer that so he goes with a compliment instead. "You're hot too, and cute–and b-beautiful," he mumbles shyly, "and your personality is totally banger–" he tries and you can tell he means it he's just nervous. 

You walk closer to him and hover your hand over his cheek before you push some of his curls behind his ear with your wet hand. "Dave, have you ever kissed a girl?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

His breath hitches. "N-no–" 

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" You look into his blue eyes and then at his pink lips. 

Dave stutters, "B-but your parents—"

"Aren't paying attention to us. Promise," you smile and cup his cheek fully in your hand. You pull him in, pressing your lips to his gently. He's stiff in the beginning, his hands awkwardly finding your shoulders.

"Relax," you tease and bump your nose against his. 

Dave relaxes and he lets out a small gasp as you push his back to the cool tile of the pool, your mouth exploring his hungrily. He's not a bad kisser for someone who'd never done it and when you wrap one leg around his hip, his hand dips under the water to hold your thigh. You groan into his lips and continue to kiss him as the water splashes around you.

The sun is warm on your skin and Dave can taste the lemonade from your lips. It's intoxicating and he wants more. He pulls away, breathless as he looks down at your body glistening from water and his dick fully hardens at how sexy you look in your bikini. His eyes are glued to your tits. 

"Here," you laugh, feeling him becoming all hot and bothered so you guide one of his hands to your tit and continue to kiss him as he feels you up. You run one of your hands up and down his abs under the water. "Good boy," you praise between kisses and you feel like you're also on fire. 

No experienced boy has ever made you feel this good. How is that even possible?

You make out for another few minutes and then as you pull away, Dave's lips are red and moist. His eyes are blown wide and he's panting. He looks breathtakingly beautiful. 

You smirk and kiss his cheek, pushing away from him. "Times up," you tease and walk out of the pool, feeling his eyes linger on your figure as you wrap a towel around yourself. You turn to him, your tone light, "You should get back to work—Dad doesn't like slackers," you taunt him and grab your magazine. 

You hear Dave scrambling to exit the pool and you toss him an extra towel. 

"Might have to fix that big problem of yours first," you giggle, smirking.

Dave immediately presses the bunched-up towel against his boner as he makes an embarrassed squeal. Your heart leaps at the sound and you look over your shoulder, waving at him as you walk away. 

"I'll see you around, baby," you say with a wink and he is left a blushing mess behind you. 

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Model!Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. (very badly written) SMUT. MDNI, thank you. very poor description of model shows, talks of lingerie, cursing, rough sex (?), light choking and hair pulling, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, teasing derek at the end. Kinda proofread ? Not rlly.

A/N: Hiyo, so i posted this like a long time ago (a month ago) on AO3 but I just decided to post this on here now because why nott ?? Lemme know what you think, and if I missed any warning please lemmeee knowww, also should I make this a series ???!!!! <333

You stood behind the curtains backstage, anxiously peeking through, towards the crowd. You look down at your phone, "on my way, I'll be there in 30 minutes"  It's been 40 minutes, where is he ? you knew dating an FBI agent that his schedule was gonna be busy but you've been telling him about the show for weeks, he promised he would make it. You were out in 5 minutes and still didn't spot him. You were tempted to call him, ask him where he was, but decided against it. Your manager was rushing you to get in position to walk out but you were stalling as much as you could in hopes that Reid would magically show up. 4 minutes now.

YOU: Where are you ? I'm out in 4 minutes.

SPENCE: Im here, love. Backrow.

You felt your heart coo at the petame. You heard your manager yell for you to get in position for one last time, you rushed into position, handing our phone over to your manager. You specifically asked Reid to come because it was a lingerie fashion show. Think Victoria Secret, You knew Spencer would go crazy upon seeing you in lace and ribbons, you were giddy with excitement as you think about walking past him, you knew what he was risking coming to your shows so you wanted to make it all worth it. You heard the show director counting down as you take your robe off and adjust your hair and accessories. You put on your best poker face and start walk.

Walk, just walk. Look straight ahead, don't turn your head. Do not go looking for him. You repeated in your mind, each step you took making a direct impact with the runway. Your arms swaying back and forth, hips swaying. You were extra nervous, this was the first time Spencer finally agreed to come to one of your shows and your heart could've jumped out of your chest knowing this. You kept everything on beat, from your steps to your hip sways. Once you reached the end of the runway, you put your hand on your hip as you shift your weight onto one foot, flashing a smile occupied with a quick wink before turning around walking back. 

You finally notice Reid in the back row as he said, making direct eye contact with him for only a split second before looking forward again.

From Reids point of view, once you made eye contact with him, he knew he was done for. He attempted to keep his composure, legs crossed, his hand on his chin, but inside a small fire was lit inside him that only grew brighter and bigger with each step you took. As the show reached the end, and you did the final end walk with the rest of the models, Reid was completely captivated by your walk, the way your hair bounced with each walk, the way your hips swayed, how you walked in a perfect straight line. Spencer knew he had to get his hands on you, and it was a craving he had to satisfy as quick as possible. Backstage, you decided to just put your long coat over your robe as you gathered your belongings together and talk with your manager. 

"Oh by the way, heres your phone" He says as he pulls your phone out of his pocket. "You got some very interesting texts, lets just say"

You roll your eyes at his teasing remarks. You open your phone and see two messages from Spencer.

SPENCE: You knew what you were doing by inviting me to this show.

SPENCE: I'm waiting outside for you in the car.

You smile, biting your lip as you read the texts. You gather your stuff and say bye to your manager before heading out. You spot Reid's car and rush over to it, your slippers hitting the concrete. You enter the car, Reid giving a small smile as you enter. You greet him but receive no response. You furrow your eyebrows, watching his face, hes deep in thought and keeping his focus on the road. You reach over to softly touch his arm.

"Spence, what's wrong ?" Your voice is laced with worry. 

"Just wait til we get home" he growls in a low tone, his jaw clenching. Keeping his focus on the road. You feel your heart skip a beat at the comment and a soft pulse in-between your legs. You let out a soft and quiet moan, getting comfortable in your seat. Counting down the minutes before you reach home.

As soon as you enter through the front door of his apartment, You're started by the sound of Reid slamming the door, turning around, Reid attacks your lips. Practically ripping your coat off and tossing it, he pushes his lips into yours so forcefully you arch your back and lean back. Arms wrapped around his neck, you deepen the kiss, sticking your tongue in his mouth and tangling your hand into his curly hair. He pushes on the couch, unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at you with lust and desire in his eyes. "I can't wait to be in the bedroom, im taking you right here, right now" he growls "Take that robe off." He commands in a deep, sinful voice.

You undo the robe straps and pull the silk material down your shoulder. He lets out a low groan, quickly wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you into the couch cushions. "You dirty whore" He whispers into your ear as he grabs the robe, yanking it onto the floor. "You kept that on on purpose, huh ?" he snarls. He lightly pushes your head into the cushion before standing up straight. "Take off my belt" You follow his command, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. But right as your about to unzip. he grabs a fistful of your hair and guides your eyes up towards his, "Use your teeth"

He lets go and you lower your head towards the zipper. Gripping the small slider, tasting the sour metal against your tongue, you start to unzip. Right as you let go, your hands trail up to the waistband of his jeans. Leaving him in only his boxers. you admire the tent of black fabric before starting to palm and lick his shaft through the fabric. Hearing his low groan and feeling his hand softly massage your scalp only motivates you even more. Spencer tries to hold himself back, but ultimately gives into temptation and pulls you away by your hair. "Fuck your teasing" He says in a low, impatient tone. He pulls his dick and shoves it into your mouth, beginning to fuck your face, relishing in the sounds of your gags and soft moans.

"That's it, take it like the good little girl you are" he praises, shoving his dick deep into your throat before allowing you to pull away. "lay on your back." He demands as you catch your breath. You immediately lay down on the couch as Spencer positions himself between your legs. He leans down and begins to leave love marks all over your jaw and neck "Beg for me" he growls lowly in your ear. You start whimpering and whining "Please Spence, fuck me... Use my body and show no mercy.." He grips your neck and snarls. "Use the right fucking name" You gasp quietly and whimper "Please.. Doctor.." He chuckles sinfully, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra with one hand.

He pushes himself up and takes a few moments to admire you "so gorgeous.." He whispers to himself before slipping his fingers under the band of your panties. With one swift motion, he rips them off. The tear echoing the apartment so does the small welp you let out. He wastes no time lining himself up with your opening. He waits there for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you squirming under him. Without warning, he rams into you with full force knocking a lustful scream out of you. 

"Take It, love. You can take it." He whispers as he starts at a quick pace, slamming into you over and over again. You both are a moaning mess. You scratch down his arms and arch your back, each one of your moans getting louder and louder. He groans at the feeling of your nails peeling the first layer of his skin. He wraps his arms around you, his pace quickening by the second. "Doctor.. im.. gonna.." You can barely even finish your sentence as your breath is knocked out of you with every pound into your core. "Good girl, cum for me princess. That's it, bunny" he whispers in your ear, through moaning. You once again use your nails to scratch down from the back of neck all the way to his back as you let out a loud moan. You feel your whole body shake and your hole tighten around him. 

Spencer moans at the sudden squeeze, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he reaches his climax. He moans out your name as he finished inside you, letting his cum pour inside of you with one final thrust. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being filled. Spencer pulls away from you, cupping your cheek "Are you okay, princess ? Did I hurt you ?" he asks through labored breathing. You shake your head, your mind still coming down from your high. Spencer lans up and kisses your forehead "You were such a good girl, baby. I love you so much." You feel your body slowly relaxing "I love you too, Spence" You both smile sweetly at each other and share a sweet, passionate kiss. 

 

The next morning at work, Spencer was grabbing coffee while reading his book. He was standing near the counter, just sipping on his coffee when Derek came up to him. Derek said a quick greeting to him while pouring a cup for himself. He was about to walk off when he noticed the red marks on the back of Reids neck, reaching over and pulling his collar down slightly. "Hey, what happened Reid ?" Morgan asks slightly concerned. Reid turns around covering it with his hand. "What ?" Reids cheeks flush red as he remembers where he got it from. Derek notices it, a wave of realization hitting it as he smirks and puts his hand on his shoulder. "My man" he says teasingly before walking away.

[clauscielo]

⊰⊹ pure, uncorrupted

pairing: arthur morgan & virgin!reader.

summary: you are too pure, too naive. and he hates to see other men fantasizing about tainting you. so, before someone else does - he decides to do it himself.

warnings: mentions of rape/sexual abuse, past physical/psychological abuse, corruption kink, arthur takes reader's virginity, arthur is protective, but lonely and hates himself. legal age gap, oral sex (fem receiving), p-in-v sex, loving sex, creampie - english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes!

he would never forget that day. trelawny had told them a few weeks earlier that, southwest of valentine, just a mile from the village, there was a farm: two houses and a barn. trelawny claimed there was a large amount of money hidden there, illegitimately earned by the family.   

that's why they went. micah, bill and arthur set out into the night, riding toward that farm. thieves robbing thieves.   

the family consisted of a father and two sons. they had no choice but to wipe them all out. arthur had never liked to take the lives of innocent people, but these people... they didn't feel right.   

the house was very untidy inside, grimy, and there was a padlocked door on the upper floor. while micah and bill ransacked the downstairs, he took a look at the bedrooms, and of course, kicked in the locked room door.   

you were in there. cowering on the bed, pressed against the wall, shivering and sobbing. you had heard gunshots and banging, you had tried your best not to make any noise, but they had found you. arthur was perplexed. he studied you for a few seconds, processing the situation: this family had you locked in this room. you were wearing torn and dirty rags, and your room was even more neglected. there were flies, food from days ago, and only one bed in the room.   

“it's okay, it's okay. i ain't gonna hurt you,” he finally said, slowly approaching you.   

micah arrived shortly after, and a crooked smile came across his face.   

“well look at this, morgan! i say we have some fun. bill, get up here!” his cruel words irritated arthur deeply.   

“get out of here, you foul thing! wait downstairs!” he raised his voice, and micah only let out a challenging laugh. still, he obeyed, after arthur shot him a menacing glare. 

you, still shaking and weeping on the bed, watched him. the thought that the man in front of you had protected you from the others, soothed you a little.   

arthur couldn't kill you. how could he kill you? it wasn't an option.   

“what are you doing here, girl?” he moved a little closer and noticed that one of your legs was covered in bruises.   

“i-i was... grounded,” you mumbled, between sobs. arthur frowned and clicked his tongue.   

“were those your father and brothers?” he asked, his hand hesitantly stroking your forearm, seeking to calm you.   

you nodded, hot, copious tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. he sighed.  

“they're dead. i'm sorry,” he began, and his heart shrank at your obvious expression of relief. “you can come with us, we won't hurt you. we'll take you to valentine,” he added.  

you nodded, raising your arms toward him. arthur accepted the gesture, and with his strong hands on your armpits, he lifted you and carried you in his arms, heading for his horse.   

you refused to stay in valentine that night. you begged again and again to be taken with them. and this snarling, distrustful outlaw, softened at the image of you, a forlorn young woman alone in this world that had so embittered him over the years.   

“we're taking her,” arthur said to the other men.   

“morgan! we can't afford another mouth to feed!” bill protested.   

“we're taking her,” he insisted, his tone firm and intimidating, and the others snorted.   

 it had been months since that night. you were accepted into the gang of outlaws arthur lived with, but you had a hard time adjusting. you developed an unhealthy attachment to the man who had rescued you, who you considered your hero. whenever arthur was in camp, you followed him, trying to talk to him. being close made you feel better. but he was very cold most of the time.   

“girl, really, you need to leave me alone. what d'ya want now?” he said, his tone showing irritation, when you approached to talk to him for the tenth time today.   

 your smile vanished, your expression transforming into one of pain and embarrassment. you blushed and lowered your gaze, and before you could say anything, he snorted heavily.   

 “i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i just like to be alone, you know that,” he replied, exasperated. 

 you fiddled anxiously with the edge of your blouse, pursing your lips sheepishly.  

“i just wanted to be with you for a little while,” your voice came out shaky and low. arthur's heart almost melted.   

“come,” he said, curtly, sitting down on his bed.   

“no, n-no need. i'm sorry to disturb you.”   

“come,” he repeated, louder now, as a demand.   

 you shrank back but obeyed and sat down next to him. he looked at you, his blue eyes scrutinizing your sad, anxious expression, his frown easing.   

“i can't be with you all the time,” he explained. your lip quivered, and you nodded.   

“i know. i know. i'm sorry.”  

“it's not because i don’t want to. it's because this... this thing you got with me, it can't go on,” he said, his hand stroking your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear, his actions contradicting his words. “you're gonna have to leave here someday. and if we don't stop this in time...” his words trailed off.   

“i don't want to leave.”   

“you're absolutely gonna leave. don't be silly. you don't belong in this kind of life. when you get your strength back, i want you out of here.”

 you looked at him, wide-eyed, silent.   

“don't look at me like that,” he spat, annoyed. but a second later, he sighed. “we're not doing you any good. not me, not anyone here. you understand that, don't you?”   

“i don't have anyone else. i'll be alone,” you said, your heart racing with fear.   

 arthur stroked your cheek, thoughtfully. he had grown so fond of you these past few months, that he could hardly imagine his life without you anymore. but the rational part of him knew you had no future here, not with someone like him.   

 that's why he pushed you away. that's why he tried to ignore you. he couldn't stand seeing the way you looked at him, like he was a hero, a savior. because arthur was nothing like that. arthur was a criminal, a murderer, a ruthless, bitter, outlaw with no future, someone who only brought tragedy into people's lives.   

“i don't like it when you're this mean to me,” you muttered, pouting, still hurt by how he had greeted you when you came.   

“i know. forgive me,” he whispered, looking at your hand. he wanted to take it, to feel it, but didn't dare to.   

 weeks passed. arthur hated the way the men looked at you. micah, especially. that sick, deranged bastard. he mocked your innocence, your naivety.   

“well, i've been dying to deflower that little lassie, the new one. ever since we saw her at the farm i been saying we have fun with her, but morgan won't let us,” protested micah, sipping from his bottle of whiskey, one night by the fire.   

“do you think she's a virgin?” javier replied with curiosity.  

“please!” interjected bill, laughing. “that girl doesn't even know what screwing is.”   

 “of course she doesn't. i told her to blow me the other day and she just looked at me with those dopey eyes of hers,” micah cackled.   

 arthur overheard the conversation and felt his insides boil. listening to those nasty old men, talking so crudely about a young, proper lady like you, made him sick.   

 “what the fuck are you talking about?” arthur snarled. he snatched the whiskey bottle from micah's hand and faced him, with an annihilating glare. “if you ever talk about her like that again, you better make sure i don't hear. or i'll cut that throat of yours so you never say a fucking word again,” he said, his voice low and intense, getting micah to turn away, letting out a nervous laugh.   

 he retreated to his tent, furious, and was startled to find you there. he put his hand to his chest and shook his head. “what are you doing here, you want to scare me to death?” he wheezed, anger still boiling inside him.   

 you looked at him with a smile and showed him a flower crown in your hands. “look what i did,” you declared, proudly, your eyes on his, perhaps seeking approval in his expression. he eased back and couldn't hide a soft smile, gentle and loving. he took the floral diadem and placed it on your head.   

 “beautiful,” he whispered. you blushed heavily and pressed your lips together, excited.  

“i was reading and in the book, it explained how to make it and what flowers were ideal for it. i think it turned out really pretty,” you explained.   

 “yes. it looks very pretty. but you should be sleeping,” he scolded you.

 “i'm sorry. i was excited and wanted to wait for you to come back,” you defended yourself. he smiled.   

 he couldn't help but bring his hands to your face. you were so precious, so candid and credulous. and those abhorrent men were talking about deflowering you just a few minutes ago... it made him feel like throwing up.   

the affectionate gesture surprised you. your cheeks grew warmer. “what's wrong?” you asked, uneasy, and he dropped his hands to either side of his body.   

 “nothing. nothing,” he huffed, rubbing his face with his hand, frustrated, confused.   

 he knew he didn't do you any good. but how could he let you go? the world was full of disgusting men like micah. men who wouldn't hesitate to hurt this girl he had come to love.   

 he pushed past you and sat down on his bed.   

 “i want you to keep away from micah no matter what, do you understand? whatever he says to you. you stay away. and if he bothers you, you come and tell me immediately,” he said, without looking at you, his tone stern.   

 you didn't answer, you just nodded. you would do anything this man asked of you.   

 “are you sad?” you asked, moving closer to him. arthur was slow to answer, still not looking you in the eye.   

 “yeah. i am,” he admitted, sighing. you sat down next to him, and hugged him, trying to comfort him and also, seeking solace.   

arthur wanted to push you away, to scold you for invading his space, to urge you to leave him alone. but he couldn't do that anymore. he didn't want you to leave, and each and every time he had asked you to stay away, he had betrayed himself. he let himself enjoy your touch, your scent, and your warmth for the first time. he closed his eyes and leaned in slightly, sliding his arms around you.   

 “forgive me for being a sorry son of a bitch to you,” he whispered, very remorseful.   

“it's okay. forgive me for always being annoying.”   

 “you're not annoying. don't ever say that again,” he replied, his chest vibrating against yours every time his husky voice made itself heard. “i've been a real jerk.”   

 you fell silent. you didn't understand what this was about. and arthur was grateful for your ignorance. he wouldn't know how to comfort you, how to make you forget those nauseating words if you had heard how you were spoken of before.   

 “i need to lie down, sweetheart. i'm very tired,” he mumbled, pulling away a little. the affectionate nickname made your heart skip a beat. you nodded, watching him lie down, his expression one of displeasure.   

 “can i stay with you?” you whispered, fearful that he would say no. but he nodded without hesitation, and you settled in next to him. his heart was about to burst out of his chest. he let you snuggle up to him, and his arm slipped loosely around your waist.   

 “gonna stop by saint denis tomorrow to run some errands. wanna come with me?” he asked, and you looked up at him, your eyes widening with excitement.   

 “really?” arthur let out a chuckle and confirmed. “yes, please. i'd like that very much.”   

your excitement stirred something inside him. he felt a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. such a sweet being like you...and your father and brothers had you locked in a filthy room, only to be discovered by men who just wanted to fuck you and leave you stranded. what would have become of you if he hadn't gone and robbed that farm with the others that night?   

“okay, sweetheart.” he used the nickname again, which made you grin like a fool. “i'm gonna sleep now, okay?” he said, and stretched his arm over you, reaching over to the bedside table to put a glass over the candle to put it out.   

 you pouted, and rested your head on his chest. “okay,” you whispered back, closing your eyes.   

 arthur was trying to hide it, but he was so nervous. it had been ages since he'd been this close to a woman, let alone a woman such as yourself. his pants had started to tighten since you first curled up with him, though he tried to act normal, his heart pounding in his chest.   

innocently, you ran a leg over his thigh, sighing. his arm tightened around your waist. he was restless, tense, and kept shifting his posture every few minutes.   

 inevitably, his eyes opened in the darkness. he couldn't sleep.   

“i like being like this with you,” you whispered when you noticed he was still awake. “it gives me... this nice, funny feeling in my tummy,” you added, and arthur let out a shaky sigh.   

“oh, yeah...?” he replied, absently, your words replaying in his mind.   

 “yes... it always happens to me when i'm around you,” you confessed, your candid statement making his cock grow harder in his pants.   

“don't get used to it,” he growled. you looked up, saddened.   

 “don't you like being like this, together?” you asked, your voice low and apologetic. arthur exhaled hoarsely.   

 “too much, darlin'. too much,” he admitted, without looking at you. he was getting carried away.   

 you slid slowly onto his lap, and his breath hitched.   

 “what in the world are you doing?” he whispered. he panicked, feeling your pelvis right on top of his erection, which he had been trying to hide all this time.   

 “i want to be real close to you,” you whispered. “do you mind?”   

 he looked at you with pleading eyes and shook his head, he was speechless. he tried to push you away, but his hands wouldn't move.

 “the book talked about this too... about men, women...” you began, your voice shy as you explained.   

 “no. we're not doing this, girl,” he protested. but he didn't really mean it. the least he wanted right now was for you to get off of him.   

 “please...” you begged. “i just want to know how it feels.”   

 his face was burning, his cock throbbing desperately in his pants, needing urgent relief. so you were indeed a virgin.   

 this wasn't right. he wouldn't take advantage of you.   

 “why?” you wanted to know.   

 “you're a virgin,” he declared, in a low gasp. you didn't respond, just shrank back a tiny bit, with shame. “my god, you're a virgin... no, i... i can't. i can't.” he covered his face.   

 arthur had never been with a virgin before. let alone a virgin with a life like yours. were you even aware of the importance of what you were asking? 

 “oh, don't do this to me, please,” he whimpered, his hands sliding over your thighs, down to your buttocks. you blushed and let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling your hips against his, trying to ease the burning between your legs. arthur let out a low moan, his eyes half closed, his cheeks red.   

 “baby... we can't... not with me,” he whispered, desperate.  

“i want it to be with you,” you murmured. and he had no more strength to resist.   

“do... do you want me to put it inside you?” he asked, pressing his pelvis against yours, making you feel his whole erection, warm and big against you.   

 “yes, please...” you begged.   

 “oh, sweetheart...” he swallowed, flustered. it had been so long since he'd last had sex, and now he had a beautiful, untouched woman in his lap, begging to be fucked. it felt like a goddamn dream. and he felt disgusting about it, but he was so turned on by the idea of taking your virginity. he felt like a hypocrite.   

 his hand slid down your ass cheek and under your nightgown. his fingers reached for your panties, his arm around your leg to touch you.   

 “you're so wet,” he murmured. he closed his eyes for a moment, the heat feeling a little overwhelming. “take off your nightgown, baby.”   

 obedient, you removed the garment slowly, remaining in his lap, your body covered only by your bra and panties. arthur exhaled, salivating, his gaze gliding over every inch of your exposed skin.   

 “you are exquisite,” he said to himself, almost as a reproach. he shouldn't have to be doing this. but he couldn't stop. he just couldn't. he began to unbutton his shirt. “can i see your tits?” he asked, rhetorically, since he knew that without complaint you would take off your bra. and so you did.   

 his lips and tongue immediately landed on the soft skin of your breasts, after having devoured you with his gaze for a few seconds. his lips left kisses, his tongue caressing and frolicking around your nipples. you moaned and stirred on his lap, immersed in pleasure and desperate for more.   

 he removed his shirt, and eagerly, unbuckled his belt. 

 “gonna get on top, it may hurt a little this way,” he whispered between kisses. you nodded, and let him grab you by the thighs, your arms around his neck as arthur changed position.   

 he laid you down gently, and his hands crawled up your thighs, spreading your legs. his eyes lowered to your crotch, the fabric of your underwear was visibly wet.   

 “darlin'... i'm not gonna last. haven't done this in a long time,” he said, his hands shaking a little, he was so horny he could barely think coherently.   

 “i-it's okay,” you murmured sheepishly.   

 he knelt between your legs, and placed soft, warm kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your center. he kissed your pussy over your underwear, and pressed his face to it, inhaling your scent.  

“delicious,” he purred, closing his eyes, sucking and kissing over the fabric. his hands, big and strong, squeezed your flesh, eager to feel you. his right hand traveled down to your crotch, pushing aside the annoying material of your panties. “what a pretty little pussy,” he growled, and glued his mouth to it, licking between your warm wet lips, sucking on your clit, devouring you like a hungry man.   

you moaned, your legs trembling. his hands pressed against your thighs, spreading them wider, and when his fingers left your panties, they again came between you and his touches.   

 “fuck,” he hissed in frustration, and roughly, he yanked them off you, sinking his face back between your legs, parting you wide and devouring you with both intensity and desperation. 

 “i'm going to put my fingers in, okay?” he warned, looking down at you, his beard wet with your juices, his cheeks red. you nodded, your gaze clouded with pleasure. his ring and middle finger teased your sensitive, dilated entrance. slowly he slid them inside, feeling the rough texture of your insides tightening around his thick digits. he moved them slowly inside you, curving and massaging your insides lovingly, while his tongue and lips fed on your juices and moans, sucking on your sensitive, sweet spot.   

 “you're so tight,” he gasped. he pulled away briefly, to pull down his pants. his cock sprung, flushed and swollen, eager for the delicious relief only you could bring him. “look how you got me, baby...” he whispered, wrapping his member in his left hand, squeezing it slowly. “how you get me, always.”   

 your pussy clenched around nothing, feeling emptier than ever. “please... arthur,” you whimpered. he looked at you, unsure, was he really doing this? you deserved better than this. something so much better than this.   

 but the urges in his body were too strong, they absolutely ruled him. he placed his cock against your center, gripping it firmly, and rubbing its tip between your lips, pressing lightly as it met your entrance, tiny but eager.   

 “darlin’... what the hell are we doing?” he said, sliding in just the tip, which was thick enough to make you whimper. “ow... baby.”   

 you felt so full. you looked down, and you could see his thick member, disappearing inside you. your pussy throbbed and squeezed him, unable to adjust to his size. he was huge.   

 before he got it all in, arthur had to pull it out a little. “you're too tight,” he let out a pitiful whimper. “i'm gonna cum.” he added with embarrassment.   

 he pulled out, taking a deep breath. he leaned down to kiss you. he kissed your lips lovingly. god, he'd been so rude, not kissing you all this time. he relished your lips, and you could feel the wetness of his beard against your chin and cheeks. he penetrated you again, and this time he entered you somewhat more easily.   

 “enjoy, sweetheart... just enjoy,” he whispered, watching your face contort in pleasure. he had to close his eyes, imagine the horses, the flowers, the bees, the smell of the barns, or he would cum right there, inside you. he pushed it all the way in, his tip pressing against your cervix. “does it hurt, honey?” 

 “no, no... i... it feels so good...” you moaned. you felt so full, his cock was so thick you felt like there wasn't an inch of you he wasn't touching right now. every little movement of his hips, pressing against yours as he nestled his face into your neck, made you shudder.   

 “fuck... yes, squeeze me like that,” he begged, closing his eyes tighter, starting to move his hips, his hands squeezing your thighs and pressing them against the bed, spreading you wide to penetrate you deeply. “thank you, thank you...” he gasped hoarsely.   

 your small hands clung to him, your nails sinking into the flesh of his back, his big, strong back, as his whole body enveloped and filled you.   

 one of his hands slipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing your clit, each thrust making his member bury itself deep and hard inside you, your tight body giving him no respite.   

 “please tell me you're close. i can't hold on much longer,” his voice sounded strained, cracked. the bed creaked beneath you, his hips slapping against your ass every time he bottomed out inside you. 

 “yes, yes, please don't stop,” you whimpered. his hot, sweaty skin clung to yours, the heat under the sheets thick. his smell, salty and masculine flooded your nostrils, and his cock filled you, again and again, your snug cunt squeezing, sucking him deeper and deeper inside.   

your orgasm was intense. you trembled beneath him, your cries and mewls getting louder, and you writhed, your pussy milking him dry. arthur frowned in concentration, letting out soft grunts and whimpers as he moved within you. he came too, couldn't help it, his legs quivering as well. his thrusts became ragged and desperate, his eyes rolled back slightly as his cum filled you, hot and thick. "oh, god," he whined quietly. his strong arms hugged you closer, pressing you tighter to him as he left you completely full of him.   

 “d-darling,” he gasped, shuddering on top of you, his strokes slowing, until he stopped. his hands, scratchy from work and guns, slid over your sweaty skin and squeezed your breasts and hips, before holding you tight. “don't leave me, please.”

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

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[monzabee]

bad idea right? – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?

Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic

Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?

So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.

To lily m: i texted lando To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up From lily m: WHAT? NO To lily m: seeing him tonight To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right? From lily m: YES From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?

Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.

He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”

Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”

“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”

You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”  

Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.

“You changed your car,” you point out.

“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.

The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.

“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”

“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”

“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”

Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”

“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”

It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”

His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”

Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”

“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”

He lets out a hum, “Why?”

It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.

He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.

It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.

“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.

And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”

“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”

Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”

“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”

“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”

He raises a brow, “Why not?”

“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”

“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”

He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”

He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.

“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”

“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to

“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”

“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”

The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.

Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”

You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”

He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.

You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.

To kika: this was a bad idea kika Tokika: a very *very* bad idea From kika: please tell me you’re going home To kika: um… To kika: sure From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME From kika: NOW!!

Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.

There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”

Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”

“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.

“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he’s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.

With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.

You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.

The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”

Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.

While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”

Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”

He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”

“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”

Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”

“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”

“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”

Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”

Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”

Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.

“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”

“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.

“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.

A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”

“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.

To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando? From lily m: alex From kika: pierre To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary? From lily m: the doctor? To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter From lily m: god no he was a creep From lily m: what about the surfer? From kika: oh yeah he was cute too To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN From kika: WITH THE ABS From kika: and also porche From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS To lily m + kika: okay thanks To lily m + kika: love you guys

Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.

“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.

Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”

Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”

You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”

He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.

So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.

He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.

“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”

You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.

“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.

You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”

“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”

You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”

Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.

You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.

From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia From danny: wink twice if you’re alive From danny: this is not funny, where are you? From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily

Rolling  your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.

From kika: did you get home safe? From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep To lily m + kika: love you guys

You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”

“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”

And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.

[ivysprophecy]

Not so good surprise.

warnings: talk about nipples, nipple piercings, mentions of sex and boners? i think that’s it. obvious cursing.

word count: 728

an: hey guys!! so this is my first time posting in a long time but both my friend and i @kimoralov3 wanted to write little blurbs about jj reacting to nipple piercings so please go show theirs some love!! warning this is unedited so i hope it’s not too incoherent

—

"JJ! Baby are you home?? I got ya a surprise!" you walk through the door with a sneaky smirk on your face, setting your bag on the couch as you walk in.

He walks out of the bedroom adjusting his hat on his head, his eyes clocking your chest the second he looks at you. His mouth is a gap, unable to look away from your chest.

"What's that?" he points at your chest accusatory walking closer, his eyes not moving.

"What's what baby?"

"That- those- right there- those-," his finger reaches out poking at your erected nipple causing you to let out a small yelp raising your hands to cover them.

"Woah! Owe- shit baby you can't touch them yet! They're so fucking sensitive- shit that hurt."

And with that his eyes finally move from your chest up to your face, bulging out of his sockets.

"Shit mama I'm sorry- wait- pause. Time out baby, did you just say I can't touch them yet??"

You nod amused at his reaction, wincing a little at the lasting ache, "Yea, you gotta wait a couple months to let them heal."

"Well how long is that supposed to be??"

"The guy said anywhere from 4-9 months."

"NINE MONTHS??" Your poor boyfriend is flabbergasted, wounded, physically pained by the news. You could swear you see tears swelling in his eyes. "Wait- wait wait wait wait. You're telling me some random guy did this??"

"I mean yea- I had to go to a professional. It just happened to be a guy."

JJ in all honestly couldn't care less if it was a guy or a girl, he's just pissed that it wasn't him who got to do it, to be there, to see it, to see them.

"So I can't touch them at all? Until their all healed up? Mama that's too long... I can't kiss 'em? Touch 'em at all? Shit-" Poor guy is in agony, quite literally spiraling at the thought of not being able to have his hands on them. With or without the piercings. "Doesn't seem like a good surprise mama."

You can't help but laugh at him honestly, he's quite literally almost in tears.

"Are you sure about that baby?" he's about to give his two cents and complain before you carefully lift your tank top over your head and tossing it on the couch next to your bag. "How about now."

Now, the boy is silent. Stuck dead in his tracks, mouth open like a fish out of water gasping for air.

"I know they're a little bruised and swollen so they look funny right now but-"

"Shhhh sh sh sh-" He interrupts you putting a finger to your lips, looking down at them in admiration. Again you can't help but giggle. Your boyfriend has never been one to hide how he feels about anything, usually dramatically as well. "Holy shit mama- look at 'em they've got little jewels 'n shit- look so pretty mama. How am I supposed to not touch these? So beautiful-"

"Well if you want you can help me clean them but that's the closest you're gonna get."

"How do you clean 'em?" Frankly it was adorable that he was so desperate that he was willing to learn.

"I've gotta take a cup, put some saline in there and tilt it back onto them a few times so I can wash them out good- it actually looks kinda silly-"

"But when I do that I can touch them right?"

You can't stop giggling at this point. "Yes JJ, you'll be able to hold 'em while I do it."

"A win is a win I guess- I can do this. For sure."

You press a kiss to your boyfriends lip with a smile still lingering on your face. "You're adorable baby. But I don't think you'll last a day. But you can look at 'em all you want I promise. I have to wear loose shirts anyway so you'll have easier access-"

"Don't tease me right now mama I'm serious- already got me all worked up just by lookin' at 'em."

And sure enough JJ was already working a semi, "Oh you poor thing... why don't we head to the bedroom and let 'mama' fix that for you yea?"

He was off the bedroom, dragging you behind him before you could even finish.

[sturnioloskyline]

Hey, how are you?

Would you like to ask Chris for something, something where the reader is stealing his clothes? sweatshirts, shirts and etc... and maybe people even make tiktok about it? Maybe they notice an old video of Chris, where he is wearing one of his sweatshirts, and in the new video you are wearing his sweatshirt that appeared in the old video? sometimes even matching clothes?

thanks!!

secret’s out

pairing: chris x fem!reader

warnings: secret relationship, language, time jumps, kissing, cuddling, not proofread

summary: you and chris were in a secret relationship, but your clothes might have given you away.

thank u for the request, anon! 🫶🏽

"okay, can you hurry up? we got everything set up and i just want to get this over with," nick was on facetime, only the top half of his face showing. you had your phone propped up on your desk as you rushed around your room, gathering your things.

"chill, im about to leave," you rolled your eyes, walking over to your phone and picking it up. nick adjusted his angle so his full face was showing, giving you an unamused look. you stuck your tongue out at him. "okay. i'm gonna hang up now, be there in a—"

"wait!" a voice called from the background of the call. you watched as nick looked up from his phone to someone in front of him. "is that y/n?"

"yeah?" nick replied with a suspicious tone. suddenly, a face appeared at the top of the screen, upside down and peering at the phone.

"hi y/n!" chris grinned. you couldn't keep your lips from turning up into a smile.

"hi chris," a light blush dusted over your cheeks at the sight of him. nick's eyebrows furrowed as chris's grin only grew wider.

unbeknownst to nick and matt, you and chris had been dating each other for the past few months. you had been best friends with the triplets for years, but you've always known that your relationship with chris was more than friendly. when chris had finally admitted the feelings he had for you, the two of you agreed to keep your romance a secret. matt and nick were very protective over the both of you, and if either of you told them that you were seeing someone, they would go ballistic. plus, given the size of the triplets' audience, being in a public relationship with chris could end up incredibly messy. chris and you were content with keeping everything a secret though, enjoying the lack of judgement from others. and sneaking around was fun too, of course.

"you guys are weird," nick said, tilting the phone back down so that only he was in frame. "see you, y/n."

nick hung up and you tossed your phone into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and headed out to your car.

...

"NOOO!" chris yelled out, putting his face in his hands. the four of you were making a disgusting food roulette as a last minute effort for the video that was supposed to come out tonight. the randomizer nick was using had chosen chris to drink coconut water, arguably one of the worst drinks on the planet. you, matt, and nick burst into a fit of laughter, knowing that this would get a big reaction out of chris.

"c'mon chris, drink up!" matt teased his brother. chris reached for the box, bringing it up to his face. he used his other hand to plug his nose, bringing the drink up to his lip and quickly taking a big gulp. he immediately let out a loud gag, only causing you and nick to laugh harder.

chris made a face at the taste lingering in his mouth. he groaned, rushing over to the kitchen sink to rinse out his mouth with the open container of coconut water still in hand. however, on his way to the sink his body slammed into yours at full speed, sending you tumbling to the floor as coconut water shot upwards. before you knew it, the coconut water had come splashing down on top of you, all over your shirt.

"CHRIS!" you yelled through giggles. nick had doubled over in laughter, and matt clapped his hands over his mouth.

"oh my god! i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" chris apologized frantically, immediately leaning down to your level to help you up. "are you okay?"

"yeah, just fucking drenched in coconut water!" you whined playfully. "ew! i can taste it!"

the four of you stayed laughing uncontrollably for a few moments, before you headed over the bathroom to clean up.

"i brought an extra shirt, i'll just change really quick," you told the triplets, shutting the bathroom door behind you. you pulled a black and white t-shirt out of your bag, swapping it with the wet white tee you were wearing. you adjusted it as you slipped it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the pattern, images of betty boop scattered across the shirt, the top reading 'hollyboop'. you couldn't really remember where you had gotten the shirt from, but it was cute so you just kept it.

you made your way out of the bathroom, tossing your bag on the couch and joining the boys behind the counter. chris's eyes scanned over you, and you took notice. you glanced up at him, giving him a 'what's wrong?' look, but he just shook his head, biting back a smile.

"okay, let's continue," nick ordered, and you guys finished up the video.

...

when it was time for you to leave, you gathered your things and gave matt and nick each a hug goodbye. "goodnight guys!"

"goodnight y/n," the two of them said in unison, heading to their rooms for bed.

"i'll walk you to your car," chris said, opening the front door for you. you smiled at him, checking to make sure matt and nick couldn't see you before placing a quick kiss on his cheek. you stepped outside, chris shutting the door behind you. you made your way to the driveway, where your car was parked. you opened the backseat and threw your stuff inside, shutting the door and standing outside of the driver's seat. chris stood in front of you as he paced his hands on yor waist, pulling you into him. you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into his shoulder.

"do you have to go?" chris whined. you chuckled, pulling bak to look at his face.

"what am i supposed to do, spend the night here when your brothers are home?"

"can't i just go to your place for the night? i wanna spend more time with you," chris mumbled, leaning down to kiss you softly. your heart fluttered in your chest, and as much as you knew this was a bad idea, you just couldn't resist.

"fine, get in," you rolled your eyes, watching as a goofy grin took over chris's face. he quickly pecked your lips again before heading over to the passenger seat, eager to go to your place.

...

the next morning, you woke up to chris's phone violently buzzing on your nightstand. chris was fast asleep, his shirtless torso sprawled on top of you.

"babe," you groaned, pushing him off of you. chris whined in response, slinging an arm over your body. "pick up the phone."

"no," chris rasped out, pulling you close to him. "let it go to voicemail."

you sighed, too tired to argue. soon enough the buzzing ended and you shut your eyes, ready to fall asleep again.

then the phone started ringing again.

"what the fuck," chris mumbled, reaching over you to pick up his phone, staring at the caller id. his eyes widened at the screen and he sat up, pulling away from you.

"what?" you asked chris, slightly annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.

"it's matt," chris explained, clearing his throat and bringing his phone to his ear. now it was your turn for your eyes to widen. you leaned up to chris in an attempt to hear whatever matt was saying. "hello?"

"chris, where the hell are you?" matt asked, his voiced laced with worry.

"uh, i, um," chris stuttered, unable to form an excuse. you slapped your hand against your forehead.

"are you at y/n's?" matt asked. you fully sat up at the question. how in the world did matt know?

chris looked at you, not knowing what to say. you let out a sigh, taking his phone from his hands. you put the phone on speaker.

"uh, yeah. it's y/n. chris is here." you bit your lip. chris placed a hand on your leg, rubbing his thumb up and down your skin. a moment of silence passed.

"so it's true?" matt asked ominously. you furrowed your eyebrows.

"what's true?" you asked in response, confused as to what matt was referring to.

"have you guys checked twitter at all since last night?" matt asked carefully. you looked at chris with worry, handing him his phone and grabbing your own from your nightstand. you opened twitter, only to see that your inbox was overflowing. you clicked on a notification as it popped up at the top of your screen, leading you to a tweet.

'THERE'S NO WAY' the tweet read, two pictures attached. one of photos was a screenshot from an old car video of chris, in the same betty boop t-shirt that you were currently in. the second photo was a screenshot from last night's video, after you had changed into the shirt.

"fuck," you whispered, scrolling through your feed to find hundreds more tweets noting the shirt, as well as other times that you and chris had shared any item of clothing.

'is this why y/n's fresh love is always oversized?'

'OMG I KNEW IT'

'i remember chris had y/n's hairtie on his wrist in one of the car videos'

'if u go to 14:17 u can see chris put his hand on y/n's back'

'every time chris and y/n have shared clothes, a thread'

you turned your phone to show chris, who ran a hand through his hair. "shit."

on the other end of the line, matt had rushed to nick's room. "nick! chris and y/n are together."

"see! i told you," nick yelled. chris furrowed his eyebrows.

"what do you mean 'i told you'?" you asked.

"you guys are so obvious," nick scoffed. "i always knew you had a thing for each other."

you groaned, bringing a hand up to rub your temples. chris wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in so that you rested against his chest.

"how long has this been going on?" matt asked.

"we've been dating for nine months," chris mumbled, still sleepy.

"NINE MONTHS?!?!" matt exclaimed. you sighed.

"yeah, nine months. listen, i'll bring chris back in a bit. we're going back to sleep." chris smiled down at you, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

"wait—" chris cut matt off by hanging up the phone, turning on do not disturb and placing it back on the nightstand.

"i'm sorry, i didn't know that was your shirt," you mumbled into chris's chest. chris brought a hand under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"you have nothing to be sorry about," chris whispered, leaning down to kiss you. you smiled softly, bring your hand up to the back of his neck. chris pulled back, lying down and pulling you down with him. he tucked some of your messy hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead. "we can worry about all of this later. for now, let's just go back to sleep, okay baby?"

"okay," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and laying your head on chris's shoulder. chris ran a hand up down your back, lulling you to sleep.

"i love you," you spoke into chris's shoulder as sleep took over your body.

"i love you too, so much." chris let his head fall against yours, relaxing and letting himself fall back asleep next to you.

...

author's note: i hope this was what u wanted 😭. im a little swamped rn, but i promise i see all of ur guys's requests and they will be coming soon!! also im seeing drake 🤭

[raphael-angele]

Nico Protection Squad

WARNING: Use of hateful slur

Nico, coming home from school with Percy: Hey, Reyna. Hey, Jason.

Reyna: Hey, Nico.

Jason: Hey, Buddy

Percy: Hey, guys. Uh, Nico, why don't you go to your room and rest. We need to talk.

Nico: Mkay. *leaves*

Percy: Make sure to do your homework, alright?

Nici: Uh huh!

Reyna: What happened?

Jason: Is he okay?

Percy: ...we need to call the team

---Later---

At one of their rooms:

Percy: Good day, everyone. I know it's late and it's unusual for me to call a meeting at this time but this is an emergency

Annabeth: But first, an attendance check. Annabeth? Here. Bianca?

Hazel: Oh, she comes back next week

Annabeth: Ok. Jason? Here. Thalia? Here. Percy? Here. Hazel? Here. Piper? Here. Reyna? Here. Will? Here. Grover? Here. Leo? Here. Frank? Here. And Mr. D? Present! Ok, that should be everyone. Take it away Percy

Percy, clearing his throat: Okay, I need you guys to swear that you will not go berserk right after this and you will remain seated until we have a plan.

Everyone:

Percy: So, I was picking up Nico from class. On the drive back, he...

Hazel: He what?

Percy: He...asked me what a faggot was.

Everyone:

Thalia: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

Will: Is he okay?!

Hazel: Where did he even learn that from?!

Jason: Did someone call him that?!?!?

Reyna: WHO THE HELL WOULD CALL HIM THAT?!?!?

Leo: Every single douchebag in school, of course!

Piper: You think they'd learn their lesson after the first time

Percy: *gavels* Order! Order!

Grover: I think we're all missing the point here. How's Nico doing?

Percy: He's fine. I asked him where he knew the word from. He said someone was calling him that, a couple of students a year above him apparently.

Frank: What happened then?

Percy: I asked him if he knew their names. He didn't and he asked me again what it meant.

Will: What did you say?

Percy: I didn't answer. There was a McDonalds right there and I went for it. He took the bait and has been quiet for the whole car ride.

Grover: So...what do we do?

Leo: OH! *raises his hand* WE'LL SET THEIR LOCKERS ON FIRE!

Thalia: I think what Grover meant was what do we do for now? We don't know these guys, and we don't know how much it's affecting Nico.

Reyna: Thalia's right. We need to have a plan to protect Nico and catch these bastards.

Annabeth: Percy and I already thought about it.

Percy: Introducing the Pick up/Drop off Nico Chart. We each get a schedule of when to pick him up, and when to drop him off

Annabeth: And to make sure we catch these guys, we think it would be best to see Nico off to his classrooms or at least the building.

Thalia, raising her hand: Uhm-

Percy: Don't worry. We adjusted it for times you guys are away. Which is why we used magnets to represent us. See? I'm the water droplet, Annabeth's the owl, Grover's the goat, Leo's the fire, you're the tree, Hazel's the-

Annabeth: They get it, Percy. All in favor of the chart say aye

Everyone, raises their hand: Aye!

Leo: So how are we gonna get back at these guys?

Jason: We could tell them off to the dean

Percy: You'd suggest that, wouldn't you, Mr. Goody Two Shoes?

Piper: I can charmspeak them to do embarassing stuff

Percy: Eh, we need something more

Annabeth: I'm writing that one down, it sounds funny

Mr D.: I am the God of Insanity. I can just drive them crazy.

Annabeth: Mr. D, no.

Percy: Not a bad idea though. I'm writing it down.

Will: Wait. I think I figured out another problem

Percy: What is it, Will?

Will: Who tells Bianca?

Everyone:

Percy: ...all in favor of keeping this a secret from Bianca, say aye?

Everyone, terrified: Aye!

Will: Whu- Percy, no. Remember that time you didn't tell her about how you accidentally destoryed Nico's mythomagic cards and made him sad for nearly a month?

Percy: *shivers* I still get nightmares from that.

Annabeth: Fine. Who tells her?

Everyone: *looks at Reyna and Thalia*

Reyna: No

Thalia: Absolutely not.

Mr. D: Hang on. If Bianca is so terrifying, why not just give the guys to her?

Percy: Mr. D, although that's a tempting plan, there is no telling what Bianca will do to those guys if we let her get near them.

Mr. D: She can't be THAT scary.

Everyone: Yes, she can.

Percy: With what she did to me? She might as well have sent me to Tartarus!

Frank: Gods, what did she do to him?

Annabeth: She took away all the blue in our apartment and replaced them with orange.

Percy: It took a month before she put them back! There was no blue food for a month!

[sxcretricciardo]

IN TIME

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

"Danny, you need to come to terms that might be a possibility." You say. You're now almost 9 months pregnant with Daniel's baby. Your due date is next weekend, which is also the weekend of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the last of Daniel's F1 season. The thought of not having your boyfriend of four years by your side in the most important day of both your lives terrifies you, but you came to terms that might be a strong possibility.

Daniel sighs and says "I know... Just the thought of it makes me nauseous." His eyes are fixed on the road in front of him as he drives.

"If it happens, it's gonna be okay, I promise you." You say, squeezing his free hand in reassurance.

"I just want to be there, that's all." He says.

"I know, love. I don't want anyone but you there too, believe me. But you have a good chance of coming third in the championship and I don't want you to give that away." You say, giving him a soft smile. You know Daniel has been working his ass off this season to be on that podium and it all comes down to this last race.

"Thank you for your support, sweets." He says, giving you a forced smile.

"We're not gonna overthink this, okay? If it happens next weekend, then it happens. If it doesn't, even better. She'll come when she's ready." You say, putting your hand on your belly.

"She's a daddy's girl, I know she'll wait." He says, smiling.

"Okay, yeah." You say and roll your eyes.

He laughs and continue the journey to the nearest McDonald's. Your baby girl has been craving a Big Mac for days now, and since Daniel came home for a couple of days, it's the best opportunity to finally eat one with your boyfriend.

-one week later-

Danny was right. Your due date was yesterday and your baby girl is still warm and cozy inside your belly. Daniel boarded the plane and is now in his way to the house. You are now sitting on the couch waiting for him, your hand is gently rubbing your belly.

You hear the door open and then close. Danny calls out to you and you tell him that you're in the living room. He comes in and sits on the couch right next to you, his head immediately falling gently on your belly, as he hugs you and your unborn daughter.

"Thank you for waiting, princess." He says, kissing your belly. He lifts his head and then kisses you on the lips.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Just feeling a bit discomfort but besides that, I'm okay." You say, your hand going to his hair to massage it. You can only imagine your daughter having the same brown curly hair as Daniel.

After that, you guys have a nice dinner and get ready to go to bed. In the middle of the night, you start feeling some major pain and get up from the bed, trying to not wake up Daniel. You make your way to the kitchen and grab a cup of water.

You breath in heavily, after another wave of pain goes trough your body. Suddenly, you feel a warm rush spreading between your legas. You freeze, realizing that your water just broke. Panic mixes with excitement as you realize that the moment you've been waiting for is finally here.

"Danny?" You shout, so Danny could hear you from the kitchen. When you don't hear any movement or response, you shout again, a little bit louder. You hear a "What? Where are you?"

As you answer him, you hear running from the bedroom. Two seconds later, he's right in front of you, hair messy from the bed and his eyes adjusting to the light.

"What? Are you okay?" He asks, with panic in his voice.

"I think it's time." You say. Danny looks at you, up and down and then sees the water on the floor.

"Okay, okay, don't panic. We got this." He says and walks to you, helping you to the bedroom so you can change into a new pair for panties and pants. He grabs the hospital bags and guides you to the car.

As each contraction grips you, you sink into the passenger seat, clutching the handle tightly. Danny's hand rests on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze with every surge of pain. The world outside blurs as he speeds towards the hospital, each bump in the road jolting you further into the reality of labor. Despite the discomfort, there's a sense of unity in the confined space of the car, a shared anticipation of the life-changing moment awaiting you both at the end of this ride.

Stepping trough the hospital doors, a surge of nervous energy courses trough you, mingling with the intensity of each contraction. The familiar scent of antiseptic mixes with the sounds of bustling activity, signaling that our journey to meet our baby girl is entering the final stage. Leaning on Danny for support, you make your way to the labor and delivery unit, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been waiting for.

After the nurses hook you to the machines and the doctor checks on you, the time seems to stop. Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity, because of the amount of pain you're in.

Danny whispers sweet things in your ear as he holds your hand. You squeeze it tightly as the contractions are getting closer and closer.

"I might break your hand." You joke, as you feel another contraction hitting.

He smiles and says "I love your capacity of making jokes trough something like this."

"It helps with the pain." You say and laugh.

When it's finally time to push, you surrender to the overwhelming power of your body, pushing with all of your strength as you feel your baby inching closer to the world. The room fades away, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment, as you focus all of your energy on bringing your baby into the world. Every fiber of your being strains with effort, yet there's a sense of calm within you. A calm that Danny always made you feel, even trough the hardest times. He's your rock, the calm to your storm, as cheesy it may sound.

Then, in an instant that stretches into eternity, you feel the release as your baby girl emerges, a rush of emotion flooding trough you as you hold your newborn daughter against your chest.

You start to let out tears of joy, as you look in the eyes of your baby. Danny cries into your neck and then kisses your head. When he finally holds her in his arms, he can't stop crying.

"She's beautiful." He says, looking at you. You smile at him.

And now, your family is complete.

-

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danielriciardo We are thrilled to announce the newest addition to our team: Beatrice Grace Ricciardo 🐣🩷 After 8 long hours of labor, our hearts raced with excitement as we welcomed our little champion into the world. yourusername you are such a brave and strong woman, thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you 🤍 #borntorace

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landonorris can’t wait to meet my favorite niece 🥹 already bought her so much papaya merch

-> yourusername she’s a Ferrari fan ❤️

-> scuderiaferrari our warmest welcome to our newest and youngest fan!

-> danielriciardo she’s my fan 🥺

maxverstappen1 congratulations 😘

visacashapprb a warm welcome to our youngest team member and congratulations 💗

georgerussell63 the cutest little princess, can’t wait to meet her 😊

[s6lars]

dress.

a harmless prank leaves jamal acting unexpectedly and you're determind to find out why — even if it forces you to get dangerously close. (wc: 7.5k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jm42 x reader, ft. mathys tel

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! with a good chunk of plot, jealous brother’s bsf jamal.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering + more

𝐀/𝐍. requested here, thank you for waiting patiently anon !! this is also my first time writing in months, i'm so terribly sorry that i'm rusty and it might not be my greatest work. but i hope you enjoy ! (also this is not proofread lol)

“Fuck!” you groan, examining the plastic bag in your hands.

“What? What’s wrong?” You chew on on your bottom lip, setting the bag on your thighs where you kneeled on the floor. You pick up your phone, flipping the camera so your friend could see on Facetime.

“They sent me the wrong one.”

Nothing destresses you quite as much as online shopping, and with your finals finished a few days ago, you’d gone crazy on the internet — fitting as much as your cart would allow it. The stack of boxes in your room began to pile as the orders came in one by one, and once they all did, you treated yourself to your own version of Christmas.

“Which one did you get originally?” your friend, Andrea, asks. You’ve been giving her an unboxing of everything you’d bought for yourself, opening packages on your bedroom floor with your speaker blasting Drake in the back.

“I ordered this in green, they gave it to me in black.” 

“Oh. Well, at least it’s the same dress right?” Andrea takes a bite out of the donut she’s eating. “I still think it looks nice.” “Yeah, me too. But I already have, like, 3 other black dresses,” you sigh.

“I think you should still try it on.” “You think?” “Yeah, why not? It’s just in a different color anyway.” Andrea’s right. You’re not really in the mood to go through the hassle of online returns and back-and-forth conversations with the seller. 

You leave your phone on your bedroom floor to get changed off-camera, standing in front of your mirror. The dress feels promising as you pull it out of the bag — it’s strapless, jet black in color with a few cutouts on the side joined by metal rings, exposing your sides. It feels smooth as you slide it on, the stretchy material hugging your curves and the hem stopping on your mid thighs.

“So…” You pick up your phone, showing the dress off to Andrea. “How does it look?”

Andrea gasps in awe, making you giggle at her reaction. “Oh my god, I think I’m liking this one the most so far,” she raves, and you look to the pile of the other dresses you’d bought on your floor.

You adjust the dress, smoothing it out, pulling the hem lower. The dress is gorgeous, hugging you in all the right places. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling more confident the longer you have it on.

“This is so nice, actually. Who even cares about the color anymore, I’m obsessed,” you gush.

“Mhm. And you can wear it with that purse you bought, and with the gold jewelry as well,” Andrea suggests, and you hum in agreement. As she’s talking, you reach for your water bottle on your nightstand, disappointed when you realize it’s empty. “Hey, I’m gonna fill up my water, give me a sec,” you state, muting yourself and tossing your phone on your bed.

You waltz in the kitchen, bringing your speaker with you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re home alone. You incoherently hum along to SZA, waiting for your bottle to be filled — and a loud noise erupts from behind where you stood.

“BOO!” 

You shriek, body jolting forward, causing some of the water to spill on your dress and your speaker to almost fall loose from your grip.

“What the fu— Oh my god, J.” You’re met with familiar brown eyes as you turned around, seeing Jamal with his hands flat on the kitchen island where he’d slammed them. He giggles at your annoyance. 

To most, Jamal is Bayern’s starboy, a young player dazzling in the world of football. To you, he’s your brother’s best friend, and someone who shows up unannounced to your house a lot. Your older brother Noah works in the industry as an agent, and the two of them met many years ago as teenagers. Now, they’re close as ever — so close, that Noah trusts him enough to give him a spare keycard to your shared apartment.

You met Jamal not long after they hit it off, and you can safely say you’ve also become friends with him now.

Just friends. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Like Noah has stressed multiple times before.

You grab a towel, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. “What do you want, J?”

“Is Noah home?” “No. He went to the gym,” you respond, groaning, making sure your dissatisfaction is heard loud and clear. Once you do, you turn off the obnoxiously loud speaker that prevented you from hearing his entrance. 

“Without me?”

“Yeah, he needed the time alone, clearly,” you snap back, circling around the kitchen island to face him. As you do, Jamal’s eyes trail down your body, your dress now revealed, his face twisting in a mix of confusion and awe. 

“Bit early for a night out, no?” He says, clearly referencing to your dress. He’d be right, it’s only the early evening.

You look down at your dress before meeting his eyes again, seeing him shift uncomfortably. “Who said this was for a night out?”

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s not?”

The devil on your shoulder is telling you to get back at him for almost ruining your dress and breaking your speaker. If he can show up unannounced, why can’t you lie and pull a few strings? “No… it’s for a date.”

You lie straight through your teeth, making up a story as you go. Jamal’s jaw falls slack, like he’s about to say something, but then it closes before he does.

“A… date?” He heard you the first time. He just wants to know if you’re being serious.

And you keep pretending that you are. “Yeah, a date. Why’s that so shocking?” You fold your arms, leaning against the kitchen island.

Jamal pauses. “With who?” While you’re biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, he’s having none of it. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tense as he questions you.

“With this guy from uni. He’s just so sweet,” you sigh dreamily for dramatic effect, dragging the gimmick as long as you could. “We’ve been talking for a while and now he wants to get serious.” “Serious?” 

“...Yeah. I really think we could be a thing.” Your face falters at Jamal’s deadpan response. You’re only joking with him, but even if you weren’t, why is the mention of a date getting him like this?

You succesfully pulled his strings— but you don’t know if you should be happy or not. Jamal looks at you, almost in offense, and you can practically see the steam coming off of his ears. You’ve known him for a while, and yet this is the first you’ve seen of him like this.

“Tell Noah I’m not hanging out today.” Jamal storms out the kitchen, your mouth falling agape at his reaction. You trail behind him, worried that you took it too far.

“What? No, Jamal wait—” He doesn’t spare a single glance as he marches out the door, slamming it in your face, sending the hinges rattling. You’re frozen in your spot, unable to move or even process what just happened for a few moments before you’re dragging yourself back to your room, still slightly shaken.

You grab your phone and unmute yourself, still seeing Andrea on the line.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, what took you so long?” She notices the startled look in your eyes, sitting up in her bed.

“Sorry. Jamal … came over earlier. It was weird,” you say, slumping against your headboard.

“Weird? Isn’t he your friend? Or a friend of your brother?”

“Yeah, but… well, I—” you exhale, taking the time to string your words properly. “I was joking around, but then he got really upset and stormed out,” you explain.

“What the hell?” “I know. I’ve never seen him that pissed off. Not because of me at least.”

“That’s so weird. All over a joke?” “Yeah.” “What a prick,” Andrea sneers.

“No, don’t say that.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t really want to tell Andrea that the joke in question involved you lying about going on a date. “Hey, I gotta go. Bye.” 

You abruptly end the call carelessly tossing your phone aside. Now that you’re alone, you stare at the ceiling, finally having the time to process the interaction. The mood has shifted now. An inkling creeps into your thoughts as to why Jamal got so defensive, but you shrug it off, terrified of its consequences, terrified it would manifest.

“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble to yourself. But is it? You’re tossing and turning in bed because something is telling you that it’s not just nothing, and you have to find out for yourself.

You have to talk to Jamal.

“You’re up early.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see Noah splayed on the living room couch, working on his laptop.

You take a sip from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table before replying. “And you’re home for once.”

Noah gets exceptionally busy during the transfer window. You’ve been getting used to spending weeks home alone, or only catching him in the early mornings or coming in late at night, but almost never when the sun was out. Part of you thinks it’s not just work that’s been holding up, though.

“You know how busy I get in January,” Noah says. He squints as he watches you sit adjacent to him, putting on your socks and shoes. “And where are you headed?”

You pause. “Just going on a walk.”

Noah doesn’t need to know that the walk in question is en route to Jamal’s house.

Last night, you went to bed uneasy, hoping you could sleep it off. You woke up this morning and nothing had changed, and that’s when you decided you had to talk to Jamal immediately or you’d explode by midday. Noah being home wasn’t part of your plans.

He’s always been a little protective, as all older brothers are to their sisters. You vividly recall when you first met Jamal at one of his infamous house parties— alone in the kitchen, getting drinks for your friends when he strolled in, starting a conversation. It was an instant connection, with you finding yourself taking your sweet time just to keep talking to him.

Of course, Noah barged in at one point, throwing his arm around you and escorting you out of the kitchen himself, not before interrogating you on your conversation with Jamal.

Although he’s loosened up since, you know Noah would start getting skeptical if you told him you were headed to Jamal’s place first thing in the morning. But what Noah doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Right, bye.” Just as you stand up to leave, Noah interrupts.

“Wait! Can you get some sandwiches from the café when you come back? Thanks!” 

“As long as you pay me back!” you chime, already halfway out the door.

The walk to Jamal’s place is a rare but not unfamiliar one. You live not too far away, and there have been countless times where you had to pick Noah up after a night out, so you knew the way well. You could’ve taken your car, but you decided you need the extra time for yourself, deciding on a walk.

You’re not really sure what you’re getting out of this. Your mind fluctuates between feeling like this is the right thing to do and the urge to turn back and buy those sandwiches Noah was talking about earlier.

But you never do, and now you’re standing in front of his doorway.

Unlike with your house, Jamal’s never given you a spare set of keys so you can waltz into his at any given moment. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your heart beating out of your chest as you do.

Silence. You ring the doorbell a few more times, hearing the soft pattering of footsteps behind the door. 

You fix your hair and adjust your clothes, awaiting Jamal’s arrival. 

Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman when the door swings open.

A half-naked woman.

She looks slightly older than you, dressed in only a sports bra and sweats, her hair tussled like she just woke up. You’re both looking at each other up and down, confused. This is the first you two have seen of each other.

“Can I help you?” She’s the first to break the silence. You reluctantly meet her gaze. There’s a weird territorial atmosphere lingering between you two, like the person standing before you shouldn’t be here.

“Uh, I’m looking for Jamal,” you say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you anticipated. A pit continues to grow in your stomach. You probably should have turned back home when you had the chance.

“Oh, he’s in the shower.”

Your heart drops. You’re not an idiot, and you’re no child— you can put two and two together. Neither is Jamal, and you know he probably hooks up with someone whenever he gets the chance. But why does that bother you so much? And why are you only feeling this way now?

You’re lost in your thoughts, and the woman waves a hand in front of your face, trying to pull you back to reality.. “Did you need anything? He’ll probably take a while.”

You shake your head, already getting ready to take off. “Just tell him I was joking yesterday.”

“Huh?” Turning around on your heels, you leave the woman hanging, walking away from the door. Whatever you were expecting to happen when you got to Jamal’s place, it surely isn’t this.

You glare straight ahead, not caring for whoever you bumped into. All you knew was just in that moment, you had to get as far away as possible from Jamal’s house. And so you did, marching as far as your legs would take you, until beads of sweat ran down your temples and your breathing turned heavy.

Maybe Noah was right in trying to put some distance between you two.

Meanwhile, Jamal dries himself off with a towel as he leaves his bathroom. He walks into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, passing by his front door, seeing the girl he picked up last night standing by.

She hears his footsteps as he comes down the stairs, turning to face him. “Morning, baby,” she coos, putting on the best lovey-dovey voice she could muster.

Jamal winces at the remark. “I’ll get you a taxi after you shower,” he replies, walking right past her and into the kitchen. The girl rolls her eyes, groaning silently. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to get closer to him when all they’re doing this for is sex.

“Some girl came over while you were in the shower, by the way,” she brazenly states, hoping to get his attention for once. 

“Who?” “Like I know. She just came by and asked if you were here, and then told me to tell you that she was just joking yesterday?”

It works. Jamal stops dead in his tracks. “And what did she look like?” The girl starts describing how you looked from the short appearance you made earlier. The more she speaks, she sees the gears turning in Jamal’s head as he puts two and two together, ultimately realizing that you had gone all the way to his house just to talk to him.

He looks at the girl before him. She came all the way to his house, probably to apologize, just to be met with one of his random hookups who he barely even spoke to outside his bedroom.

Jamal’s eyes widen in realization at how horribly he’d fucked up, abandoning his breakfast and rushing back up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Who is she?” The girl asks, waving her hand to get his attention, though all her calls are ignored as he shoves his way into his room to go looking for his phone, unplugging it from where it was charging on his nightstand.

His fingers rapidly dart across the screen as he types out a message, a desperate attempt at reaching you before it was too late.

[07:42] jamal: did you come over earlier? [07:43] jamal: i promise it’s not what it looks like [07:43] jamal: we can talk if you want to [07:43] jamal: just the two of us

Your phone buzzes four seperate times as you stand in line at the café down the street from your apartment building. Sometime during your walk, Noah had transferred some money into your account for both breakfast and you figured you needed the distraction.

It didn’t last long as you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing the notifications from Jamal poured in. You shut your eyes, collecting your emotions before you shoved it back in, fixing your hair in frustration.

Out of sight, out of mind. Jamal got his chance when you were at his doorstep, willing, and he you weren’t about to give him a second. The fact that he thinks you would sets something off in you.

He watches as his texts stay on delivered. Deep down, he knows you read them through your lockscreen, and now you were choosing to deliberately ignore him. He stares at the screen in defeat, before another text comes in.

[08:01] noah: you’re coming over tomorrow night yeah?

The party. Noah had invited him and some other players to hang out before the season started, a tradition that’s persisted in the friend group for years. It’s hosted at his place this time around, a golden oppportunity.

Jamal has to talk to you.

For the first time in his life, Jamal regrets going to a party.

He’s used to having a blast, used to being the man in any room he walks into, instantly greeted by faces both familiar and unfamiliar, desperate to show him around— desperate to be seen with him.

Now, he throws his head back agains the wall of Noah’s living room, drink in hand, asking himself why he even left the house today.

Jamal arrived extra early to his friend’s place, hoping to catch you in a moment alone before it got busy. To his dismay, Noah informed him that you’d been out since the morning. Then he had to help him clean. A total nightmare.

He’s not so sure if you knew he was coming today, or just so happened to not be at home. Whatever the reasoning, he’d rather not have turned up altogether had you not been here.

While he’s drinking away his sorrows, you’re pushing him out of your mind as you spent the day with your friends. Shopping, going to the spa, more shopping, bar hopping— it was a perfect day.

Your smile quickly faded when you came home and was greeted with a crowd of men in your living room.

“Hey! You’re home,” Noah greets, pulling you into a hug. He gives you a look of guilt as he sees your eyes squint in confusion, knowing he didn’t tell you he was inviting people over.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I figured you’d be out the whole day!” he reasons. 

“You’re so fucking annoying, I hope you know that,” you sneer, and Noah can’t fight back. You scan the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. If it wasn’t for them, you would have cussed him out right then and there.

He knows you’re tired from going out all day, he knows you just want to rest. “Okay, listen, this isn’t anything crazy, we’re just gonna drink and talk, no loud music or inviting more people. It’s just my friends.”

Friends. You scan the crowd once more. If Noah ever mentions anything about friends, one person is almost always involved.

Jamal. You lock eyes with him, he’s been staring at you from across the room since you walked in the door. There’s a mix of anger, frustration and yearning brewing in your chest. You want to shove him down a flight of stairs. You also want to run into his arms. It’s complicated.

Noah shoves a can of beer in your hands, and you finally look away from Jamal. “Here, take this. Loosen up,” he says before leaving. You sip away your unwanted emotions and wince like it stings going down. 

Knowing Jamal is here and with the intention of talking to you sparks an idea in your brain, washing a boost of confidence over your body. He can’t look away from you and you know it, and you had to take this chance in sending him a message.

Your message comes in the form of a youngster sitting on the living room couch.

“Mathys!” You approach him, arms wide to pull him in for a hug that seems a little too friendly in Jamal’s eyes. He grips his glass harder.

“Hey! When did you come in?” he asks, and you sit next to him, grazing your thigh against his. You take a big swig from the can, needing the extra tenacity.

“Not too long ago.” You start talking to Mathys about your day, striking up a normal conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch glimpses of Jamal glancing at you from time to time. It’s not enough. You want him to feel the way you did when you showed up on his doorstep the other day.

Mathys was happily recounting his encounter with some rapper he’d crossed paths with when you put your hand on his leg, rubbing his thigh up and down. You leaned in to his ear, covering your mouth to avoid Jamal from reading your lips. He jumps slightly at the motion, you’re never this close to him.

“Can I tell you something?” He nods, scared but intrigued.

“I’m trying to piss Jamal off. Will you help me?” Similarly to Jamal, you and Mathys have always been close friends. He’s younger than you, so you’ve always viewed him like a little brother more than anything, but that’s not to say you don’t appreciate his company. You knew he would definitely be down to help you tonight.

Mathys pulls away, searching deep in your eyes for certainty. He discovers you’re serious.

A smirk plays on his face as he nods slowly to himself. He’s not stupid, he quickly pieces things together. If he’s being honest, he’s always known something was going on between you and Jamal anyway. “Alright, alright. Deal.” “Deal, yeah? If anything I do gets too far, just tell me,” you assure.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be worth it in the end. Do what you must,” he says, winking.

It didn’t take long for the ball to start rolling. It starts off innocent — you laugh just a little too loud at one of his jokes, planting your palm on his chest as you do, playing with your hair. The small gesture has Jamal shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

It wasn’t enough.

You pull out your phone, asking Mathys if he wants a picture. He extends one arm behind you on the couch, leaning into you. Wrapping his shoulders with your free arm, you pushed your heads together, scooting closer to him, to the point where your legs were folded over his thighs. Jamal knows what you’re doing now, and it’s driving him to insanity. Yet, he stands there, unmoving.

It wasn’t enough.

The final straw came from Mathys. You tipped your drink as far back as you could, trying to get the last few sips from the can. A few stray drops landed on the corner of your mouth instead, dribbling down your chin as you raised your hand below it to make it stop. 

He reaches over to catch the beer with his thumb, cupping your face, gently swiping your lips.

Jamal storms out of the living room.

Mathys takes his hand off of you immediately afterwards, and you two share a laugh, feeling achieved. “Well, he’s really pissed now,” he remarks.

“Good.”

He glances at you in curiousity at your deadpan, sly response. He had fun doing this whole tidbit with you, but he doesn’t even know why you’re doing it in the first place. “What’d he even do to you for you to do this?”

“Long story,” you say it in a way that lets him know you’re not going to go into further detail. You stand up from the couch, bag in hand. “I’ll be in my room. Thanks Mathys, that was fun.” He winks at you, clicking his tongue in response.

You made the walk to you room with your head held high in victory. The message you were delivering was definitely heard by Jamal, loud and clear. He’s not the only one that gets to mess around with whoever he wants. 

You kick your heels off, throwing your bag on the floor and plopping down on the bed, scrolling on your phone. Tossing and turning, you ended up curled with your back facing the door, and that’s when it barges open.

“Hey.” You turn around, it’s Noah. You go back to scrolling on your phone.

“What do you want?” “I’m not gonna be at home tonight, yeah? Most of the guys already left anyway. Just wanted to let you know,” he says, rambling. “It’s just, work stuff…” You roll your eyes. Noah’s always been bad at keeping secrets, especially when it involves girls.

“Yes Noah, I’ll be fine alone while you go spend the night with that girl you met in Berlin. We all know you like her.” You don’t even have to look at Noah to know his mouth had fallen slack, the words being ripped from his throat.

“Man. That bad, huh?” Noah chuckles. “Alright, I’m leaving. Bye,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes pass as you lied there unmoving. still scrolling through your feed when the door opens a second time. You hear the hinge creak open and the click of the knob as the person enters your room without saying a word.

You sit up straight, looking behind you. “Mathys? Is that y—” It’s Jamal. Daggers shoot from his eyes, watching you roll your eyes and go back to using your phone.

“What do you want, Jamal?” you groan. The fact that you’re not calling him by his usual nickname, not bothering to even spare a glance has his face contorting.

“Since when have you and Mathys been that close?” His voice is deep, interrogative, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t tense up at his tone, chills arising through your body.

You build up the courage to face him properly, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Why should I tell you about the people I’m hanging out with?”

“Hanging out?” he spits in disbelief, vitriol laced in his words.

“Yeah! Hanging out, Jamal, what’s so wrong about that? Huh?” you exclaim. You can’t believe the sheer hypocrisy in his words. “You’re one to judge, at least I was only talking to Mathys anyway.” “He had his hand around your neck and he was just gawking at your body the whole time, don’t act stupid!” he snaps back, raising his hands and dropping them to his sides.

You jump onto your feet. “At least I don’t go around fucking other girls as soon as one of them stops giving me attention!” Jamal’s eyes widen, offended. You both know what you were referring to.

“You told me you were going on a date with someone! You said he was the one — how the fuck was I supposed to know you were joking?!” He takes a few steps closer.

You struggle to find the right response, your mouth periodically opening and closing. He’s got a point. You hate that he does. “You didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself! You just stormed out of the house!”

“Yeah, of course! After hearing you say that, of course I did!” “Why?!” you ask, watching his eyes go wide, his mouth shut, unable (or maybe not wanting) to respond. “Tell me why.” Now it’s you who takes a step closer, and Jamal’s at arms length, causing you to look up at him as you speak.

He says nothing back. 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumble. You move past him, lightly bumping your shoulders together as you do to convey your anger. You need to get a drink from the kitchen, and hopefully by the time you come back, Jamal will be gone.

Just as your fingers graze the doorknob, a strong grip gets a hold of your arm. It all happened so fast. One second you were facing the door, the next — your back hit the wall, and Jamal’s lips were on yours.

The kiss was hungry, one of Jamal’s hands on the back of your head, tilting it to kiss you deeper, the other on your waist. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck, scratching the back of his head, pulling him closer.

One of Jamal’s knees slipped between your legs, rubbing against your crotch. A breathy moan escaped your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It was a messy, desperate kiss — a clash of teeth and tongue, Jamal making up with his lips what he can’t with his voice.

Jamal runs his hands up and down your dress. Your dress — it’s the same one you wore a few days ago, when you first got into the argument. It’s driving him crazy and you know it, it’s evident in the way he trails his mouth lower to your neck and down to your exposed cleavage.

“Jl,” you whine, teetering on a plea. He presses his forehead against yours, watching your eyes trained on him, your lipstick smeared and loose strands flying from your hair. He don’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

“This dress looks so good on you.” It’s all he can say before he’s kissing you again, a lot softer this time around.

“Mhm. Wore it just for you,” you breathe in between kisses. “Now take it off, please.” Your voice, your words, they rush straight to his cock. 

“Jump,” he instructs, and you do. Jamal walks over to your bed, plopping you on the soft pillows, his lips moulding against yours the whole time. He presses kisses lower on your neck, sucking, biting, being sure to leave a trail of purple marks for to blossom tomorrow morning.

Jamal takes the cut of your dress in his hands, pulling the fabric down, groaning at the sight of you without a bra. He wastes no time in swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud, causing you to throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sucks and pulls with his teeth, moulding the other with his hands before switching, grinding down on your clothed core.

Once he’s satisified, he takes one last look at your tits — now glossy with his spit and marked purple, before climbing lower down your body. He bunches the material of your dress up your waist, exposing your panties to him.

Jamal takes hold of your legs, pressing a kiss to your crotch, smirking when your back arches, whining at the contact. 

“Fuck, don’t tease, please.” Your hand pushes his head closer to where you’re dripping, where you want him the most.

Jamal chuckles at your desperation, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them carelessly aside. He spreads your lips, cursing under his breath when he sees the string of wetness that’s accumulated.

“You’re soaked,” he says, planting delicate kisses to the inside of your thighs, intently watching how you jolt at each one.

“Jamal, please.” He loves it when you beg. 

“Shh, I know, baby.” And he finally licks one long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way a moan is punched from your lips. You’re lucky your brother is out for the night, because he’s certain it can be heard through the walls.

He plants a few more kisses before spreading your lips, delving his tongue in your hole. Your thighs clamp shut around his head, but his strength pries them open. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit, swirling figure-eights on it.

You’re a writhing mess, your throat dry from moaning and calling his name over and over. Jamal never wants to stop hearing the pretty noises you make.

He continues to push his tongue in your cunt, using his thumb to circle your clit, doubling the pleasure. He explores your walls, finding the spongy spot that punches a particularly loud moan from your throat.

“Fuck! Don’t—ah—don’t stop,” you beg, and Jamal is happy to oblige. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations rushing through your body. He feels you get wetter by the second, your juices coating his mouth and running down the sheets.

Your breathing is short and erratic, your fingers tugging at his hair as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Jamal’s mouth. He licks the slick running down your inner thighs, pressing some final few kisses to your clit before hovering over you, meeting your eyes.

The sight of Jamal above you is nothing short of glorious — his chin glossy from your juices, his eyes blown out and his lips plump and swollen. He can say the same for you below him, once snappy and sarcastic now panting and ruined.

You cup his cheek, adorlingly gazing into his eyes before tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes your wrists, one by one, pinning them above your head with one hand.

“Need to make sure you can take me, baby,” he coos. “Is that okay?” You nod rapidly. You’d say yes to anything if he asked.

Jamal chuckles, his free hand trailing lower down your body and finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, bucking up into his hand when he does.

“J—oh.” He slips a finger into your cunt, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw falls agape as you do. He pumps slowly at first, feeling your pinned hands try to escape his grip, but he pushes them down harder.

After a few moments, he slips another one in, filling you with two digits. “Shit,” you whine, closing your eyes shut.

“You can take it, yeah?” he asks. 

“Mhm, I can take more, a lot more.” Jamal feels his cock throb in his pants, desperate to be freed. He picks up the pace, and you squirm beneath him, taking your bottom lip in your teeth.

Jamal pushes deeper, curling his fingers inside your walls. Every time he fucks into you, his palm rubs against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. Once he finds your sweet spot, he relentlessly goes faster, chasing your second orgasm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you blabber, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of Jamal’s fingers.

“Hey, look at me,” he instructs, and eyes shoot open on instinct, seeing his brown eyes bore into yours.

“Want to see how you look when you cum.” 

You struggle in keeping your eyes open but do so to the best of your ability, your chest heaving up and down as your moans get more sporadic. Jamal is lost in your eyes, his wrist starting to tire from his movements. After one rough push of his hands, shockwaves rippling through your body as your second orgasm washes over you.

Slick runs down your thighs, onto the bedsheets and on Jamal’s wrist. He pulls out, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact before he licks them clean, tasting every last drop. Jamal sits up on his heels and you follow suit, kneeling in front of him. You grab the hem of his shirt, quickly pushing it up and over his head, exposing his torso. You’re entranced by his physique, trailing your nails down his chest and abs. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.

“Fuck me, J,” you plead in between kisses, and how could he say no?

“Get on all fours.” You flip over, arching your back, hanging your ass in the air for him. You hear the clink of his belt as he pulls down his trousers, watching from over your shoulder.

“I told you to take my dress off,” you remind him, lightening the mood a bit. You have to stifle back a moan as he spreads your ass, pulling you flush against the shape of his bulge, lowly moaning when he does. 

Jamal pauses for a moment. “Nah.” He pulls his boxers down, taking his cock in his hands, hard and throbbing, jerking himself off before aligning the tip with your pussy.

“Wanna fuck you in it.” 

He slides his cock up and down your slit before pushing into you in one long stroke. A long moan is drawn from your throat as your head drops, feeling him slowly stretch you out, stopping until his pelvis was flush with your ass. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, hearing Jamal whisper soft praises as he grips your hips, rolling his slowly to help. Once you do, he pulls back out, only living the tip in your cunt, before slamming back in and finding a rhythm.

“Shit,” you spit through a mix of moans and curses, feeling him push into you over, and over, and over. After a particulary rough snap of his hips, your elbows give out under you, causing you to bury your face in the sheets, arching your back harder.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” You hear Jamal breathe from behind you. His eyes are trained on where you’re taking him raw, seeing the glossy sheen coat his shaft, glowing underneath your bedroom lights.

His hands are rough where he gropes, alternating between bunching your dress up higher, spreading your ass and gripping your hips, slamming you against him harder. 

Jamal pulls you up to his chest, one hand loosely hanging around your neck. You can barely process the change of position until you feel his bare chest flush against your back.

His lips curl into a smirk, watching your mouth slightly open, the filthiest of sounds pouring out into his ears, spit welling in its corners. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head lulling on his shoulder.

“Don’t—ah—don’t stop, please,” you blabber, drunk on his hips snapping up into you. 

Jamal plants a featherlight kiss on your temple. “Never.” He plants another. “So good, so good for me.”

He moulds his lips against yours, a messy clash of teeth and tongue. You struggle to kiss back, only whining into his mouth.

The knot in your stomach grows tighter by the second, your moans getting increasingly higher pitched by the second, your face contorting in pleasure. You’re close, Jamal knows it too.

“I’m close, fuck.” You reach out to him behind you, trying to lock him in place so he doesn’t stop. Not like he was planning on it, anyway.

Jamal twitches inside you, and you know he’s close too. His thrusts get sloppier, more sporadic, chasing your high before his own.  “Cum for me, go on,” he coos, lips ghosting over your earlobe. 

He reaches around your torso, his fingers finding your clit, circling figure-eights. It’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you in waves, sending your thighs shaking. Jamal doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it all, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder, fingers still trained between your thighs. Jamal pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of being empty. You’re spent, chest heaving and sticky with sweat, but you still find the energy to turn around, facing him. He’s jerking himself off in his hands, his cock red and throbbing, begging for a release.

You look up at him with mischievous eyes, his own watching your every move. You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of him, sitting on your heels.

Jamal kneels high above you, groaning when he watches you push your tits together, inviting him closer. His head tips back when you stick your tongue out, kitten licking the tip of his cock, tasting the precum dripping from its head.

Strings of white liquid are painted across your chest as Jamal cums, shuddering. You feel some hit your chin, darting your tongue to get a taste, never breaking eye contact.

He cups your chin, pressing his lips onto yours, leaving chaste kisses. You both stay like that for a while, lazily making out, smiling against each other’s lips.

Jamal plants one final kiss before pulling away. “Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He walks in your bathroom, leaving with a towel and a water bottle he’d found somewhere not long after. 

You let him gently swipe the towel against your chest, his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. While you two sat in silence, it wasn’t an awkward one, far from it. It was comforting. It felt familiar, this domesticity. It felt natural.

You don’t say anything when he pulls you to lay on his chest. You don’t say anything when he pulls the blanket over you two, turning off the lights. You just focus on his heartbeat.

A throbbing headache has been your alarm these past few mornings, and today is no different.

The sunlight spills through the cracks in your curtains, bleeding through your shut eyelids. You slowly ease into consciousness, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

The first thing that hits you is the cold. A shiver runs through your body, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to you.

The second thing that hits you is your lack of clothes. You blink away the drowsiness, examining yourself, completely bare. Peculiar, but not unfamiliar.

The third thing that hits you is the weight on the opposite side of your bed when you yank the comforter. Your eyes widen at the sight of an undressed Jamal, blanket only covering so much, stirring awake next to you. His toned abs in full display, glowing golden in the sunlight.

It doesn’t take long for your brain to floor your memories of recollections from last night. You wince, face scrunching in disbelief as the images flashed in your head one by one.  What were you thinking?

You bend down to grab the first article of clothing you could find — Jamal’s shirt. Not ideal but it’ll do. You put it on to cover yourself, standing up with the plan of getting as far away from him as possible.

A strong grip on your arm stops your plans. 

Jamal calls your name, voice gruff and thick with the early morning. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sound.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, adoringly.

No. This is wrong. You can’t think of him that way, someone who’s supposed to be irrevocably off-limits — so you get right to the point.

“Jamal.” His eyebrows furrow at the sound of you calling his full name. You’re never in a good mood when you do. “This, this cant… we can’t…” You watch him look up at you like he was expecting this from a mile away. 

With one pull, he tugs you back in bed, causing you to sit on his lap, albeit not fully. You don’t want to run away from him, deep down you know you don’t, and he knows that too. 

“Why? You scared of Noah?” 

You’re not sure how to respond.

“This isn’t even, I mean, we’re not even…” you struggle to string the right words together.

Jamal cups your cheek and you melt into his touch. Your words say one thing but your body suggests another. 

“I like you, I really do. I know I didn’t get the chance to say it last night,” he assures. You feel your cheeks heat at the sudden confession. “I don’t want to see you with someone else. I don’t want to act like I’m perfectly fine when you bring up some other guy.” You look deep into his eyes with a look that says, me too. After last night you knew you and Jamal would never be the same, for better or for worse. You pick the former.

“And especially not Mathys, Jesus.” You chuckle, finally lightening up. “Out of all the people you wanted to use to make me jealous, you chose him. Blegh.”

The giggles leaving your chest are unabashed the second time around. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, and it sucked.” Jamal’s palm lets go of your face, dropping down to take your hand in his. He resumes to his original point. “I want this, okay? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you in my shirt every day,” he says while fumbling with the hem of his shirt hanging off your frame. 

“I want you.” 

You wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer, this time properly sitting on his lap. “Never took you for such a romantic, J.” 

He stifles in a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours before closing the gap. You’re finally his.

[seungkwanniee]

MY TEACHER !

pairings : nonidol!seokmin x fem!reder

genre : fluff fluff fluff that i'm gonna cry , situationship

warnings : mention of a minor injury , calling the kids 'little creatures'

wc : 1k

synopsis : your (almost) boyfriend!seokmin is a kindergarten teacher

an: i have many ideas writted down but if you want to request, feel free to do so !! Latest post flopped soo hard omg 😭 I really thought it was going to be big and interesting...

〔masterlist〕

you just hop off your car, adjusting the long skirt that falls softly on your legs while a bag sitted comfortably on your shoulder. You look straight, smiling at the sound of the joyfull kids laughing that can be already heard from the outside. Butterflies full your stomach when your thoughts go to Seokmin, your long term situationship. You've met him right here, when you was doing one of your walks meanwhile he was running behind a kid that was... escaping? You just catched the kid in time and, to thank you, he decided to take you to a bar date. You never lost contact since then, around six months ago, and now it was pretty common that you wait for him outside the kindergarten where he works.

You can't say that it was love at frist sigh. At least, for you it was like that. Sure, he was really handsome, but his personality was the thing that made you fall for him. He was joyfull, like a sunshine, his smile was so contagious, his jokes were a little cheesy, but somehow they always made you laugh. Maybe because they were coming from him, and you were so in love of Seokmin. But above all, he was good with kids and you LOVED kids, how you can't fall for a man like this?

For him, it was surely love at frist sight. When you catched the kid for him so effortlessy, he raised his head to look who was the angel who helped him and it was an angel for real. He needed to be quick and think about a way to not lost contact with you, so he just proposed the most stupid thing that was passing in his mind. It worked to, so...

《do want to enter and see the kids?》

you stared at the text maybe for too long. Seokmin knows that you have a soft spot for kids, but he never asked you such a thing. You was so excited but at the same time a little nervous. It was embarassing just entering and passing by all the coworkers in a place where you don't belong to.

《if you don't want to it's okay, i'll be to you asap》

you could already see his pout or upset expressions behind the screen. You took a little too long to answer back, and he was really really sensitive, especially when talking about his little creatures.

《dw, i'll come in five》

you was already outside the school, yes but, come on, you needed some time to find the courage to do it.

after adjusting your straight brown hair looking at your reflection throught the car window, you make your way into the school and fortunately, the way into the garden was more easier than you thought.

A little giggle comes out of your mouth when you spot seokmin sitting on the grass, with little creatures wandering around him. They were sticking things, you were still too far to get what, on his hands while he alternate his bright smile to his cute fake pout. Your heart skip a beat at the vision, seokmin and kids? the most beautiful and cute thing you could ever seen.

His lips still curled into a pout while he says something to the little boy messing with his hand fulled of colorful plasters, and when he finally gets to notice you, his lips changes into a smile.

"i got hurt badly" he stands up from his place, showing you the hand a little to birght now. "oh, really?" you raise your eyebrow playing along his overdrammatic behavior. His nod makes you smile, eyeing the kids looking at you curiosly. After all, you were still a stranger to them.

"say hi to my friend kids" oh, friends really?, nothing stops you from giving him a confused look, but immediatly melting at the sound of the noisy children greeting and waving with their little and puffy hands. "aw~, how cute. Hi~" you wave at them too.

"wait, you have a scratch here too. Let me..." you look below his lips, slightly touching his pale skin, where there was actually nothing. He smiles at your touch, letting you almost touch his lips with your thumb. You grab from the package the remaining plasters, attacking one to his face, "cute" you humble under your breath. When he was right about to say something, kids starts to grab his sleeve, jumping up and down with plasters on their tiny hands, probably wanting to full his face too.

"is she your girlfriend, teacher Seokmin?" he was sitting again on the grass, while the kids where all over his face. The view made your heart flutter: the golden hour was hitting his face so perfectly, while his eyes where shutted and his head leaning back. "can you two kiss?" the kid didn't even let him answer.

"who told you we are togheter?" he smiles at the kid, discreetly laying his eyes to your figure. You looked so perfect in his eyes: the sun kissing your pale skin, your big brown eyes sparkling because of the sun while the slightly wind makes your hair wave togheter with your long skirt, hiding your long legs. He always think about how lucky he was, having such a woman wrappend around his finger, by his side but still too shy and coward to ask her officially. Just by landing his eyes on you, makes him want to love you forever, to the moon and back, giving all of himself. It's so big that there aren't right words to describe it, it was so overwhelming that his chest feels almost heavy. Saying a stupid 'I love you' wasn't describing how his feeling for you are.

"because you look at her how my dad does with my mum!"

[chamomiletealeaf]

hear me out on this one it might be vanilla but imagine soap or ghost or price or konig i don’t care who is on deployment and you finally get them on the phone and it gets dirty and nasty real quick

This idea is so yummy with Soap 😮‍💨

warnings: voice kink, Johnny being a slut, phone sex, masturbation, switch! Johnny

Johnny was on deployment and he missed you so much. He's been gone for a few months now and he finally got some down time to call you for more than a quick few seconds on a payphone. When he got back to base, he went straight to his room to call you, practically skipping to his room in the barracks.

He dials your number on his phone and lays down on his bed on his back, waiting to hear the ring stop and your voice replace it.

"Hey Johnny." You say lovingly after barely three rings and he smiles.

"Hey bonnie." He says back, smiling even bigger than you.

"You just get back?" You ask and he nods, but then remembers you can't see him.

"Yeah." He says with an exhausted sigh.

"Aw honey you must be so tired." You coo at him through the phone and he feels his stomach flip.

weird, he thinks to himself.

"Yeah. Glad I can finally talk to you though. Never too tired for you lass." He says with a smile.

"You coming home soon baby?" You ask in your sweetest, softest voice, and Johnny holds back a whine.

what the fuck? He says in his head, confused as to why your voice is making him so damn needy like a stray dog.

"Yeah girlie, two more weeks." He says, reaching down to adjust his belt around his pants that seemed to get tighter since he started talking to you.

"Mm ok." You pout. "Gonna have a nice, hot, home cooked meal waiting for you when you get back. That sound good honey?" You ask in that same soft and sweet tone you have him panting at.

Johnny bucks his hips unconsciously at the sound of your voice coddling him through the phone and a little whimper escapes his lips.

"Y-yeah that sounds amazing bonnie." He says and you furrow your eyebrows at the stutter in his voice.

"You ok hun'?" You ask, concerned at why his tone changed all of a sudden.

Johnny unbuckles his pants and slips a hand inside his pants, slowly stroking himself over his boxers, precum making a damp spot in them.

"Yeah I'm doin' just fine dolly, just- keep talkin' to me." He says trying not to sound like he's jerking himself off, and you buy it.

"Ok well, today I went to the grocery store and I saw the cutest little puppy, literally the sweetest boy I've ever seen. Such a good puppy." You say the last part in a high pitched 'puppy voice' and Johnny's eyes roll to the back of his head and his cock twitches in his hands, imagining you saying those words to him, about him.

"Yeah?" Johnny says in a whisper "How- How good of a boy was he?" He asks and you furrow your brows again for a second, then you catch on.

"Oh he was the best boy. So good for me." You say with a smirk and you hear Johnny try to muffle a whine.

"Johnny?" You say so softly that if he wasn't so focused on your voice he wouldn't have heard it.

"Yeah bonnie." He responds exasperated.

"Are you.. jerking off right now?" You giggle.

"N-no." He lies terribly.

"Hm.. well if you were, I'd tell you to stop stroking yourself through your pants and pull it out for me." You say with a smirk.

Johnny's end goes silent for a bit, only the sound of a belt buckle clacking as he pulls his throbbing, leaking cock out of his pants, gently fisting himself.

"What else would you tell me to do bonnie?" He asks, almost begs actually and you clench your thighs together at his desperation.

"Tell me how much you miss me sweetheart." You tell him, smiling as you bite your fingernail, trying to hide the smile in your voice.

"Fuck baby, miss you so fuckin' much. Wish it was you jerkin' me instead of my fist." He says through dog-like pants, and you move your hand between your thighs and under your sleep shorts that were practically soaked through. Good thing you didn't wear panties underneath them so you can easily slip your hand down to play with your clit.

"Yeah? Miss you too honey. Can't wait for you to fuck me again." You whine desperately this time.

Johnny picks up on the change of your voice and knows you're playing with yourself and he takes advantage of your vulnerability.

"Yeah that's right sweetheart, rub that little cunny for me. Not as good as my fingers are they hm?" He says as he bucks up into his hand.

"Mm mm." You respond and he laughs.

"Fuck need to bury my face in ya' girlie. Miss that sweet little pussy."

Hearing each other's moans cause you both to get closer and closer to the edge, Johnny's cock leaking all over his hand and your pussy dripping all over your shorts.

"Come on bonnie lemme hear ya' moan my name." He says, fisting his cock faster and faster.

"Fuck Johnny, gonna cum." You whimper in that high pitched, soft little voice he loves hearing from you.

"Do it. Cum for me baby." He says and you squeak out a moan of his name while you cum in your little shorts on your living room couch soaking them.

Johnny hears you say his name over and over while you make a mess of yourself and your couch, and when you moan out a "fuck me like a good boy Johnny" he cums so hard he shoots cum on his chest.

You both pant into your phone mics, coming down from your highs.

After a second Johnny speaks.

"I can't wait to come home to you bonnie." He says after he catches his breath.

"I can't wait for you to come home to me." You say back and you both smile.

"Two more weeks." He says.

"Two more weeks." You reply.

And after you two say your goodbyes, I love you's, and goodnights, Johnny makes a mental note to talk to Price first thing in the morning about possibly making it back home to you a few days earlier than planned.

[metaliczz]

Charles Leclerc imagine

In which Charles gets jealous of how other men act towards you.

I haven't been active for the past month but I'm working on it. Things got very bad but I'm working my way through it. I've been thinking about new prompts for my writing. I might also start a book about Charles x reader. I've got a couple ideas in my mind. Anyways, enjoy :)

During the past seven days, you have been going out more because of the lack of presence of Charles. He had received tons of calls asking him to interview him, big brands wanted him for advertisements and even his own ice cream company needed some adjustments. Charles kept apologizing to you about how he wouldn't be able to be there for you as much as he used to. However, you said it was okay knowing that it hurt you inside. You hid your emotions to not make him worried and cancel all of those opportunities that had made his way to him.

You knew Charles would be back in about two days but you didn't stop going out. Almost every day you had been going to parties and events with your group of friends. As much as you hated being away from Charles, you had to admit that having fun with friends and attending events that always had a twist of actions to it was something you always liked. You liked the unpredictable and the wildness of it all.

"(Y/N), where are we going now?" Your friend asked, scrolling on an app that located nearby parties.

"Let's go wherever it's most crowded." You answered, getting ready.

"Awesome." She responded, looking at the information of the party with the most people there is.

A few knocks were heard at your front door and you quickly went downstairs to open it. As you expected, the rest of your friend group was there. You yelled of excitement and so did they all. You let them in and somehow, music started playing from your speaker.

"So, ladies, where are we going next huh?" One of your friends said.

"There's this party a couple minutes away and apparently there's gonna be a shit ton of people. I think around six hundred or something."

"SIX HUNDRED?! Girl we better run to that party as soon as possible. I need to get drunk and meet hot men."

You laughed and put your stuff away now that you were ready. You and your friends headed out to the party.

"This is AMAZING!" You exclaimed as you poured yourself another drink.

The music was loud and booming through your ears. There was a dance floor, which you took the opportunity to bust some moves. Your friends and some other men hyped you up as you kept laughing and drinking.

Once you sat back down at a table, a man came up to you. You looked at him and waited for him to speak.

"Hi." He said.

"Hey?" You answered.

"You have amazing moves, man. I haven't seen anyone like you before." He said as he sat down in front of you.

"Thanks! It's definitely the alcohol that's getting me like this." You replied as you started to laugh uncontrollably again.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"(Y/N), you?"

"Peter."

"Cool."

"Wanna get out of here?" Peter asked, waiting for you to agree.

You didn't say anything in return. A weird feeling covered your entire body. You didn't know what it was.

"Excuse me." You finally said, getting up.

You made your way to the bathroom which, luckily, was empty. You looked at yourself in the mirror and turned the cold water on. You put some cold water on the back of your neck and some on your face.

"(Y/N)! Come out!" One of your friends practically yelled.

"Okay!" You opened the door.

Your friend didn't even have time to tell you what was going on before you saw him. Charles was there, yelling at the man that had approached you a few minutes ago. You were so confused. He was gone for business purposes and now there he was.

"Charles! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. I cancelled an appointment because I wanted to be with you."

"How did you find me? I didn't tell you I was here."

"Your location was on." He murmured.

"What the hell is going on here?" The other man, Peter, asked.

"You talked to my girlfriend, that's what's going on here." Charles answered, his voice loud and sharp.

"Okay, now. Let's get out of here." You said and grabbed Charles' arm, pulling him away.

"You're too drunk (Y/N). Let me take care of you." Charles said, his voice softening. He picked you up and took you to his car. He carefully put you in it and drove you to his place.

When you got to his place, Charles took your heels off for you and placed you in his bed. He changed you into his clothes and took the rest of your makeup off. A few hours later, you got more sober.

"Charles..."

"It's okay chérie." (darling)

"I barely remember anything of what happened."

"There was this guy that approached you."

"Right."

"I don't like how other men look at you. I hate it. You're so beautiful." Charles said, getting next to you in his bed and pulling you closer to him.

Your head was in his chest. His hand on the back of your head and the other one around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his back, it being too big for your arms to wrap around fully around it.

Charles kept giving you small kisses on your head and on your face. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. His kisses trailed down to your neck and then back up to your face again. He played with your hair as he kept telling you how much he loved you and how he was sorry he wasn't there for you this week. He said he was sorry for letting that other man approach you at the party. He told you he was sorry about everything, then made sure to kiss you multiple times again. Charles was obsessed with you. He always needed you by his side. You were his reason to keep going and never give up on life.