#idk i'm living laughing loving over here

[chaos0pikachu]

Did you see the ending of Last Twilight? What did you think of it?

Personally I tuned into LT for 1 episode and it just didn't catch me at all but I'm nosy, so I've been reading the posts that cross my dash. I won't say I know everything but from the reactions of the people who have watched it - it's clear it's not good.

Then I came across a post that was smt like: We don't trust Jojo. We can't trust Aof smt smt. And that got me thinking.

You've said you don't like GMMTV shows, iirc. That they are more a product being sold than a story being told. And that's what I remembered reading the above post.

I also realized the last GMMTV BL to hold my interest was The Eclipse and even that went messy towards the end. Somehow GMMTV continues to make bad shows and continues to keep getting praise for it(until people realize this is a shit show from the get go). Though I am glad that people are recognizing how well made the BLs from other companies are. I think part of it has to do with being palatable. Even at it's worst Only Friends was nowhere near horny enough, like many other BLs, and that was GMMTV's horniest show. Also they put their stuff out on YouTube which makes it accessible to everyone. That ease / lack of barrier to entry means a majority of the fandom, especially new fans would end up at GMMTV. Then there is the fact that these shows just keep getting recommended. If someone made a shows to watch list - some GMMTV show is on there with a warning 'badly done ending'.

That makes me think GMMTV has gotten cocky. They want to pump out as much as they can and suck as much money as they can from the fans. I get running a business but it's detrimental to the company in the long run when none of it's BLs in a whole year managed to stick the landing. Perhaps they just don't care. It reminds me of corruption. Think of it in a metaphorical way. It's a short term solution that creates some money but will create long term problems. (Well I don't think GMMTV will be affected that much. It's just an interesting thought.)

So what are your thoughts?

~ Fork Around

omg is hating gmmtv shows becoming ✨my brand✨ cause that would be so fucking funny

for home players I don't actually "hate" gmmtv or the studios shows I just think fandom, at large, overhypes them to fuck when in reality all the ones I've watched I've found them to be thoroughly mediocre in regards to both narrative and film making.

To answer your first question, no I didn't watch Last Twilight, not out of any moral~~~ reason or whatever the hell, just cause I didn't want to. It didn't look interesting or appealing to me so I didn't bother. I'm picky about what things I watch b/c I'm hella fucking lazy lol am I gonna spend 12+ hours watching a mid show from gmmtv or am I gonna spend that same amount of time watching like, Marry My Husband? The latter, I'm choosing the latter. Hell, I'd rather watch Wing Chun which has less budget than Last Twilight does b/c Michelle Yeoh even at her earliest can act circles - also bonus Donnie Yen as her love interest!! - around any actor at gmmtv.

God people are gonna now think I think all the gmmtv actors can't act, I don't think that, the ones I've seen range from bad, to fine, to good. Calm down I'm not after your faves, and I can only name like four dudes that are signed at gmmtv anyway.

Then I came across a post that was smt like: We don't trust Jojo. We can't trust Aof smt smt. And that got me thinking.

man the folks in fandom who keep deifying directors should like, stop. Y'all are just setting yourselves up for disappointment. It's giving Joss Whedon's fanbase for real. Like Spielberg directed Schindler's List and Ready Player One okay? No one director bats a thousand every round.

Somehow GMMTV continues to make bad shows and continues to keep getting praise for it(until people realize this is a shit show from the get go). [...] I think part of it has to do with being palatable. Even at it's worst Only Friends was nowhere near horny enough, like many other BLs, and that was GMMTV's horniest show. Also they put their stuff out on YouTube which makes it accessible to everyone. That ease / lack of barrier to entry means a majority of the fandom, especially new fans would end up at GMMTV. Then there is the fact that these shows just keep getting recommended. If someone made a shows to watch list - some GMMTV show is on there with a warning 'badly done ending'.

Okay so like, I've had a lot of thoughts about this in general since gmmtv shows do make up a mass majority of The BL Fandom in general.

The way I would break this down is into factors:

Parasocial relationships (between the audience and actors)

Palatable Brand (queerness packaged in a non-threatening and non-challenging way with simple, low stakes stories typically about acceptance, and romance aka squeecore romances)

Accessibility (being available on youtube for free)

Easily consumable (b/c the shows are low stakes and non-challenging they're really easy binge watches, and since gmmtv puts out like 50 of these things a year fans just move on to the next one really quickly. Have y'all noticed that there's like, a general lack of fan works in BL fandom? It's usually just weekly episode meta posts and weekly gifsets but not a ton of fan art and fanfic is made for these shows)

Consuming vs Engaging (a trend I see in general in regards to BL fandom is this seemingly need to watch like as many BL shows as possible even moving on as quickly as possible to the next show instead of sitting with the show and building a community around said show, the only exceptions I've really seen to this is kinnporsche and slightly love in the air & bad buddy)

I'm gonna break these things down further underneath the cut:

Parasocial Relationships

"Parasocial relationships are one-sided relationships, where one person extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, is completely unaware of the other’s existence. Parasocial relationships are most common with celebrities, organizations (such as sports teams) or television stars." (source)

Gmmtv is really, really good at creating para-social relationships between the audience and their actors. How many people were willing to give Ray the benefit of the doubt and write sad woobie meta after one singular episode of Only Friends simply b/c Khao was playing the char? How many people were rooting for SandRay and TopMew simply b/c they liked FirstKhao and ForceBook?

Not everyone, obviously, but from my observations on tumblr, twitter, reddit, and youtube, a fuckton did this. Even unintentionally, I saw fans do this. Like ignoring Ray calling Sand a whore, or just...everything about the clusterfuck that was Top and Mew's relationship. Double standards were abound in Only Friends fandom when it came to how fandom treated chars like Mew, Ray and even Sand (especially Ray) in comparison to Boston. Not gonna get into that here - wait for the podcast episode to drop y'all - but it's an example.

Branded couples are gmmtv's bread and butter when it comes to their BL. They sell sticker sheets and postcard packets like these actors are kpop idols. The gmmtv house party thing or whatever trends on twitter. The studio directly encourages fans to grow attached to their actors specifically so they foster a para-social attachment so they can sell you the next six ForceBook, or OffGun or whoever show with the same or slightly different concept - this time they're in an office au! this time they're in a coffee shop au! - its just RPF at this point with extra steps. Not everyone~ obviously but a good chunk of people watched Dangerous Romance b/c they liked Perth and whoever his partner is. A lot of people checked out Cooking Crush b/c of OffGun.

I'm not saying this is a "bad" thing, one of the reasons I'm interested in watching Abigail is b/c of Melissa Barrera. So like I do get it, but as much as I enjoy Melissa her character in Abigail might be like, badly written. Who knows. I really enjoy Angie Jolie but lord knows she's had some awful roles and films.

Because of this emphasis on branded couples and para-social relationships, this effects the quality of the story b/c not every actor they pick for whichever show is the right actor. Earth was the wrong actor to play Jim in Moonlight Chicken, he just was. When Wen says he "likes old people" or someone makes a boomer joke about Jim I'm like that's a 29 yr old man. It takes me directly out of the story. It's no different than Jennifer Lawance playing a 40+ yr old woman in American Hustle at like 26. It's ridiculous.

Why NOT pair Mix up with an older actor who could also better play a world weary older man? Because it's not about The Story, it's about how much merch gmmtv can sell you or how many tickets they can sell to an EarthMix fan meet.

Palatable Brand/Easily Consumable

Gonna get myself in trouble, look gmmtv is a mix of Disney for gays and CW for gays. All the shows from gmmtv I've watched have 1) followed a very basic romance arc throughline, 2) been overall non-challenging in terms of narrative ideas or risks and 3) are straightforward in both film making style and narrative direction.

I have not watched every single gmmtv show nor will I cause again I am fucking lazy, but out of the ones I have watched this is how I feel about them.

Their shows tend to be about self-acceptance and romance. Which is FINE. I'm not saying this is a bad thing!! It's just boring after the 65th show about the subject. Especially when gmmtv doesn't care enough to cast actors that are right for the roles and give their crew a second light or five more nickels to the budget.

Sorry but 2gether is a poorly filmed show. 1000 Stars, imo, is thoroughly overhyped for how poorly paced it is, and how thin the actual story is (wait for the podcast ep on THAT lmao)

But these shows are comfortable and comforting. This is a neutral statement. You can like squeecore shows all you want I'm just saying that's part of the mass appeal of them. They're like the MCU films, they suggest the ideas of leftish politics just enough but don't really say anything further then that. And at times even enforce some harmful rhetoric - like the slut shaming in only friends and this ending to last twilight. They're just comfortable, easy shows that people can watch First and Khao in, enjoy their scenes, and then immediately move on to the next First and Khao show - hope they play street racers next! - without much of a thought.

Because these shows are pretty "safe" in terms of the depiction of queerness and sex it also makes them more palatable to mass recommend. When people make lists for what to show non-BL watches I usually see a lot of these "palatable" shows, stuff with straightforward romances, a couple kisses, fade-to-black sex. It's less based on genre preferences and more based on "what's the least scary thing we can recommend to folks". You see ppl do this with anime too. Everything gets lumped together under the sub-genre which is a shame (and also feels a bit xenophobic but I ain't getting into that).

But like, if I knew my friend was into fantasy gay shit I'd recommend them like, The Sign for live action, Drug and Drop for manga, Revolutionary Girl Utena for anime, Word of Honor and/or Legend of Yunze for (censored but still super gay) live action. I haven't read any fantasy bl/gl manwha yet so drop recs if y'all have some.

Accessibility

This one is pretty self-explanatory. We've seen how accessibility can increase a shows reach from Avatar getting a resurgence when it appeared on Netflix, where as, a show like Playboyy is gonna have a smaller reach since it's mainly available on streaming platforms like Gaga.

Consuming vs Engaging

gmmtv puts out the most Thai BLs period. This is just a fact of the industry. When you put out that much the quality of your media is going to go down - again we saw this with Disney regarding Star Wars and the MCU - because the goal is to sell merch not the stories. (Disney gets most of their sales via their parks and merch not their box office returns).

I see a lot of Big BL Blogs recommending gmmtv shows all the time, and I see a lot of these blogs and the fandom at large consuming these shows rather than engaging with said show. It becomes more of a challenge to watch 49 BLs, writing a quick meta post/review on them, and then moving on to the next one. There's a lack of higher end engagement, people aren't sitting with these shows and exploring the nooks of them. The empty spaces, the potential.

Probably b/c there's not a lot TO explore in regards to gmmtv shows, they all end pretty definitively. The couple goes through their couple journey, end up together, usually with marriage or an engagement, either way the promise of being together forever. Which is, again, fine, there's just not a lot of meat there to explore further.

This isn't specific to gmmtv shows - Domundi's shows come to mind regarding this too like Naughty Babe ends very definitively - but people just move on to the next one. They write episode-to-episode meta, end of show meta/recaps, make some gifs, move on to the next thing. It doesn't help that a lot of characters in gmmtv shows are thin and their worlds are empty.

But I think what attracts people is the constant churn of content. gmmtv shows are like tiktok videos, you scroll, watch, scroll to the next. Keep things quick and moving.

Where is the BL fanfic???

Moonlight Chicken only has 389 once you remove 1000 Stars, My School President, and Thai RPF works. Only Friends has 809 but only after also removing Only Friends RPF, Thai Actor RPF, 1000 Stars, The Eclipse, The Eclipse RPF, and Moonlight Chicken. 1000 Stars only has 292 once you remove similar crossovers (and a lot of RPF). My School President is down to 609 fics once you get rid of all the RPF and crossovers.

For comparison, kinnporsche has 11,444 fics even with all the RPF and crossovers removed.

I'm losing steam here at the end. These are a lot of thoughts, and I know they're not 100% articulate. These are just some general feelings and observations regarding gmmtv shows and fandom.

I'm NOT saying all~~~~ gmmtv show "bad" - though most I do think on a technical level are filmed very averagely with only MLC and Not Me breaking any molds - nor is anyone "wrong" or "bad" for liking idk Cooking Crush or Cherry Magic. I don't care like what you like bro.

I do think fandom overall overhypes gmmtv shows for a lot of factors - whether it's b/c they like the actors and feel that para-social pull towards them, or b/c they just like the squeecore comfort of these shows, or some mix of both - I think fandom would have an easier time if they just treated gmmtv shows are they are - average.

It's fine to be average and made for mass consumption. I like cheetos too dude. These shows don't have to be the peak of queer cinema to be valid, or for you to be "valid" for liking them. Why do any of us need to be "valid" in terms of the media we engage with? Who fucking cares? Like what you like, it doesn't have to be The Best Thing To Ever Gay for you to be valid for liking it. It doesn't have to "be important" either it can be gushers or twizzlers eat your snacks and enjoy life.

Just stop telling me it's a 4 star steak dinner or getting mad when you're charged 60 dollars for gushers.

[lorephobic]

idk how to even like. put this pain into words and i would normally vent about this shit on twitter, but the person its about follows me on there so like. anybody have skills for coping with the crushing realization that the person u love most in this world and have built ur life around sees ur current situation together as a temporary hurdle that's preventing them from their truest and happiest self which. is separate from u entirely? anyone know how to deal with this?

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[archangeldyke-all]

I miss CEO Sevika :(

What about Reader and Sevika going to...idk a dinner party/charity event with multiple companies in attendance. Sevika is one of the speakers for the night and while she's nervous, she knocks it out of the park. Meanwhile Reader is like "wow my wife is such a fucking boss and so hot for doing that on stage, I can't NOT suck her off and get fucked in a random, out of the way bathroom right afterwards."

i was thinking about this ask the entire time she was up there by vander's statue giving her speech. my sweet baby.

men and minors dni

sometimes, you forget just how important sevika's work is. most days you're stuck in your office together, making phone calls and signing documents.

but it's nights like this, when sevika's company has its annual ball, that you're hit with how much sevika does for the community.

the company built on the idea of giving low income communities low interest loans to build businesses and homes. there're several neighborhoods and families that you know personally that have had their lives transformed by sevika's work. but it's not just that.

it's parks built on the company's dime, community centers and pools and basketball courts sponsored by sevika herself. it's the team of social workers and accountants sevika's carefully hired over the years, who make sure that your clients are trained in financial literacy so they don't fall through the cracks. it's underfunded public schools-- the schools you went to as a kid-- being sent busload after busload of books and computers and supplies from your wife. it's medical bills being paid off by a mysterious, 'anonymous' source--the chickenscratch on the checks all matching your wife's.

and nights like this, with each lead team member of all the departments giving presentations of the differences they've made in the community this year, where it really hits you how incredible your wife is.

your poor wife. sevika's currently on the brink of passing out from her nerves, a glass of whiskey shakily clutched in her palms as she waits behind the stage. "baby." you coo, reaching up to cup her face.

sevika winces and pouts in your hold. "i hate public speaking." she whines. you chuckle.

"i know, love." you sigh. you'd give this speech for her if you could-- but it's kinda a requirement that the ceo speak at these big events. "it's just five minutes, talk about the good you've done this year, get some claps, get some laughs, then we can bail." you promise her.

sevika pouts even more, slouching down against you. "you remember the first time we put one of these shitshows on?" she asks.

you giggle and nod.

your second year working for sevika, a few months into dating, and the company had the first of it's now notorious annual balls. of course, back then it wasn't quite as sophisticated as today's is, but it was pretty memorable. after her speech (which she nailed, because despite how much she hates it sevika is good at talking) sevika ran off the stage, high on the applause she'd received, and practically leapt into your arms where you stood backstage. "fuck i can't believe i did that." she whispered against your scalp. "and they liked it!" she laughs.

you giggled and kissed her cheek. "course they liked it, you're very easy to like."

and then sevika said the words you'd been dying to hear her say, the words you were trying desprately to keep inside your throat until she was ready. "i couldn't've done it without you, y'know." she whispered. your smile got softer, and sevika leaned impossibly closer to you. "you kinda scare the shit outta me and... i think i'm in love with you."

you had just grinned and kissed her, mumbling a teasing "you think or you know?" against her lips.

and here you are, nearly ten years later, on the same little patch of floor backstage of your favorite venue, smiling up at your wife.

"course i remember, baby. one of the best moments in my life. right up there with meeting you 'n marrying you. think it'll be in the little montage that flashes before my eyes once i die." you say, giggling.

sevika smiles sweetly and kisses you. "yeah, me too." she whispers.

you hold her for a moment, hoping the touch will help her relax a bit, both of you swaying gently in your dark little corner as you wait for seamus to finish his speech and introduce sevika. "you're gonna do amazing, y'know. you do every year."

"ugh. i know." sevika huffs against you. you giggle.

"so then why are you so worried?" you ask. sevika shrugs against you.

"just. 's a lotta people. and i like when you baby me." she says.

you burst into laughter just as the audience on the other side of the stage bursts into applause. sevika groans, and you give her one last good squeeze and a smooch to her cheek before pushing her toward the stage. "go ahead baby. you got this." you encourage her. sevika smiles shyly at you, and you curse. "shit, sev, wait! i left a kiss mark on your cheek!" you squeak, scrambling to grab her wrist and wipe off the lipstick that must've transferred from her lips to your own, then onto her cheek.

sevika ducks out of her hold, though, her smile only growing. "good. let 'em see it." she says, winking at you before ducking under a curtain and out onto the stage.

the crowd bursts into applause at her appearance, and your heart melts as her words sink in.

she's such a fucking sap. you love her so much you think you might explode.

she nails it, because of course she does. by the time she walks back off stage, there are literally people chanting her name, like she's a rockstar or something.

you intend to tease her about it, but then you see her and her sweet shy smile, your very obvious kiss mark on her cheek, and her hands nervously clutching her note cards, and something ravenous courses through your bloodstream.

you nearly tackle her to the floor as you launch forward to kiss her. sevika gasps, and her notecards go flying as her hands reach up to hold you tight. fuck you love her. she's the most incredible woman you've ever met.

"sev." you whisper between kisses you can't stop pressing to her skin. "sevika."

"y-yeah?" she asks, her voice squeaky and excited.

"can i blow you in the bathroom, please?" you ask. "want you so fuckin' bad."

sevika shivers full bodied and lets out a shudder before she grabs your wrist and starts sprinting toward the bathroom. you cackle the entire way.

your favorite thing about this venue is that they have plenty of single stall bathrooms. you and sevika have used this feature to your convenience many times over the years.

sevika's already rock hard in her trousers by the time you lock the door and pin her to the wall. she's clawing at you, whimpering as she tries to catch your lips in a kiss. you giggle, cupping her jaw and kissing her soundly, shoving your tongue in her mouth to calm her down a bit.

sevika sighs heavily, and you pull away, gasping a breath before dropping to your knees.

"fuck. i'm not gonna last, baby, fuck." sevika whines as you paw at her pants. you giggle.

"you better. want you to cum inside my cunt, love." you say.

sevika makes a pained noise, and her dick jumps in her boxers. you laugh. "you better touch yourself while you're suckin' me then." she says. "want you to cum with me."

it's your turn to shiver. you claw at her boxers, a little growl escaping you when her cock's finally revealed to you. "fuck." you grunt, before leaning forward and just pressing your face against her cock.

sevika sighs dreamily, reaching down to cup your face as you nuzzle her dick. "so pretty on your knees." she whispers. you smile up at her. "lemme see you touch yourself." sevika requests. you shove a hand down your waistband, rubbing your wet clit with your fingers as you rub your face against her length. "that's it, baby. fuck. now put your mouth on me, love."

you're needy for her, so needy that you take a little too much of her at once, gagging loudly on her cock.

sevika moans at the feeling then laughs at the embarrassment on your face when you pull back and catch your breath before trying again.

"don' laugh at me." you pout, spitting on her dick and jerking her while you blink back your tears.

"'s just cute baby. so fuckin' needy for me you choke yourself on it." she sighs.

you shiver a little. you can't really deny that. "you did amazing, by the way." you whisper. "you always do."

sevika's shoulders scrunch up to her ears, and her eyes dart away from yours. you giggle. "shush. you aren't supposed to be talking right now."

you laugh and kiss her wrist, then try again, taking her back in your mouth and slowly working down her cock.

sevika melts against the wall behind her, and her eyes fly back to yours. you hum around her and she groans. "shit, i'm not gonna last, baby, fuck." sevika whines as she starts thrusting into her mouth.

drool is trailing down your chin and into a puddle on the floor, and when sevika's thigh starts shaking you sink two fingers into your cunt, getting ready to take her.

"fuck, i love you." sevika whines. "i love you so much, baby, love your fuckin' mouth, love fuckin' your mouth--" she cuts herself off with a little giggle, and then she groans. "off-- off-- pull off baby, i'm gonnahh!" sevika shudders as you pull away right before her orgasm. she glares down at you, and you giggle, kissing her clothed thigh. "get up here." she growls, tugging you to your feet and roughly shoving you back against the sink.

you grin, shimmying out of your pants with sevika's help, kissing her anywhere you can reach as she hauls you up.

"you ready for me?" she asks, rubbing her cock against your soaked folds. you whine and nod.

"been ready for you since you put that suit on." you tease.

sevika just chuckles and pushes in, both of you groaning at the feeling.

"oh fuck, please tell me you're close." sevika whines, ducking down to bite at your neck as she starts hammering into you.

your hand flies to your clit, rubbing quick little circles against it in time with her thrusts. "s-so close." you whimper.

sevika shivers at your answer, then lifts up to kiss you on the lips. "i love you so much." she whispers.

"p-please cum inside me, sev, wanna make you feel good."

"y-you always do baby, fuck!" she shouts as she fills you up, cumming and shivering against you.

you grin, satisfaction and pleasure filling you equally until you're falling apart around her, laughing and moaning as you pull sevika to your chest.

"you really did do amazing, you know." you sigh after you catch your breath.

sevika smiles against you. "i know. practiced really hard last night, my wife finds it sexy when i give speeches."

"your wife finds it sexy when you do anything, love." you correct her. she grins.

"can we go home now?" she asks.

you giggle and nod. "kinda have to babe. my shirts covered in drool, and i'm sure we got cum somewhere on your pants or something." you say.

sevika cackles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

[antidesire]

specialize in havin' fun. antidesire

disclaimer, 18+ only. f!reader x logan howlett, logan is ancient so obvi age gap? idk who this is for, what am i doing? think im the dick-sucking writer, i seem to always write about it. no established relationship, reader and logan fool around but reader is head over heels for him. this is just porn, I didn't intend to write logan so rough I think I went off the rails. roughness, a lil non-con??? forcefulness, oral m! receiving, boot.. fucking >:), saliva, desperate!reader, pet names, hair pulling, I haven't written in so long I forgot how to tag, lmk if I miss anything, sorry this is garbage babe.

reblogging, interacting and sending feedback is always much appreciated, requests are open !! ♡

logan's boots hit the stony pavement with a thud, leg swinging over the body of his motorcycle, propping it up diligently. what a fucking day, with a sharp inhale, he tried to shrug off any lingering thoughts that were worming around his brain.

your apartment was a humble and homely one, sure, sometimes the water would either scald you or, leave you falling on your ass when it blasted you with an ice-cold wake-up call, but you had decent neighbours, ones that didn't pry, or make a lot of noise, lot's of privacy, logan liked that, though he'd put up with anything for a night with you.

though this habit of leaving your door unlatched because you expected him, was something he didn't want to put up with, had he not taught you better?

"told you not to do that.." logan mummers under his breath, lord knows any fucker that tried to creep into the naively sweet girl's apartment, is one dead fucker.

pushing the door open, he was greeted with the familiar warmth of the living room, a chiffon scarf with tassels draped over the lamp on the tableside, drenching the room in tranquillity, candlelight flickering to compliment the dimly lit ambiance, he almost slammed the front door shut, as though the outside would taint it if it got too long of a look.

like a domino effect, just the click of the door scrambled you to your feet, tripping over the blanket thrown over your shoulders, "logan!" your hush whisper sounded just as excited as every other time he walked through the door, as though it was a script you followed.

"hey bab- ouh," logan huffed out, your head smacking against his chest first, your arms following in quick succession, squeezing tightly around his chest, "one day you're gonna give yourself a concussion doin' that."

muffled laughs vibrated against his chest. when you breathed in you could smell the gasoline on his clothing, and that cologne he wore, smelt earthy, woody, and a little citrus too.

impatient as always when it came to overtaking all your senses with the man you were enamored with, your fingers find the bulkiest part of logan's arms, not nearly enough length on them to get close to fully engulfing the meaty muscle of them, you squeezed and forced them both around your upper waist, encouraging him to hold you tighter, you wanted to feel light-headed with him.

if you could see the soppy smile that stretched on his face, eyes wrinkled with delight, you would've pounced further on him, "how do you do it?" your head raised at his question, chin digging uncomfortably into his sternum, he continues, "exist when i'm not here for you to love up on me?" logan's fingers tapped up your back, under the shirt of his you were adorned in, the blanket you had over you, long forgotten about.

your cheeks puffed out and lips parted, but only an exhale left them. you quickly shook your head, only nudging into him for more comfort.

“c’mere,” it was quite comical because any closer would’ve been impossible, though you craved it, with a push under your chin, logan leaned down, and without another beat he pushed his lips to yours, his thumb, followed by a trickling of his fingers trailing downwards along your neck, resting his grip mindfully there, as though the kiss hadn’t dazed you enough.

hoo boy, you were easy.

logan had years on him- years was an understatement, and you, this doe-eyed girl, hopelessly head over heels to please him, it was dangerous, logan felt guilty, soiling such a deer.

it was perverse.

it was perverse when he first rammed into you and you choked out the cutest little sob he had ever heard, eyes flooding with fat tears, he had tensed himself, so much restraint it took out of him to even think about pulling out after all the effort it took to push his cock inside you, you’d noticed and in a bit of a panic, “no- nonono.” your legs raised up and around his hips, the heels of your feet pushing against his back, “keep— hngh, stay, can do it.. i can do it.” your breath was so unsteady, “please.” and who was he to deny such a brave girl?

and now when he felt your lips part, trying to sloppily catch up with his own, fingers fumbling awkwardly at the lower hem of his raggedy white tank top, it was perverse.

it didn’t have to go like this every time, but it did, it got out of control, and fast, every single damn time.

logan's beard was dark, mostly, with little flecks of grey if you looked close enough. it scratched your pretty face deliciously when you pushed up further into the kiss, your hands exposing his tanned midriff, wandering upward to his chest, covered in coarse hair, you squeezed his flesh under your greedy fingertips every time you grazed over his waist.

the last thing logan would ever tell you to do was slow down, as much as he reveled in control, seeing you like this, your thoughts at the back of your mind, all action and no consequence, just what feels good, it was euphoric for him.

his nose prodded against yours as his tongue invaded your mouth, the sound of wet lips smacking and breaths hitching, you only let up when a sharp twinge of pain jolted at your scalp, logan's grip from your neck had moved up toward your hair, a bunched handful that arched your body delightfully against his own.

just sometimes, he'd have to nod you in a direction, when you got all fuzzy in the head for him you would've been feeling up on him with your tongue down his throat until your knee's buckled- just a little nod.

with another tug, you let logan maneuver you to the floor, not so gracefully when your knees thudded against the wood, but you didn't flinch, making quick work of his leather belt, the thing was heavy, a big brass oval buckle being the obstacle between him being down your throat already.

logan ever so kindly helped when he tugged the rest of the belt through the loops, it clattering to the ground beside his boots, next came the pop of his button and a quick push of the zipper downwards, flickering his eyes to where you were sitting, knees squashed underneath you, palms on each side of his thighs, and big pupils ghosting over his fingers.

"look at me baby." his thumb prodded at your bottom lip, inviting it to slip past and rest on your tongue, your eyes blinking up at logan, and your head tilting a little when your fingers scrunched the denim of his jeans.

his thumb pushed against your tongue and his finger hooked under your chin, pulling you into him until your cheek smushed into his abdomen and he retracted his hand, pushing his strained cock against your mouth.

you darted your tongue out and felt the texture of his briefs against it, eager fingers nudging the elastic down just enough to get him out of the fabric, barely letting his cock twitch as it met the air, a line of open-mouthed kisses trailing from the underside of his cock, hazily trailing the vein your tongue searched for, the one that leads straight up to his tip.

“s’like you’re drunk when you get like this,” logan hums, his grip on your hair was loose now, you made the prettiest distraction he’d ever laid eyes on, his thighs clenched and he twitched against your mouth again, already shallowly fucking up against your lips, “you remember last time? gotta take it easy, baby.”

last time, was partly logan’s fault, far too carried away in the warmth and slippery slick of your mouth that he had forgotten how big he was, and how small you were, how small your mouth was, it was an easy mistake when you always took anything he threw at you so sweetly, even if it ended with you gagging so uncontrollably, you almost threw up, oops.

your skin warmed out of humiliation at the gentle reminder, hastily leaning up on your knees, either of your legs sprawled out beside you when you reached up to hook both of your fingers in either side of his belt loops on his jeans, a steady handle now you opened your sticky-glossed lips and pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, that familiar ache in your jaw not tearing down your confidence, but fuck, he was big and thick.

he tasted salty and he felt heavy in your mouth when you shoved more of him past your lips, shocks of hot lust pulsing straight between your legs whenever you heard the man above you even so much as sigh.

here he was, not even five footsteps into the room, with his pretty little thing kneeling before him as though he was a deity you praised, and devoted yourself to, in truth further condemning yourself with a life of sin, much to the both of your pleasures.

your head bobbed, and every so often you'd pull your head upward and curl your tongue around the red-hot tip of him, decorating him with sticky kisses, before he got a little too riled and there came that pulse of pain in your scalp again.

"that's very cute," the mewl that sounded in your throat was buried as soon as he pushed on the back of your head, and stuffed his cock down your throat, "i said take it fucking easy, but don't push your luck sweetheart."

your eyes almost bulged when you felt the tip of his boot nudge in between your legs, awkwardly bouncing until you feel it slip underneath you, flush against your aching warmth, "ffu-" you choked out, a stray fat tear trickling down your puffed out cheeks, mixing in the mess of saliva that pushes past your lips when logan keeps fucking up into your mouth.

"sshush, shsh." he coos out, his fingers that were previously tangled into your hair moving to your cheek, wiping at your sweet little tear, "I got you, baby, relax." his voice was as smooth as honey, and you took a second to still yourself, unclenching your jaw, as much as you could whilst he was rammed into your throat impatiently, exhaling out of your nose and hollowing your cheeks, taking a stronger grip on the hoops of his belt, for your own sanity because the way he tilted the tip of his boot up against your pussy was wickedly evil.

the thin layer of your short shorts did little to help you, you'd spoiled them as soon as his lips meshed with yours earlier.

another inhale,

exhale,

you managed to slide your mouth down much more fluidly this time, even tugging him flush against you, until the hairs at the base of him tickled your nose, you tried your best to pay no attention to the way logan had his boot in between your legs, no, no attention to the way your hips had a mind of their own, swaying against the hard material, your clit bumping deliciously every time you breathed him in, and raised your head and letting it fall in a rhythm.

the sounds that parted from logan's lips were otherworldly, his timbre was guttural and he got increasingly vocal, "fuhhck, mm," logan's brow bone had wrinkled, bliss evident, even in the way his head tilts to watch more darling little tears push past your eyes, "wish you'd greet me like this every day, ah, ah!" he hissed out, the muscles in his thighs tensing when you jolt him forward by the loops in his denim jeans, and he hits the back of your damn throat, and you take it.

cocky, that’s what you were being, and he loved every single drop of it, “gonna be a good little girl, make me cum, mm? yeah?” logan hums, feeling you squeeze his legs in approval.

good little girl,

if there were any three words to put together to make you putty in logan howlett’s hands, it was those.

your little sobs were more evident every time you lifted your head to pay some sweet attention to his tip, collecting the dribbles of sticky precum at the tip of him, rutting yourself against his boot which didn’t fly by logan’s head- no matter how enamored he was with his dick down your throat, “desperate for me to ruin every single bit of you, have a little more respect for yourself sweetheart.” he chuckled out, cruel.

if you weren’t so full of him, your senses screaming loganloganlogan, you would’ve said something, you would’ve scowled at least.

“you’re so pretty like this, let me fuck your throat yeah? you want that?” it wasn’t a question, logan’s rough hands settled on either side of your head and not missing a beat, he was thrusting into your mouth, forcefully, and hard.

his grip was stable, far too strong for you to do anything, anything but your arms flailing and clawing up at his chest, even tearing a hole in his white undershirt that bunched up under his arms.

too much. your brain screeched in panic, but your body betrayed you, helplessly fucking yourself against his boot with your thighs squashed on either side, and holy fuck, you were cumming, your puffy clit rubbing perfectly, and the lack of air did something so euphoric, it was all so wrong, but it could only be right when your body pulsed with pleasure so overwhelmingly you could do nothing but trust him, and let those fat crocodile tears stream down your face.

“sh-shit, did you just cum?” he laughs, he fucking laughs, “ahnngn, that’s so sexy.” logan was losing it, his fingertips pressed into the plush of your cheeks, hips getting sloppy as he neared his high.

one, two, three more thrusts, stuffing himself into your mouth and he is cumming for what feels like an eternity, hot and sticky fluid gushing into your mouth and spilling past your lips, dripping onto your thighs.

he lets up and eases out of your mouth when he squeezes the rest of his spend onto your tongue, gesturing with a nod of his head, “there’s my sweet girl.” you swallow, and it hurts, the strain in your throat, in your jaw, between your legs, every inch of you feels used.

“thank you, lo.” you barely scratch out, knees trembling when you lean up, nuzzling your face against his abdomen, your arms clasping around his waist for comfort, his stomach gleamed with sweat and saliva too, somehow.

logan lifted you to your feet in a swift motion, one of his hands under your arms as the other tucked his dick back into his briefs, getting you to the couch, wrapping that previously forgotten about blanket around you, “i’m gonna run us a bath, you stay here.” his lips pressed a kiss so delicately to your forehead that you felt it almost regenerate your entire body.

“can you stay for a second longer?” your voice was small, unstable.

“m’ not leaving.” logan finds it endearing, honestly a little heartbreaking, “you can’t walk and your shoulders are up to your ears sweet, lemme get a bath going,” he explains, more reassuringly but you still grumble.

he sighs at that, you barely even recognize you are horizontal after what feels like a long blink, one of logan’s arms snugly under your knees whilst the other held your upper back, and he walked onwards to the bathroom, “you remind me of a little lamb like this.” he observed, and laid another sweet kiss, this time to your lips, and your stomach churned in delight, he reassured you once again, just for tonight,

“don’t worry, i’m not leaving yet.”

[suiana]

Fun thought, yandere stuffy that becomes a hot man/alive?

Reader changing:

Yan! Stuffy: 👀

Idk kinda thought this'll become a fun idea to write about, especially with your not-so-serious and hoeny writing lmao

i have yan teddy bear already BUT this would be funny to write, inspired by my gojo plushie

(yandere! stuffy x gn! reader)

after a long day of doing nothing, you decided that a shower would be good for you. so that's what you did and now you were coming out of your shower, wrapped in a towel, skin still damp.

"mn... let's go onesie mode today."

you mutter to yourself as you open your closet to rummage through your items. as you were doing so, you noted that everything was fine and dandy. nothing out of the ordinary. you know, like usual.

until it wasn't.

"you're so sexy babe, can you do a twirl for me?"

what the hell? where did this sexy deep ass voice come from? whipping your head around you stare at this random hot guy in a shark onesie laying on your bed. he even had a pair of sunglasses on! what the sigma? why's he wearing sunglasses at night??

also for some reason he also looks really familiar..?

"what the fuck are you doing in my house?"

"well, you bought me so i live here."

"what the-? slavery? I didn't buy anyone!"

the guy snorts before laughing out loud and smacking your bed with his hand. you could only stare in a mixture of confusion and annoyance before taking out your belt and pointing it at him.

"did you break into my house? huh? who the hell are you?"

the freakishly attractive guy hums with a careless smirk before he tilts his sunglasses down. he lets out a dramatic sigh before tugging at his onesie with his sexy fingers. wow damn, he looks a lot like that plushie you bought a few months back... the one you like a lot, specifically. haha, no way!

"I'm actually your plushie. the one you sleep with every night? come on... don't tell me you forgot. i know you got me a few months ago but you love me more than your other plushies. clearly."

he's actually your plushie?!

your jaw drops and you immediately drop the towel that you were holding to cover up your naked body. because you hadn't changed yet. duh.

silence washes over the two of you before you scream together at the same time as him.

"holy shit I'm naked!"

"holy shit! you're naked!"

you quickly scramble to get your towel back up, only to starw at your plushie turned human as he starts salivating and cooing at you.

"can i lick your skin?"

you pick the belt up again.

"no."

"aw!"

[santaasi]

moth to a flame

pairing: james potter x black!reader

summary: what could be more forbidden than loving your brother's best friend?

warnings: mdni, 18+, smut with plot (fingering), reader is sirius’s twin sister, james smokes, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i'm alive! and now i have bachelor degree! it was a hard few month but i survived and decided to try smth new. i've never posted smut before… sooo idk if it good or not but bc it was in my drafts for a long time now, and i wanted to post smth for u guys… now it's here. not my best work i think but nevertheless i hope you will like it. have a good time reading <з

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" 

The Gryffindor dorm was a whirlwind of noise and energy, laughter bouncing off the walls. You lay sprawled on your bed, desperately trying to wriggle free from his bear-like grip. You never understood where James got so much power from. He was an animagus deer, not a bear, damn you. You twisted and kicked in every direction, but his nimble fingers danced over your bare skin, tickling mercilessly and making you shriek with laughter. Time seemed to blur as your best friend’s relentless tickling pulled you away from your herbology test preparations. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing, and your cheeks felt sore from the constant smile etched on your face.

“Jamie, please stop. I'm going to die now," you mumbled without stopping laughing. “Sirius will come soon and there'll be hell to pay” 

After these words, James grinned, loosened his grip, and rolled onto the other half of the bed. His warm brown eyes followed your every move, a gentle intensity in his gaze. He left a light kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed, and you breathed deeply, trying to steady your erratic breaths. You watched as James crossed the room in a few swift strides, heading to the desk and opening the window. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you felt the cool wind slide through the chiffon curtains, a refreshing contrast to your heated skin.

James's fingers, which had been caressing your skin moments ago, moved with deliberate slowness as he took a cigarette from the pack. He clamped it between his teeth, the flame from his lighter casting a brief, warm glow as he lit it. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His disheveled curls and rumpled white shirt, with its first few buttons teasingly undone, drew your gaze to his collarbones. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the veins on his forearms, each one accentuated in the dim light. That familiar, mischievous grin played on his lips, making you believe that James Potter did it all on purpose.

That grin shone on his face as if he had already won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin. It made your breathing falter again, sending a whole crazy swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. You loved that James Potter grin, the playful twinkle in his eyes, and the way he slightly raised his head to exhale cigarette smoke out the window, where the sun was setting. Yeah, you liked everything about James Potter to the point of a stomach ache and an incredibly fast heartbeat in your chest. 

You were the biggest fan of your brother's best friend. Sometimes, it seemed you literally couldn't live without James—without his jokes, his light touches, his gentle whispers in your ear, and those sparkling eyes like two precious stones. However, James probably didn't even know it, thinking of you only as his best friend's little sister.

“Hey you, don't touch my stuff!” you were indignant, watching him run his fingers over the photo that stood on your desk. You saw James roll his eyes, not paying any attention to your words, and take the frame in both hands, studying it carefully.

“It seems you fit in well with our shabby group,” the guy said quietly and looked around. "Everyone likes you, even Mr. Grumpy Peter”

In his hands was a white frame, its edges adorned with delicate gold filigree, cradling a photo captured just a few weeks earlier. In the picture, you and the Marauders are all there, faces lit with joy—Lily’s laughter bright, Marlene’s mischievous grin, and Dorcas’s warm smile. The scene is set in the cozy common room, where you had all gathered around, lost in the delight of silly Muggle games Lily had introduced. The simple pleasure of those games, so different from the usual weight of family troubles, offered a rare warmth and comfort. You hold this photo close, a cherished relic of laughter and friendship, its presence a bittersweet reminder of how much you missed Sirius when he left you and the rest of the family behind. 

You were profoundly grateful to the entire gang for the chance to be reunited with your twin brother. It was a rare gift to once again be enveloped in his care and protection, to bask in his unwavering love. Your bond with Sirius had always been a delicate thread, frayed by circumstance. The divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor had severed your Hogwarts communication, yet at home, he remained your cherished brother. Though he could be infuriating at times, he was always a steadfast presence, an integral part of your very being.

But the rift deepened when his conflicts with your parents escalated, leaving you unwillingly caught in the crossfire. Sirius's bitterness led him to view you and Regulus as traitors, and then, when he departed, the bond between you was irrevocably severed. It felt as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with him, leaving life in the cold, shadowy manor utterly unbearable.

Then Lily’s intervention restored a semblance of normality. Sirius’s familiar gesture—ruffling your hair in the hallway, calling you "pearl," and flashing that familiar, mischievous smile—was a balm to your wounded heart. Even though a part of you grappled with guilt over maintaining your connection with Sirius while feeling disloyal to Regulus, you couldn't bear to be without your twin. And now, life seemed also incomplete without his cheeky Quidditch captain friend, James Potter, who had become an unexpected but welcome fixture in your world.

“What ‘bout you?” 

The words came out of your mouth before you could think them through. You nervously bit your lower lip, your gaze fixated on James as he methodically extinguished his cigarette, leaving the window ajar. His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and made his way towards the bed. Each step seemed to draw him closer to you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settled next to your feet.

You shifted uneasily, trying to maintain some distance, but James’s presence was undeniable. Your heart raced with every inch he came nearer. When he finally reached out, his hand gently caressed your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The faint, lingering scent of smoke began to weave its way into your senses, adding to the tension that filled the room.

“What ‘bout me, lovely?” He said softly.

His hot breath scorched your neck as James tilted his head slightly to the side. Your eyelashes fluttered and a soft sigh escaped your lips. You could feel the blush rising up your neck and stopping on your cheeks. You've never considered yourself the one who could melt at the sight of a guy… You have always been sure that you are a tough nut to crack and the path to your heart is not easy and thorny. But as soon as James Potter came into your life, sat so close to you and looked at you with his big chocolate eyes, you became a puddle in his hands and there was nothing you could do about it.

It was unbearable to have feelings for James Potter, the school’s shining star, who was constantly surrounded by a throng of admirers vying for his attention. But the situation was even more agonizing knowing that James was your brother's closest friend, the one who had rescued him from the chaos of your family, the brother Sirius had chosen as family.

Despite the unbreakable bond you shared with Sirius, and the way you two were as inseparable as a single machine, you never broached this subject with him. Why? Because you had seen and heard countless stories from friends and acquaintances whose relationships with their siblings’ best friends ended in resentment and discord. You understood the underlying issue all too well: no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire of a breakup between a family member and a closest friend.

For Sirius, the situation would be even more complex. You couldn’t imagine being forced to choose between your twin brother—who was half of you—and your closest friend. It was a choice you knew you could never make, and that realization only deepened the anguish of your feelings for James.

That’s why you remained silent, burying your feelings deep within yourself. Whenever you spent time together, you made a conscious effort to keep your distance from James, but it never seemed to work. With every encounter, your feelings for the Quidditch captain grew stronger, more consuming. Lately, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everything bottled up. Listening to stories about his snogs was tormenting. Watching him flirt and interact with others was a growing source of anguish. You felt yourself unraveling under the weight of it all.

You licked your dry lips, drawing in a shaky breath, and cast your eyes downward before murmuring, barely audible.

"I-uh... do you like me?"

Your voice trembled, faltering until, by the end, your words dissolved into nothing more than a breathy whisper, a stream of air that barely formed a coherent sentence. And you would have died of shame on the spot if it hadn't been for James's thumb stroking your hot cheek soothingly. His gaze slid over your face, carefully, as if under a microscope, studying every detail that seemed to have already learned everything during these couple of months of your close communication. You were so beautiful with those confused eyes, and halting breathing, and that scar showing above your eyebrow when you frowned. You were divine. 

James, having endured relentless teasing from his friends about his feelings for Lily, believed he was as transparent as an open book. He thought that all his innocent touches, lingering glances, and heartfelt compliments had not gone unnoticed by you, and that you were fully aware of how he felt. He was almost certain of it. But now, as he gazed into your wide, bewildered eyes—eyes that looked at him with a mix of adoration and anxiety—he realized he might not have been as obvious as he’d thought.

You nervously bit your lip and fidgeted with the rings on your fingers, and James couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. His gaze briefly lingered on your lips, and he was consumed by a longing to taste them. When he looked back up, he stared straight into the depths of your soul, searching for the truth that lay hidden within.

“I thought you knew the answer.… Everyone knows…”

You blinked a few times, nervously swallowing the lump that was beginning to tighten in your throat. James Potter was far too close, encroaching on your personal space in a way that made your heart race and your breath catch. You slowly raised your eyes, trying to come up with some clever answer or make a joke of everything, just not to feel this shame and misunderstanding, just to stop this war in your head. But before you could make a sound, you were on your back again. A surprised sigh escaped your lips when you saw James's smiling face looming over you. His palm rested on your waist, gently squeezing the soft flesh exposed under your shirt. 

"Do you want to know the answer, angel?" James asked slowly, bending forward slightly and stretching out each word. His voice was soft and sweet like honey, making goosebumps cover your body. 

"Only if I... like it," you whispered softly to him in response, blinking your eyes in surprise, feeling your eyelashes tickle your cheeks. 

You felt the ghostly brush of his lips against your temple, then your cheekbone, your cheek, and finally the corner of your lips. James Potter's teasing touch was driving you wild. Your hands instinctively clenched the fabric of his shirt in tight fists as you closed your eyes, a soft whimper escaping your lips. His kiss lingered on your chin before trailing down to your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“James...” you exhaled, parting your lips as a shiver of impatience rippled through your body. Your fists tightened on his shirt, pulling him closer, desperately craving the contact you longed for. James's laugh came out in a low, throaty sound, and you pouted, frustrated by his playful teasing. But before you could voice your discontent, his lips met yours, pulling you into a tender, sweet kiss that made all your frustrations melt away.

Kissing James Potter was as enchanting as you’d imagined, if not more so. His lips, softened by your cherry balm, carried a lingering taste of cherries, mingling with hints of cigarettes, fresh herbs, and even chocolate—the same chocolates you’d savored just moments before, before James had playfully wrested the last one from you. Where had it gone now?

Your hands gently released his shirt, moving up to his shoulders, fingers threading through his tousled curls and drawing him nearer. You felt a delightful shiver on your lips as James exhaled a satisfied sigh and nibbled on your lower lip. You giggled softly, your fingers tangling further in his hair, pulling him even closer, savoring every second of the sweet, intoxicating kiss. James squeezed your waist a little tighter before reaching under your shirt. His fingers closed around your chest and you moaned softly into his lips, arching your back to meet him.

James slipped his knee between your legs, and you gently moved your hips, feeling the already wet fabric of your panties slide over the stiff material of his pants. James's lips moved lower, covering your neck with kisses, giving you time to catch your breath.

“Jamie... James... don't,” you whispered breathlessly with pleasure. His lips touched your sweet spot behind your ear and you moaned softly. James Potter will be the end of you. 

“Yeah,” James said confidently in the area of your collarbone, quickly unbuttoning the buttons of your white dress shirt. James looked up at you for a second and you frowned slightly, not understanding what he was talking about. “Yes,” he repeated, looking you straight in the eye. “Yes, I like you, angel. Ever since you blew up our amortentia at potions,” you felt the vibration of his laughter on your neck when he left another kiss. 

“But... but that was in the third year...” you whispered, not believing him. James liked Lily at that time, and probably still does. Sirius and Peter often joke that…

“Hmm...” James mumbled in agreement, moving lower, leaving light kisses on both of your breasts. "I couldn't confess ‘cause Sirius is my friend... you're his lil’ sister... and I was a fuckin’ thirteen-year-old loser who was afraid to even look in your direction." 

You laughed softly, sliding your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching the skin of his head. James's hot breath burned your skin as his lips moved lower and lower down your body. Every new kiss is a new place. The cleavage. The ribs. Belly. Bellybutton. 

"And then Lily brought you to us... and I couldn't just watch anymore... when you were so close... so beautiful... gentle... sweet..." James's lips touched the bottom of your stomach, and his fingers gently slipped under the elastic band of your skirt. But before he could pull it down your trembling legs, you grabbed his face with both hands, lifting it higher, connecting your lips. James Potter could resist anything, but not you. He could never resist you. 

Kissing James Potter was like soaring through the sky, a rush of air that caressed your skin with a tantalizing chill. It was like the first warm summer rain, gently gliding through your hair, or the sun's rays breaking through after a long, cold winter, warming the earth with their tender touch. His kisses were like the living water from fairy tales—revitalizing and magical, making you breathe deeply and revel in the pure joy of the moment.

“As much as I would like to continue, but James...” you kissed his lips again, looking into his frowning eyes. Your hands gently stroked his cheeks, feeling a slight tingle from his growing stubble. "Sirius is coming soon and I... I don't want him to find us in such a-... such a compromising position." You blushed fiercely, your cheeks turning as red as a ripe tomato, and James’s laughter rang out once more. He leaned in to kiss you savoringly on the cheek, his touch both tender and playful.

His hand was gently stroking your stomach, and his knee was still moving slowly between your legs. You exhaled noisily, throwing your head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. Hips involuntarily moved to meet him and you squeezed his biceps with your hand. You whimpered when the pleasure became almost unbearable, when you wanted to feel something more.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much, angel,” James whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck. You felt his hand slip through the elastic of your skirt, barely touching your pelvis. “Who am I to deprive you of this pleasure, pretty girl?”

You squeezed your eyes shut when James's fingers slid into your panties, gently tracing between your folds, smearing your arousal. 

“Merlin... Jamie,” you muttered in a trembling voice, moving your hips towards his hands. You heard James chuckle, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. You were one hundred percent sure that his marks would remain in these places. And you would have objected if it weren't for the feelings that made you forget about everything. You moaned when his finger slipped inside your dripping hole. Your eyes opened and you met his brown ones, James left a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, look at me, angel,” James said hoarsely. “I want to see how good I make you feel” 

You meowed and nodded, unable to say anything to him. His finger slowly slid inside your gummy walls, hitting that very spot, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. But you kept looking at him. 

"Jamie... more," you said faintly, and he laughed, adding another finger, twitching an eyebrow, asking, "Is that better?" 

You nodded your head, feeling a surge of euphoria. You've never felt anything like this before. Your fingers have never been so skillful and long to reach the cherished place that they make your whole gut cry with desire. James gradually increased the pace, making you moan softly, clinging to his shirt. You looked into his eyes, feeling them devour and memorize every emotion that slipped across your face. Enjoying your pleasure. His thumb slid over your clit in soft circular movements, and your body arched towards him with pleasure. You could feel the knot of pleasure tightening within you, on the verge of breaking free. Your eyes fluttered rapidly, and your lips parted in silent wonder. You tried to form words, but only soft, breathless moans escaped, betraying the intensity of the sensation.

“I know angel... just let go,” James whispered in your ear, and it snapped the last thread that was holding you back. You closed your eyes, moaning louder than before, feeling like you were coming. James was whispering something in your ear, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm, but you were over the moon with pleasure to attach any importance to it.

And a moment after it you felt empty. Breathing heavily, you turned your closed eyes to the guy who was grinning at you, licking your release off his fingers. You ran your hand tenderly over his cheek, trailing down to his neck, gently guiding him closer. Your body felt almost unresponsive, but your need to kiss him was overwhelming. You wanted to feel him, to lose yourself in the connection. As his lips met yours, you relaxed into the kiss, parting your lips lazily and letting James take the lead, savoring every moment. You could still feel the sweet taste of your juice on his lips and it made your heart flutter faster, giving reality to what was happening. 

Your hand slowly slid from his shoulder lower to his chest, then to his torso and slightly lower, gently touching the buckle of his belt, but before you could even make an attempt to undo it, James grabbed your hands in his and pulled them away, shaking his head. You frowned, not understanding why he doesn't want you to bring him the same pleasure as he gives you. You wanted to please him. You wanted to do it for him. 

“Not today, angel.” He kissed your knuckles, kneeling next to you. You sat up in front of him, your lower lip trembling as his hands began to button your shirt. You sniffed, not understanding what was going on. He wanted it as much as you did, didn't he? 

Seeing your expression, James immediately cupped your cheeks in his hands and shook his head. 

“I want you, beauty. Merlin, lovely... more than anything in this world, I want to take you right here and now.” James laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. “But like you said, I don't want Sirius or anyone else to get in the way, do I?” you were still pouting, blinking your eyes. James kissed you and joined your foreheads, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you, but later, ‘kay?" 

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for his lips once more. Having tasted James Potter, you felt an insatiable craving for more. With a playful smile, he pulled you closer, and you shifted to straddle him on the bed. His laughter rang out as he placed his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. Your hands wandered slowly over his chest, savoring the moment.

“So, there will be a next time?” you asked, playfully biting your lip. Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him, cutting off any potential answer.

You didn’t need a reply. In his eyes, you saw the same fiery intensity that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Now, James was the moth flying straight into your blaze. After tonight, there would be no turning back for either of you—both consumed by a fire that would burn without end.

thankx for reading <3

for all my lovelies who are waiting for james fluff i’m currently working on some fluffy stuff, so stay tuned!

and as always, you can share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[leclerc-hs]

lucky - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated. Warnings: BAD FRENCH??? (I don't speak French...please correct me so I can make some edits!!! Would be greatly appreciated), angst!!!!!, no smut but maybe if I make a part 2? Word Count: 1,332 Author's Note: I'm thinking I want to make another part to this maybe??? Idk what do we think. It was just a random thought that came to mind. I didn't edit or proofread. Please fix my French if you can!!! xo UPDATED FRENCH: edits thanks to @dannyramirezwife!!!! PART 2 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Ah, merde!" You exclaimed, dashing up the stairs of your apartment building. As usual, you were running late, but this time it was for your own dinner party. Your hands were full, and the constant vibration of your phone in your coat pocket suggested your friends were wondering were you were.

In the home stretch, you reached your door, ready to unlock it. To your confusion, the door swung wide open just as you approached. Charles leaned against the frame, a hand towel casually slung over his shoulder, like he owned the place.

"Où étais-tu tout ce temps-là, Lucky?" Where have you been all this time? Lucky. Your childhood nickname. His lucky charm. It warmed your heart to hear.

His eyebrows were scrunched as you stepped through the doorway, brushing past his shoulder and into the living room where all your friends sat chatting loudly. A small speaker played music in the background softly while your friends all chatted and laughed. It took a moment for them to notice your arrival.

"She's here!" "Mon dieu, finally." "I am so hungry." echoed through the room as your friends expressed their relief and hunger. Their flushed cheeks suggested they had indulged in heaps of wine while waiting for your arrival.

"See Charles, no need to have an aneurysm. I knew she would show up soon," Joris teased, winking in your direction before casting a glance over your shoulder. No doubt, Charles towering over your frame behind you.

"Je suis désolé," I'm sorry. You apologized repeatedly, sensing the tension. After urging everyone into the dining room with a wave, you added, "Sit, please," prompting your friends to take their seats. You hurried into the kitchen, dropping your bags by the kitchen table.

"Où étais-tu?" Where were you? You felt his hands on your hips as you opened the wine fridge to grab more bottles of wine for the table.

Butterflies. The warmth of his hands made your stomach flutter.

"Got caught up at work and missed the bus," You explained in a huff. "I had to walk all the way back here."

His hands tightened on your waist, turning you around to face him. His eyes were darker than normal, eyebrows still furrowed. "Mon dieu! Why didn't you call me?" My God. He seemed frustrated even more so now. The tone in his voice was rather sharp. "It's freezing outside."

"Ca va, Cha." I am fine. You reassured him, gently moving away from his embrace. You carried the bottles into the dining room and placed them on the table. Charles following, a large pasta dish in hand for the table that everyone immediately dug into as soon as it hit the table.

As the guests eagerly dug into the meal, you settled into your seat, intending to fill your wine glass. However, Charles beat you to it, taking the last seat beside you and topping off your glass, his actions notably conspicuous.

The dynamic between you and Charles was far from straight-forward. Best friends since childhood, who also hook up, who also don't tell their friends about it? It was complex for sure.

You both didn't look at it as an exclusive thing either though. You both go on your fair share of dates. More Charles than you. Yours never went further than a few dates for fun.

Since Charles and his ex-girlfriend last broke up, he has been more needy and more possessive of you. You figured he would get back together with her at some point, like he always did. It was just a ticking time bomb at this point. You, counting down the days until he takes her back.

"Hot date?" You heard Arthur ask from across the table, winking at you. "How was it?" You felt Charles hand slip to your thigh under the table, gripping it tightly.

You truly were coming from work tonight. But you did have a date last night. One that you didn't need Charles to hear about.

"Non," No. You felt your cheeks redden, a dead giveaway that you in fact did go on a date. "I got stuck at work, imbécile," you stuck your tongue out playfully at Arthur. Everyone laughing immediately, except Charles.

Charles squeezed your thigh again, clearly wanting your attention. You turn your head to him giving him a pointed look. Saying stop. Saying please wait until later. He understood, slipping his hand off of your thigh and faking a smile for the table as he falls into conversation with the rest of the table.

After a few hours, with everyone in a cheerful state of inebriation and satisfied bellies, the apartment was finally cleaned up and emptied. The lively chatter had faded away, leaving behind a quiet space. The only person lingering was Charles, sprawled comfortably on your couch, waiting.

You weren't privy to the excuse he had given to avoid going home with the others, but at the moment, you didn't care. No one seemed to question or pay much attention to him staying behind, as if it were a routine occurrence.

"Qui c'est?" Who is it? He sat like he was on his throne. Except it was your couch. Looking at you, like you owed him every explanation.

"Cha, s'il te plaît," please.

You could feel him getting more frustrated by the minute. You loved him to death. He was your best friend. Your person. You fought like siblings sometimes. But, you also fought like lovers.

You didn't want to get into who you were going on dates with. It was casual. Just for fun. It's not like Charles is officially yours.

"Non, dis-moi." No, tell me. You noticed him clench his hand into a fist just slightly.

"It was just a date, no one important." You waved him off. Taking a seat beside him on the couch. Silence followed. As if he was lost in his own head.

"Merci," you thanked him. For setting up dinner. He is the only other person with a key to your place after all.

His eyes flicked from you to the TV. He couldn't look at you while he said these next words.

"I don't want you to date."

It was unfair. And he knew it too. Which is why he couldn't look you in the eyes as he said it. He doesn't deserve to tell you that. He doesn't deserve to feel this way.

You let out a loud sigh, "Cha. You can't say things like that." You wanted to cry honestly. "Let's keep this simple, oui?"

You both were too blind. Blind to see that no one else would ever make you happier. But, you both were too scared to fully commit. Because you knew once you did, that was it. There could be nobody after you. There could be nobody after him.

"J'en ai marre," I'm sick of it. You felt him stand up from the couch. He was now pacing in front of you, the sound of the TV barely heard as he raised his voice. "J'en suis malade de mentir," I am so sick of lying.

You knew what he meant. You felt that way too. But it wasn't time. You both weren't ready to make it official. It was too scary.

"Assez!" Enough. You exclaimed. You couldn't handle this right now.

"Just go home," you felt shut down. You were not ready for this conversation. You knew Charles patience was wearing thin. But it was unfair. Just because he thinks he is finally ready, does not mean you need to be.

Charles felt as if he could rip out all of his hair. He wanted to pound his fists all over the place, just to get you to give him something. You were completely shut down. He wanted a reaction. He wanted a confession. Nothing you would provide at the moment.

"C'est pas croyable ça," Unbelievable. He said bitterly with a small laugh. "Have fun on your dates."

And with that, he was out the door. Slamming it hard enough that the walls of your apartment shook.

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Nine - Cough Cough I'm Sick

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.3K

(idk who sorts out the media stuff so i just said marketing manager)

Series Masterlist

Here's the thing, it was exactly what it looked like. Max let out a laugh as he looked at the papaya drivers panicked. "Relax," he said quickly and walked out of the driver's room. "I'll meet you both outside."

Y/N and Lando looked at each other as Max shut the door. "Fuck," she whispered as she pulled her clothes back onto her body. She swapped Landos shirt for her own.

Wordlessly, Y/N left his drivers room. She pushed past Max and sped walked out of the track. She was so fucking stupid - this was why they had those rules in the first place!

And now that Max knew, what was going to happen?

She didn't sleep that night, anxiety overtaking her. For the first time of the grand prix weekend, Y/N checked her phone. She went onto her private account, went to the for you page (for the memes) and was immediately flooded with pictures of her in Landos hoodie. Fuck, that was right. She was wearing Landos hoodie.

She didn't know if Lando went to the club with Max, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around her pillow and tried to get some sleep.

***

They'd been home for two days and they hadn't slept together. It was unusual, but Lando couldn't blame her, especially after what had happened in Spain.

He missed her. Which, this time just a few months ago, would have felt impossible. But he really did miss her, everything about her.

She didn't entirely avoid him, but it felt like she didn't want him anymore. They hadn't properly spoken since the grand prix, almost like they weren't even friends anymore.

Lando kept himself busy. He gamed and streamed a lot, rarely giving himself time to think about the little hole in his heart.

It was an overreaction, Y/N knew. But she was terrified of the consequences that they'd inevitably get. So far, nothing had happened. But that didn't mean it wasn't coming.

The next week was the Canadian grand prix. For every grand prix since they began living together, Y/N and Lando had travelled together. One of them would usually drive to the grand prix, taking it in turns.

This time, though, Y/N travelled alone. She made her own way to the grand prix, over thinking and then sleeping on the flight.

Lando hadn't realised she'd left. He knocked on her bedroom and pushed it open. "Y/N?" He called, but she wasn't there, already on her way to Canada.

Obviously, Y/N arrived before him. She’d slept on the flight, sure, but she still made her way to her bedroom for a nap. Exhaustion gripped her as she got under the blankets and closed her eyes, still in her travelling clothes.

When Y/N woke up, there was insistent knocking on her hotel room door. “Fine, alright!” She shouted, her voice croaky. Her throat killed as she pulled open the door and came face to face with the McLaren marketing manager. “Hey,” Y/N said, rubbing at her eyes.

“You’re meant to be doing media things with Lando,” the marketing manager said quickly.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath and checked the time on her phone. Had she really been asleep for that long? “Okay, I’ll get dressed.”

She shut the door and got changed. What she would have loved to do was take a shower, but with the way the marketing manager was talking, she definitely didn’t have time.

As soon as she was dressed, Y/N followed the marketing manager down to the lobby of the hotel. Outside there was a car waiting for her. She climbed into the back seat and pressed her head against the cool window as they drove towards the track.

Somehow, she fell asleep in the car once again. She woke up to somebody shaking her shoulder, and was quick to follow them into the McLaren hospitality unit. Her had swam as she walked, but she ignored it; she had a job to do.

It was the first time she had seen Lando since she left their apartment. “Hey,” she said through a croaky voice as she sat in the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lando, his arm resting on the sofa behind her.

Y/N quickly moved it. She nodded her head and looked at the camera in front of them as a member of staff past her and Lando question cards.

***

She was sick. That was clear to anyone as she threw up into her bathroom. But to her, it was just stress. She’d had a taste of her first win and she wanted more. Th thought of trying to keep being consistent was making her so stressed that she was coming across sick.

She threw up before qualifying. How she made it all the way to Q3, she didn’t know, but she struggled to qualify in the top five. As soon as qualifying was done, Y/N rushed back to the hotel room while the team at McLaren took care of the media for her. She managed to avoid fans as she was driven back to the hotel.

As soon as she was in her room as she asleep on her bed, still wearing the McLaren shirts and shorts that she had left the circuit in. She didn’t even climb under the covers before falling asleep, her head just about on the pillow.

Again, she woke up to somebody knocking at her door. Again, she reluctantly stood up and pulled open the door.

Only this time, it was Lando on the other side of the door. “Shit,” he whispered as he looked at her. “You look…”

“Like shit,” Y/N answered for him.

“Are you okay?” Lando asked again and Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against the wood of the door frame. But Lando clearly didn’t believe her. He stared at her, raising his eyebrows, waiting for her to take it back, to tell him that she was feeling as terrible as she looked.

Still, she couldn’t admit it. Lando tried to walk past her, to get into her room, but she stood in his way. “What do you want, Lando?”

“I want you to admit that you’re sick and let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me,” she said, somewhat stubbornly.

So, Lando grabbed a hold of her shoulders and forced his way into her room. He sat the door behind him and sat her on the bed. “Talk to me,” he said, kicking off his shoes and laying back against her pillows.

“About what?” She spat back, crossing her arms as she looked out of the window.

“About why you’re not talking to me.”

She visibly deflated. Fuck, she had missed him, but their last time had scared her enough to keep her away. No, he was just asking to get into her head before the race.

“Max hasn’t told anybody, you know,” he said, leaning forward and placing his large hand on her shoulder. “He’s not going to.”

Y/N twitched her head towards him, but she didn’t say anything.

“We could go back to the way we were, you know,” Lando continued. “I… I miss you and I want to go to how we were.”

She let out a sob and wiped beneath her eyes. She missed it too. Missed him. “I-“ but she couldn’t say more than that.

Wordlessly she crawled towards him. she laid down beside him, placing her head on his chest. “Lando, we can’t tonight,” she said.

“I know,” he responded with a nod. “You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick!” She insisted.

“You’re sick.”

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.

There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).

ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.

Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.

It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is. 

That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.

One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.

"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.

You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.

Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.

You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.

"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.

He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.

"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.

He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."

Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.

(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)

You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.

A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.

"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."

Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.

It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.

He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.

"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."

His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"

Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.

"I'm... sorry?"

"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."

For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.

Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.

Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.

"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.

"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.

He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"

Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.

"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"

You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"

"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."

You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."

"Excited for wh-"

Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.

"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."

Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"

You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.

"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.

"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.

"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?

You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?

You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"

"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.

He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"

Fuck.

One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.

"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.

"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?

Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.

"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.

With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.

Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.

He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."

[jistagrams]

best interest p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem! reader

warnings: smut, zestyish jokes (Jake and sunghoon are basically In love idk), cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!!), kinda mean? dom sunghoon, pervert sunghoon, slight choking, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!

minors dni!!

Friday 6:10 pm

what sunghoon didn't expect was to fall in love with you, living together just made him crazy, seeing you walk around in a big tee with just panties under?? yeah. "She won't even let jay hit" sunghoon ranted to his friend on facetime, "maybe shes a virgin and she's saving it for someone special" Jake replied, placing a kiss on his girlfriends head turning off his mic. "I'm someone special!" Hoon whined throwing his phone on his bed, "I guess not to her" Jake turned his mic back on snickering. "Should I fuck her best friend to get revenge.." he started questioning his own existence, hes never been this crazy over someone. did you cast a love spell on him or something? "her best friend is haechan" Jake set up his phone on the table, showing him as he put his headphones on and turning on his console. "ok nevermind. would rather kiss you than fuck haechan" "you would kiss me?" "hell no." "then why say it you got my hopes up" "..jake shut the fuck up" Jake laughs as the light from his computer reflected on his face. "yk what you should do, try and seduce her" he proposed, "that doesn't sound that bad, how would I even do that" sunghoon replies, finally picking his phone up from the bed to walk into the kitchen. "mmm, since y'all live together try walking around like shirtless or like... loudly jerking off??" Jake bit his nails while thinking, "holy shit your gonna make me get a restraining order" sunghoon laughed out loud, hearing the door unlock he quickly hung up and texted Jake "she's home, gonna take ur advice istg if she calls the cops on me you'll never see ur stupid apex acc again."

Friday 8:56 pm

he was nervous, obviously. he wasn't nervous about how he looked, he knew he looked good. he was just nervous on how your reaction would be, he hyped himself up in his room for a bit. doing some pushups till he walked out of his room shirtless knowing your in the kitchen, "yn" he spoke out to you, making you turn around to look at him. "why are u naked" was the first thing you said to him since you got home. "gonna take a shower, u cooking anything?" "Nah, I'm ordering food I'm just in here eating chips", clearly looking unfazed, "should we order something then?" He replied. Walking into the kitchen, sweats hanging low. Showing a obvious bulge, "I'll just get pizza u go take a shower, you stink like sweat" you looked away from his piercing gaze. He chuckled, "mm, ok let me know when the food comes I'll get it" he says while walking away and into the bathroom, quickly locking it and holding his head in his hands.

sunghoon : She won't even look at me 😭😭💔💔💔💔💔😢

Jake : maybe ur js butt ugly.

sunghoon : this is not helping idiot

Jake : did u walk around shirtless 🌚

sunghoon : YES BRO. even wore my baggy jeans to show extra 🤬😡

Jake : what if she's into girls...omg sunghoon I'm cooking here

sunghoon : only thing ur cooking is that burnt ass hair.

Jake : fuck u times 10 😒

sunghoon : u wanna fuck me 🌚

Jake : my gf just saw that msg without seeing the name I hope yn never ends up liking you.

sunghoon : CHILL BRO

he took a shower while blasting music, thinking on what his next plan was. he got out of the shower, black hair dripping water as he wrapped a towel around his waist. he looked in the mirror as he thought of a idea, he picked up his phone as some random rap song played, he took a picture shirtless. Sending it to Jake to confirm if it was cute or not.

sunghoon : *image attached*

Jake : wrong person

sunghoon : u fucking airhead is it cute or not

Jake : oh LMFAOOO

Jake : it's cute, who's it for

sunghoon : baefy yn

Jake : atp send her a dick pic

sunghoon : should i

Jake : yea if u wanna get blocked

as he turned his music off he heard you yelling for him from the living room. He quickly threw on his boxers and sweats, getting out as he put his phone in his pocket. "what's wrong?" He asked standing Infront of you, once again. Wearing baggy sweats but instead of them damn near falling off they are tied with the string. "do u not have any shirts or something, also the pizzas here" you handed him the money for the tip, he grabs it and walks to the door. "thanks" he smiled at the young woman handing him the pizza who was basically drooling. "can I get your number" she sheepishly asked. You looked at them in disgust, looking at the girl as sunghoon laughed and said no. He closed the door, walking back over to you, flopping on the couch and putting the pizza on the table. "why didn't you give her your number?" You asked, "wasn't interested" he shrugged, picking up a piece of pizza. Watching whatever you put on. "Lame."

Saturday 10:43 pm

he was hard. Extremely horny. to the point where he thought he might cum at barely sliding down his shorts. he thought back to the call he had with Jake yesterday, "jerk off loudly, yeah if I wanna be seen as a perv" he scoffed and slid down his shorts and boxers in one go. thinking if he should get off to a picture of you or just some random video on pornhub, he decided on a random video on pornhub. last thing he wants to be is a pervert (even tho he already jerks off to your pictures anyways..) he whined softly as he held his dick in his hand. fuck it. He loaded in on Instagram and stalked your account as his hand slid up and down his shaft. soft moans escaping his throat while looking through your highlights till he found his favorite picture, one of you and him at the beach. bathing suit top hugging your chest so well, making sunghoon's hand go faster on his already red cock, precum dribbling out his slit. His finger accidentally slipping and liking the year old photo. Shit. Shit shit shit. just as he was freaking out his load started shooting out, landing on his black shirt and blankets. his moan was loud, extremely loud. He only realized till after calming down from his high that 1. He sounded like a porn film and 2. He liked your story. He cleaned himself off with the shirt he was wearing, taking it off and throwing it in his laundry basket. Pulling his boxers and shorts up, grabbing another shirt from his drawer. just as he put his shirt on he heard his door swing open, "why you stalking me" you smirked at sunghoon, sitting on his chair in his room. "wasnt stalking you" he side eyed you as he continued to put on his shirt, looking down to notice a cum stain on his shorts cursing to himself, "I needa change my shorts. U gonna stay or what" he asked, looking at you. you turned around in the spin chair, he quickly took off his shorts and grabbed another pair. Putting them on and laying on his bed, "you can look now" he said, picking up his phone to see who texted him. "sunghoon" you called out to him, scooting closer to the bed until you gave up and laid on the bed next to him, "hm?" He replied. Sending a quick text to Jake and going on TikTok, "you should be quieter when you jerk off. not everyone wants to hear that when they wanna call their friend" you smiled at him teasingly as he looked at you before flicking your head with the same hand he used to jerk off with. You got up from his bed and left, sunghoon closed his door with his foot , sending another text to Jake. "Your dead meat."

Thursday 12:29 am

it's been 4 days since he started trying to seduce you, key word. Trying. everytime he jerked off you would just ignore it, same with him walking around in just sweats. he's at the point where he might as well walk around naked, he let our a frustrated sigh as he stood up from his bed. going to your room to get his charger that he lent you a few hours prior, maybe god was on his side or he was just lucky as hell. He opened the door to see you fucking yourself on a dildo. He feels like he could die from happiness right now, you were quick to slide the dildo out of you and cover yourself up. "Oh. My bad" he said, grabbing his charger from your side table. Your face was red, "sunghoon" you quietly called out. "what? ur not done with the charger?" He asked, looking at you covered by your purple sheets. You shook your head, "you wanna help?" you asked, uncovering your body.

Thursday 9:12am

he really has to stop dreaming of you. He woke up hard as shit, all because of that stupid dream. Like he would walk in on your masturbating? Yeah right. He sat up from his bed and groggily walked into the kitchen, he ignored you as he grabbed a water bottle and chugged it. You were quick to notice the very obvious bulge, swallowing your spit while you looked at his back. imagining how it would look after you scratched it during sex. Or how his hands would feel on your body, how his fingers would feel inside of you. Ok yn. Enough of these lewd thoughts. That's your friend your thinking of, your really hot friend. "u wanna make breakfast?" he said, his hot breath on your neck. you felt goosebumps, how did he get behind you so quick? the hell? "not hungry right now so no" you answered, not daring to turn around. "But I'm hungry" he mumbled resting his head on your shoulder. "Make your own food loser" you quickly spoke, moving quick to your room. he smirked to himself, he finally got to you. He's definitely gonna tell Jake about this.

Thursday 5:01 pm

"yn" you hummed as you focused on your show. "Are you a virgin" he asked, you nearly choke on your spit. "What kind of question is that?" You stare at him in shock. Sunghoon shrugged, not looking away from the tv. "Are you?" He asked again. "No sunghoon. I'm not a virgin. Are you?" You spoke with a small attitude in your voice, "nope" he replied, popping the p. "Are you lesbian?" He asked another question. "no. What the hell are these questions??" You shifted your whole body towards him. "So why don't you look my way." He finally looked at you, once again. Staring with a piercing gaze. "What do you mean by that" you know exactly what he means. "Why don't you show any interest in me" the fuck? You always show interest in him, why do you think you wear just shirts around the house? "I do" doesn't seem like it. "I like you yn." He finally expressed his feelings that were making him go insane. "me too" your voice was barley heard, "you like yourself too?" He smiled and chuckled softly. "No I like you too" you smiled back, feeling shy at the sudden confessions. "You know I love you" he said, scooting closer. Holding your face as he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, "I would hope so, why are you saying it so early though" you snickered, "cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't" his smile was so innocent you almost didn't register what he said, he's gonna fuck you like he doesn't? Hell yeah.

Thursday 5:30 pm

your not sure how you ended up in sunghoon's bed, laying on your back as he slurped up your juices. Spewing random shit as he ate you out, "been waiting like...months for this moment" his chin was glistening from eating you out. Sticking two fingers inside to bring you closer to your climax, and you were quick to hit it. Gripping onto his hand that was sliding in and out of you, helping you ride your high out. "that was good huh?" He smiled up at you. giving him a tired nod, he slipped his fingers out of you and sat up. Kissing your lips before sticking his fingers in your mouth to taste yourself, he was different from any other men you've slept with. No man would do this, besides sunghoon apparently. He took his fingers out of your mouth after you sucked them clean, praising you softly as he pulled his boxers down. Slapping his dick on your pussy, "you ready?" You nodded. He entered slowly, groaning out while you pulled him down to hold onto him. Clawing on his back, when he fully bottomed out you realized he was huge. Like 6 inches huge. Sliding back out just to thrust back in, he kept his quite fast pace while you rambled about something he wasn't paying attention to. only thing he was focused on was how good you felt around him, almost too good. "fuck, gonna cum soon if you keep clenching like that" he moaned out, kissing your cheek as he whined and moaned in your ear. "sunghoon" you sighed out, "yeah baby?" he answered. Lifting himself up, keeping his hands on your tits as you rambled about how good he felt. "I know love" he hummed back, sliding out. "doggy style baby" you were quick to get into the position and he was quick to slide right back in, you felt him deeper than you did just a few seconds ago. Arms already weak, making sunghoon hold you up. He was hitting places you didn't even know he could hit, "already fucked out?" He snickered, his hand snaking up to your neck to apply pressure. you immediately felt yourself let go and cum, "i-im cumming" you whined out, holding onto his arm. "I know" He replied, letting you go to fall onto the bed. fucking you harder than he already was, "gonna cum inside n ruin you for every other man" he grunted in your ear,trying to chase his own high. "fuck, taking it so well. who fucks you the best?" He moaned, "y-you" you were extremely sensitive, you felt another climax coming. it came too fast to even warn sunghoon, all he felt was tons of juice on his abs and hips. "Holy shit you just squirted" he spoke in pure shock, still fucking you as he praises you. you were a mess, tears were streaming down your cheeks as sunghoon finally came inside, "m' cumming pretty" he sighed out as he came, rocking his hips slowly. "you did so good for me baby" he slid out and kneeled down, he was quick to latch onto your pussy to clean you up. "w-wait sunghoon" you gasped out, "I'm almost done love" he reassured you, he was right. He had fully cleaned you up and laid down beside you, holding you softly. placing kisses on your face, both of you falling asleep

Friday 10:13 am

yeah. His back does look hot with a bunch of scratch marks. "does your back hurt?" You asked, embarrassed from how many there are. "nah, even if it did I think it would be worth it" he smiled as he poured coffee for you, kissing your forehead and placing a arm around your waist. maybe Jake was right, after all his advice did get sunghoon here.

[halaboyz]

did you like her in the morning?, yunho

ateez bf! yunho x fem! reader angst angst angst angst (pre-breakup) wc: 1.5k warnings: desperation idk, mentions of cheating, a whole lot of cursing, mention of k-word and d-word for the sake of the argument a/n: you voted for him YOU GOT IT ! this has two POVs, the other one (the actual arranged marriage) is here ! i think this hurts more idk !!! don't ask me ,, i alternately use jeong and yunho in the dialogues bc "jeong!!" feels a little bit more powerful and "yunho" seemed soft so don't bash my head for that !!

"...Can we talk?" Yunho calls over the phone a few minutes of silence after the line got connected. He sounded awfully serious, yet so soft-spoken.

"Of course, Love. What time do you get home?" You coo, staying calm amidst the anxiety building up. "I've also got groceries I just picked up to cook so if you want to eat something, tell me,"

"No, y/n. I meant now. Can we talk now?" You hear him sigh, and you could make out in your head that he was slightly shaking his head and massaging his forehead.

"Okay, since you seem so head-straight about it. What is it?" You surrender, putting your groceries down and sitting on the couch. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. We just need to talk," Yunho quickly shuts you down, as if he was in a rush to let everything out. "I... I'm not going home."

"..Okay? We'll see each other tomorrow night though, right?"

"No, I meant I'm not going home. Anymore." And silence. It wasn't even supported with any explanation. Any kind, any type. As if you were just to accept what he's saying.

"What do you mean, Yunho?"

"I'm not going to go home anymore, y/n. Not anymore." It was that simple. It was just like that. Told like news, and he wasn't even fazed while you were nearly on your knees to understand.

"Love, I don't understand. What do you mean you're not coming home? Hmm?" Your voice wavered as you begged for him to say something.

"I'm not going home anymore, y/n. What's so hard to understand?" He exasperatingly replies, making you furrow your brows.

"I asked what you fucking meant! Make me understand, Yunho! You can't just drop a bomb like this and act like I'm the dumb one here!" You exclaim through the phone, jumping on your feet and then going back and forth the living room and the front door. "I know we're not getting along the past few weeks but god, Yunho. Let's at least work it out,"

"I'm getting engaged, y/n." You wait. You wait, and wait, and wait. For further excuses. Further explanations. Anything. If you thought that the words 'I'm not going home anymore,' was a bomb, this was self-destruction. You shouldn't have asked, huh?

But when it was followed with nothing but silence and his sighs, you scoff in disbelief.

"...That's it?" You just... held on. He was being ridiculously funny that an insignificant, lifeless laugh comes out of you.

"Dad set us up."

"So, that's it?" You reply quickly when all he does was take his time sculpting an acceptable answer, but he was greatly failing at it. So when you replied that quickly, he doesn't try anymore. "Come home, Yunho."

"No, y/n."

"Come home and fucking explain looking at me in the eyes, Yunho. I'm not going to make any engagement happen if you're not going to come home, Jeong. So come home if you really want that and, end us. I'll even pack your things with my own two fucking hands," And you were stern. Yet you mean the other way around.

Just to prove something, you don't want him to come home. So that no engagement was going to happen in your territory. As you end the call in a hurry, you fall down to your knees as you sob, it was better to sob all by yourself than have Yunho standing in front of you in minutes, hours...

To which he is.

As you were hugging your knees, unable to move from your place on the floor leaning on the couch, you hear your front door opening to your horror.

Yunho, standing tall and mighty before you, as if he even dropped everything just to come home. To come home and end everything; to come home and ruin you.

He stared right at you, love long left his eyes. It was clear through your teary eyes, and it wasn't as hard for him to let go as it was with you.

"You want to leave so bad you really came home, huh?" A chuckle of some sort leaves your lips, wiping your tears.

"Are we going to make things hard for the both of us, y/n?" He starts, and he doesn't break eye contact as he slowly steps closer to you. Close enough to hear him better, far enough not to reach him to hold him back.

"It's not hard for me though, Yunho." You say out, coming as a whisper that shakes. "It's not hard for me holding on to you, Yunho. I've loved you all these years and we've had rough patches too, but it was never hard for me to always, always choose you."

You've come to think Yunho's silence was a tinge of hesitation, or so you hope. Because Yunho doesn't respond.

"You don't look like you're having a hard time too, only that we meant totally different things." You chuckle lifelessly, sniffing. "You don't look like you're having a hard time letting go of the woman you dated for five years."

"Y/n. Stop it. It wasn't an easy decision,"

"Wasn't an easy decision, for whom, Jeong?!" You've risen up to your feet to step closer to him and have him a good look of your disheveled appearance. "You're twenty-five for fuck's sake! Would your dad kill you if you went against him for once?!"

Your pushes were harsh and so you wanted it to be painful as well. But god you wished these number of pushes that hurt him amounted to the pain you were also carrying.

"Would you die if you fought for us once, Jeong?!" Yunho tries grabbing your arms but you only broke away. "You gave them the right of the decision, but how about me, Jeong?! How about me?! Am I invisible or something?! Because for all I know, I'm still fucking here!" Falling to your demise as your knees hit the floor once again.

And Yunho just watches.

"...I'm still here, Yunho..." Your hands grab his index finger ever so desperately to hold on to him. It was like hanging to your life. Because everyone knows he was your life. He was someone you'd choose a hundred times over, return to earth for, and die a million times for.

Yet he can't do anything for you. He can't fight for you, he can't stay for you, he can't.

"I wish you'd fight for us like how I do, Yunho..." You sob helplessly, leaning your forehead into his hand that you held.

Yunho watches. Just watches. You had no idea how he felt, or what he was thinking. You don't even get to think about that. You were overwhelmed with your own, so how could you even think of him now?

"We were meant to end this way or that way, y/n," Yunho mumbles, head turning to his side to avoid looking at you.

"...So you took the way you'd ruin me best," You nod unknowingly, hands slowly slipping away from his finger. "Okay."

Yunho looks at you, and how your hands slowly dropped.

"Leave." It barely leaves your lips. You don't want him to, of course, but you were done.

You were done fighting for someone who can't do the same for you. You were done holding on to something you're only slipping away on.

With courage, you meet his eyes once again as you stretch your neck up in dejection. And for the first time when Yunho step inside your shared apartment, you saw emotion in his eyes.

That is, of empathy.

He looked at you as if you were such a pitiful thing, in denial of what he made you.

In ruins. Who was taking each of her broken parts and hugging it all in desperation to keep it and everything together.

He made you like that. And now was he thinking that this is the reason why he took the easy way out.

Because if you took much longer to stay, to find more reasons to love each other, and someday just find you or Yunho in this position of yours, in despair, in shambles, and probably much even worse, he'll take the easy way out. He always will.

And you didn't deserve that now, nor will you ever.

"Leave," So you glue all your broken parts and glare at the man you loved, you once ever so loved, stern in tone and harsh in glare. "And like I said, I'll even pack all of your things for you. So leave, Jeong."

You may or may not have, still, prayed for him to stay. For the last one.

But when he doesn't, and your met with his back scrambling to the front door and closing it, you can't help another surge of tears flow as your broken parts get much more broken than it was before.

So much for gluing it back together for a mere thirty seconds.

He left in thirty seconds.

permanent taglist: @sunlightwoo

networks: @kflixnet

[zombvic]

VROOM (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n and harry get invited to go to the silverstone formula one grand prix (2023)

face claim : no one exact

notes : im an absolute noob at writing fics so please excuse the quality lmao. im petrified of posting on here but ive been thinking about starting a blog for over a year. im open to feedback, opinions and any sort of questions/advice is welcome! i happen to waffle a lot so just skip those parts if uninterested. this is my first post so enjoy 😝 also pls request because i have the creativity of a koala so id appreciate some ideas :D

pairings : harry lewis x reader , lando norris x platonic!reader

"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?! Are you actually serious?" You asked your boyfriend in genuine shock, followed by a laugh from the man dressed in head to toe in Ferrari merch. The red and yellow colors clashed hilariously with the sleek, orange McLaren paddock pass hanging around his neck.

"What? I thought I'd support the winning team." He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. You and Harry got invited by the Mclaren F1 team to watch the Silverstone Grand Prix from the paddock. As a Formula 1 fan youself, you were excited to see the cars upclose. To watch the mechanics to the pitstops, engineers do their things (idk what they do lmao) and to watch Max Verstappen overlap the whole grid like seven times. Even since you were a little kid you were amazed by those cars driving freakishly quickly. Now, several years later you get to experience it right infront of your eyes.

"Look, there's Lando!" Harry pointed out, spotting your friend talking to a group of mechanics. You approached Lando, who broke into a wide grin as he saw you. "Hey! There are my favorite YouTubers!"

You beamed. "Lando! It's so good to see you. How's it going?"

"It's been wild but amazing," Lando replied, glancing at Harry. "And I see you've managed to get Harry in the right gear this time."

Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I had a little help with that."

Lando gave you two a playful nudge. "So, who are you rooting for today? Besides me, of course."

You laughed. "Well, McLaren, obviously. But I'm also excited to see how the Brits perform. It's going to be an interesting race."

"That's the spirit," Lando said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, I better get back to my team, but I'll see you guys later? Enjoy the race!"

You and Harry found a spot in the back of Landos garage, it had a view on the screens but also the pit-stop. The whole race went by fast. The moment the lights went out Lando tried his hardest with a deserved P2 at his home race.

Liked by mclaren, f1 & 1,002,485 others.

yourusename mom, i got invited to the silverstone grand prix.. still lowkey in disbelief like wtf.. me?? anyways, tysm mclaren 🩷 enjoy my lovely film camera dump raaaah.

View all 2,547 comments.

user harry looking fine as always😍

user y/n and lando finest friends

wroetoshaw whos the first fella hes fit

- yourusername he has a girlfriend..

user i can imagine y/n just walking around taking pictures of everything and everyone 😭😭😭

user i almost melted when they came on the screen

- user me too 😭 forgot i was watching f1 for a second

wroetoshaw i still think i shouldve worn my ferrari outfit #hater

- yourusername youd be sticking out like a sore thumb youre lucky i stopped you #loser #youalmostworepajamapants

user y/n looked so good there 😍

user i LIVE for y/n and landos friendship

faithlouisak i cant believe you chose him over me..

- yourusername im sorry bae.. next time im taking u

faithlouisak finest woman out there

calfreezy wtf fake friends.. theburntchip are you seeing what im seeing ???

- theburntchip bunch of fakies😔

holy what a yap fest lmfao please someone REQUEST something 😭 cause this is too plain.. !

[devilfruitwriter]

falls in love easily {Taz Skylar}

Summary: Life comes at you fast, and often in uncertain ways, at least that's what you find yourself thinking when it's almost five in the morning and you're waiting for the cast of the upcoming Live Action One Piece Netflix show in their makeup trailer, and you realise you might have finally found your people. (And the way you try not to think about how you might genuinely be falling for the actor who you've been joking about being in love with since day one.)

Need to Know: They/Them Reader. Makeup Artist!Reader. Fluff through vignettes. No use of Y/N.

A/N: 3424 words. Unedited and probably a mess but I love him your honor. Now idk if it's good, but I hope you enjoy it. There's mentions of drinking. Let me know what you think, or if you have any prompts for Taz or any of the rest of the cast! <3

Taglist is always open, please comment or message me to be added! xx

Taz has started bringing you coffee, and damn if you don't love him for it.

"Don't let it go to your head; they love everyone," Emily rolls her eyes but her expression is fond. You stick your tongue out at her, still cradling your steaming take away cup with both your hands, looking between them in the makeup trailer they share with you and Emily's makeup artist.

"Yeah but me the most," Taz sits a little higher in his chair, his smug little smile is levelled at his co-star, though you see his gaze flick to you and the grin you're trying to hide behind the rim of your cup, "that's the point of the coffee, isn't it?"

"You have a few other redeeming qualities," you chime in, struggling not to laugh at the whole situation, especially as Taz makes a show of practically preening at your decidedly backhanded praise.

"Told ya," he's outright beaming now, "loves me the most, as they should."

"As I should?" You hear the disbelief in your own voice rise as you lower your cup, crossing your free hand over your chest.

"Obviously," Taz, however, does not seem phased by your indignance, looking at you with wide, bright eyes, like it's the most simple thing in the world, "you're my makeup artist, if you loved one of them more I'd consider that a great betrayal of our bond."

Emily can no longer contain her laughter.

You take a moment to ponder and sip the coffee he'd brought you, mulling over his words.

"I've known Emily longer," you pointed out, though Taz shook his head, managing to keep his composure and keep up with the bit.

"And I've worked with other makeup artists in the past; what matters is the here and now," he says with an almost believable sincerity, "and here and now, I love you the most, and I buy you coffee, and I'm gonna be real sad if you don't say it back." Endeared by his antics, the words tumble from you -

"Of course I love you the mostest -"

"- the mostest! -" he echoes under his breath with a pleased kind of triumph.

"- the mostest? -" Emily, however, has her whole face scrunched up, muttering amid her laughter like she can't quite believe she'd heard you say that.

"Of course I love Taz the mostest -" you doubled down, now outright grinning, "not that it should have to be stated; this is a well established love affair we've got going on here, was that not clear?" Gesturing between yourself and Taz, who's once again looking particularly pleased with the bit, the two of you share an amused look before both turning to Emily in the makeup chair beside you both. She gives you both a thin, amused smile, her laughter having died down.

"Oh it's clear," she smirks at him, "considering that even Kiki won't swap trailers with me -" though there's no real malice behind it.

"You have not asked Kiki to swap with you," Taz rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "you love us."

"And we love you," you assured her, playing up the saccharine quality of your voice once more.

"But not as much as you love each other," she pointed out.

"Obviously," Taz nodded, right as you agreed;

"That goes without saying."

(Later, when you ask him how he takes his coffee, he cracks an eye open where he's relaxing as you're laying his wig for the day, slight smile on his lips, telling you that's not how this works.

Music fills the little trailer in the in-between moments, loud enough that Emily and her own makeup artist can't hear the specifics of your conversation. You give pause, waiting for the spirit gum to dry, echoing his words back to him as a question, amused at his apparent courteousness. He nods, now watching you, as if confused by your question.

"How am I meant to let you know I love you otherwise?" You snickered, playing off the earlier joke. It did the trick, however, as he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. Still, he tells you how he takes his coffee, and you, triumphant, turn to the counter for your next product.

"Or you could just say," he adds after a moment, and you can't help but freeze. You don't even need to be looking at him to hear him grinning - this moment is doing strange things to the affectionate feeling in your chest, but you do your best to ignore it. Turning back, his eyes are closed again, settled back in his seat, waiting as patient as ever.

"That's too easy," you hope he can tell you're smiling too.)

----

"I'm so sorry, love," Taz is leaning against the side of your trailer, cigarette in one hand, and blue, plastic lighter in the other, "my lighter's dead, you don't happen to have one?"

After being called in even earlier than usual to assist with Jeff's Buggy makeup for the shoot today, it takes you a moment to catch up. It takes you a moment, and a yawn, but you reach into one of the side pockets of your backpack.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," you mumble through your yawn.

"Fuckin' love you," Taz mutters gratefully, shoving his own, empty lighter into his back pocket, "I know it's a filthy habit but -"

"I don't judge," you shrug, finally handing over the lighter that had been buried in the bottom of the pocket. Instead of heading in, however, you joined him, leaning against the trailer, tipping your head back to look at the lilac sky as it began to turn gold.

The quiet spark, pop, sizzle of the cigarette isn't an unfamiliar sound given the industry you work in. Taz thanks you quietly as he hands back the lighter, and you give a tired smile in return; you had an energy drink and probably a coffee waiting in your trailer but you would rather take these few moments of peace where you could get them.

"I thought you vaped," you mused after a moment. Taz makes a noncommittal noise as he breathes out a lungful of smoke.

"Left it in the accommodation," he admitted. He offers the cigarette, but you shake your head, "probably smart, like its a bad habit, yeah, but also I don't exactly know where this came from, I found it in the bottom of my bag, it's..." he gives a thin, self deprecating smile, "questionable."

"Sounds like a you-problem, my guy," you tell him, shifting over to lean against his shoulder, closing your eyes for the moment. You hear him laugh and agree, and a comfortable silence stretches out between you.

"It definitely is," he agrees after a moment, "can I ask why you carry a lighter with you if you don't smoke? Not that I'm not grateful -"

"That's why."

"What?"

"In case someone needs a lighter."

"That's sweet, that's very lovely."

"I do try," you hum with a slight smile. After a moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, continuing to blow smoke into the wind, away from you.

"You doing alright, love?"

"Always," you sigh, leaning into him in the moment, "I'll be alright, I just need to get some caffeine into me."

"Coffee's waiting for you inside," he told you warmly, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah," you mumbled, before admitting, "I like hanging out with you though."

You can't bring yourself to open your eyes and gauge his reaction, but he doesn't let you go.

(He keeps borrowing your lighter. Sometimes it's those early mornings, sometimes it's on set, during the few scenes where Sanji's smoking; before anyone else he'll come to you. You start carrying your lighter in your pocket just in case.

"So you've just given up on having a lighter of your own?" You teased, lighting the herbal cigarette they were using for filming.

"Why would I need one? I've got you," he smirks back, and damn he's just as charming in character as he is out of it. "Thanks, love," he wraps you up in a one-armed hug, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before the cast and crew is called to stand by for the shot.

Taz is the kind of affectionate you could really see yourself getting used to, and he's definitely taken notice.)

----

Between the wig, the makeup, and covering up his tattoos, Taz's spends just over an hour in your makeup chair, depending on how much of Sanji will be seen on any given day.

"Scenes like today might be my favourite," You're working diligently away, already a half hour into your routine and mind on autopilot as you take Taz's hand to keep it still while you added product to your brush. You hadn't even realised you'd said that out loud until he responded.

"Scenes like today?" His voice is gentle but amused; you can hear him smiling but can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling flustered that you'd voiced that thought at all. "Come on, love, you can't just say that, what d' you mean by that?" And it takes you a moment of deliberation to decide if you want to answer honestly, applying concealer to his tattoos as you feel yourself grow flustered.

"I like all your scenes," you mutter dismissively, "I feel lucky that I get to see so much of the show being filmed." Which isn't a lie, you're on standby on set to touch up makeup throughout the days, and you love the production and what you've seen of the show thus far... but it's also not the whole truth, and you know Taz can tell.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and when you look up finally, you can see the way he's smiling, but he's thankfully not looking at you. For a moment, you're glad Emily's not filming until later in the day, her call time not for several hours, so it's just you and Taz, and his playlist to fill the silence. But you make the call to swallow your embarrassment and voice the compliment that had been idling in your mind.

"I like watching you cook on set the most," you say without a hint of hesitation, and he looks to you quickly, almost like he's surprised by your honesty, but you weren't finished, "I know you've really immersed yourself in the role and put in a lot of effort and training; it really shows, especially when you fight and when you cook." There's something in the way he's looking at you that starts to overwhelm you, and you have to break the moment, break eye contact, go back to covering his tattoos or your not sure what you might do. Even your tone shifts, a little flustered, a little awkward, a little jarring after how sure you'd just been, "I, you know, I appreciate you and stuff, but you knew that."

There was a warmth to the silence that followed. When you finally sat back to grab the colour correction pallet, you could see Taz still watching you with genuine affection in his gaze.

"You're very kind," he says softly.

"Nah, it's just true," you huffed an awkward laugh.

"Don't hit me with that 'nah, it's just true' shit," he snorted, shaking his head, "you're being very kind and I appreciate that," he told you with firm honesty, matching the tone you'd addressed him with just moments ago, "lemme cook you dinner some time, 'cos I have been practicing," he agrees with pride, "and I'd take any excuse to show off, 'specially to you."

"Thought we established that I already love you, you don't have to prove anything to me," you ducked your head as you loaded your brush with product, unable to keep the grin from your face.

"Yeah, but this love-bit is a two way street."

"Okay," you said after a pause, finally meeting his gaze once more, and your smile grows wider.

"Okay?" Matching your excited energy, Taz grins widely at you, and you nod.

"Yeah, dinner, eventually," you laughed, "whenever we both are up for it. I'd really like that."

Something is... different now. Something has changed. Taz can't help but mention, as you're securing his wig, that it's going to be hard for him to think of anything but your kind words during filming today. Sheepishly you apologise, but he waves you off quickly - nothing to apologise for, he assured you.

But something is different.

(The silly, little fantasies you've been having on occasion, or more accurately, have been trying to ignore on occasion, have only gotten worse.

And more domestic.

They leave you feeling that kind of giddy-sick and unprofessional, the kind of daydreams that remind you at two in the morning that you should be sleeping and really shouldn't have a crush on your coworker.

Except you can't stop picturing small moments, like a sunlit, mid-morning, music playing on your laptop, the two of you moving around each other to make breakfast together on your day off. Or sharing quiet conversations and laughter while making dinner and -

When you both finally have a night off, he mentions how he's invited some of the other cast members to join you both. You've never been so relieved and disappointed all at once.)

----

Lines and jokes get messy and blurry; late nights on set, Taz almost falling asleep in your makeup chair as you're removing his wig for the day, nights out that both he and Emily invite you to, and a burgeoning friendship with the rest of the cast, and quiet moments spent in the back of Ubers lamenting how early you all have to get up the next day.

Usually you're the first one to bail, considering you're usually getting calling in even earlier than the cast, but some of the more responsible ones, or the other members of crew who have been roped into these various shenanigans, will split the Uber bill with you. The others all seem to understand why you have to leave early, but still, they're sad to see you leave.

What you tell absolutely none of them is that your self restraint is wearing incredibly thin when it comes to Taz already, and you know you're so close to doing something you can't take back.

Because he gets somehow more tactile when you're all out together; his arm around you, kisses your temple, your cheek, elated to see you whenever you meet up again after any amount of time. The way he laughs, the way he just talks to you, making you feel like you're the most important person in the world in the moment he gives you his focus and attention, and your brain gets all giddy and foggy when he calls you 'my love'.

So you need to leave, before you do too much, or say too much... well, too much more.

("My love -" and there it is again, his voice above the music, cutting through the crowd where he's spotted you.

"Yes, my darling Taz," you greet him with a sunny smile and open arms as an invitation to join you. Beside you in the booth, Emily and Inaki are playing slaps, and somehow neither are doing well, but thankfully they're both enjoying themselves.

Taz slides seamlessly into the booth beside you, pressed up to your side. Immediately his focus is stolen by his castmates' various yells and shrieks and slaps, and he half drapes himself across you and the table in front of you to get closer to their game. You don't even really mind, simply enjoying the moment, his proximity, and trying to figure out how long before you should head home. These three have the day off tomorrow, but you've been called in to assist with the hair and makeup for Mihawk.

"You're thinking very hard," Taz muses, as if remembering on whom he was leaning. Giving him a nudge, you grin.

"Just got work tomorrow unfortunately -"

Emily pats you sympathetically on the shoulder, Inaki immediately shouts that she's cheating, his eyes bright and wide. You push Taz back so he's no longer half-leaning over you to instead offer your shoulder to Inaki; he gives a decisive pat and declares he and Emily even, while you lament that you should probably hit the hay.

Emily and Inaki put their game on hold to say goodbye, Emily hugging you tightly and telling you to message when you got back to your accommodation, before they returned their focus to each other, and trying to pick a new game. Taz slides from the booth, giving you room to get out, and walks with you to the door.

"Surely you're not leaving," you grinned, but he's already shaking his head, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you get out onto the street.

"Making sure you make it to your taxi, or Uber, or whatever, okay."

"My hero," you teased, but still pulled out your phone to order your ride back to the hotel. Taz is humming something to himself that you can't quite pick all the while, "should be here in three minutes," you say softly, turning your attention back to him for the moment. The sight of his affectionate, smiling face has something softening in your heart - "you don't need to stay out here, I'll be fine, the bouncer's -"

"I work hard to my top ranking with you," Taz tried to muster up as much seriousness as he could, but it only served to endear you further, "no way I'm letting something happen in these three minutes and you end up liking some fuckin' bouncer more than me."

What you want to say is 'that will never happen'.

What you actually do is kiss him.)

----

It's not nothing.

This thing between you both is something, but you're not quite sure what. Because at first neither of you talk about what happens on those nights out, or how it keeps happening, but it never feels strange when you see each other at work. Still you tease each other endlessly, and there's something about the way he tries not to laugh when you're doing some kind of nonsense bit while doing his makeup, and how you'd fallen asleep against each other when Inaki invited people over to hang out and watch movies together.

Somehow after the wrap party, you, the main cast, and a few other members of the crew all ended up back at your accommodation. Most had left in the wee hours of the morning, but Inaki's passed out on your sofa, and a few of the other makeup artists had decided to squeeze into your bed like sardines, while you and Taz haven't moved from the wicker armchair on your balcony for hours.

The sunrise paints him golden in this moment you never want to end.

He's halfway through telling a story that has you practically wheezing, and you want to tell him that you'll miss him, miss these moments, miss whatever it is the two of you are, that you might actually love him, but instead what comes out is -

"You bastard, you know you've ruined me for other actors," you're beaming from ear to ear, watching the sun rise, and you hear him practically giggling as he leans against you.

"My grand plan has succeeded then."

"Grand plan?"

"Grand plan," he confirmed with a slight nod, "since I met you and you pointed at me," he points out to the horizon for emphasis, "and you said I was going to do great things with this role, even though you'd barely even met me; I've been gone for you ever since," he admitted with a snort of laughter, as if embarrassed by the recollection.

"You what?" You shifted back, eyes wide with surprise, only to be met with Taz's confused smile, like obviously.

"You've been nothing but a support this entire time, how is this a surprise?" He chuckled; seeing how obviously flustered you were becoming, his smile softened to something endeared, "you make yourself very easy to love, you know that, right?"

So much is running through your head at once, a million things you'd like to say, questions you have, what-ifs you could dwell on, but you don't.

"Oh thank god," you breathe, wrapping your arms around him, "I love you too," you're beaming until you're kissing him, this moment golden and absolutely perfect.

----

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